GALLE - SRI LANKA

3rd - 5th Dec 2011

Part of the Fort wall at Galle.

There are basically three types of bus in Sri Lanka; Government buses, Private buses and Tour buses. The first two you get from the bus stations. The third only work, and not many of them, for tour companies. I was therefore compelled to get one of the first two. Government buses are near wrecks, uninsured and belch black smoke. They are coloured red. They don't care much whether they get you to your destination on time, or at all for that matter. Private buses ( in either small 'air-con' or larger 'open the windows' configuration ) are also in less than pristine condition and are in competition with each other, therefore they take all sorts of risks to get you to your destination quickly, or die trying. Both varieties are remarkably cheap. Some of the roads in Sri Lanks are now quite good ( a new motorway between Colombo and Galle has just been opened, but not for buses ); many are not. They are all populated by packs of dogs and herds of cows as well as every sort of vehicle imaginable. Driving is on the left or, more normally, in the middle of the road.

I chose one of the smaller 'air-con' buses for the 4 hour journey to Galle ( about 180 kms I think ) along a notoriously busy two lane road through many interlinking towns en-route. It started off promisingly at the Fort bus depot in central Colombo. The 'conductor' was standing outside the bus shouting what sounded like "wallywallywallywally!" to drum up customers. When all the seats were taken we set off. 250 rupees ( $2 ) for the journey; can't complain.
The bus ( left ) had a sound system ( wailing ethnic music ) and, as you can see, a kitchen clock nailed to the ceiling. My seat was reasonably comfortable, and there was even room for my bag on a space in front of me. So far so good. The slight problem was, this being a private 'money making' bus, it stopped at every possible place en-route with the conductor leaning out of the door shouting his "wallywallywally etc." to get in more pax. Actually it didn't stop it just slowed down and people leapt on or, occasionally, off. It soon began to resemble that over-packed train. It was another sardine can with people sitting and standing wherever they could. I kept my seat but lost contact with my bag and it became leg-crampingly uncomfortable. I never saw how the conductor chappie managed to collect any fares, but he obviously did. Sitting squashed behind the driver I had a reasonable view of the road in front and perhaps wished that I hadn't. The technique of driving these buses is quite simple. You overtake without hesitation any vehicle going slower than you at any point or road condition and anything coming towards you has to brake or take avoiding action. It is the ultimate game of 'chicken'.  Cows and dogs in the road provided the added unforeseen and unpredictable 'joker'  hazard. It got the adrenaline going.
We passed through several towns, I think, because one built up area led into another with little chance of seeing a sign. The road runs down the coast and a couple of places looked like they might attract tourists. An interesting feature of Sri Lankan towns and villages is that, with the notable exceptions of Colombo, Galle, Kandy and Trincomalee, the remaining 99% all have names ending in the letter 'a'. Isn't that fascinating?
We made it to Galle unscathed! It is possibly because of the buses that there are so many temples of whatever religion in this country. People here do a lot of praying.


Galle ( pronounced Gawl ) is the fourth largest city in Sri Lanka famous for it's port ( the most important until Colombo took over ) and it's fort. It was originated by the Portugese in the 16th century, then enlarged by the Dutch in the 17th century before being taken over by the British in 1796. The large Fort contains attractive and picturesque streets, small hotels and shops and is popular with tourists. The old bell tower ( right ) was erected by the British in 1901.






The Dutch East India Company coat of arms ( left ). This example was in the Maritime Museum. It hung over one of the Fort gates.........












.......until the Brits stuck their's up in 1796 ( right ).













The walls of the Fort proved remarkably effective against the tsunami in 2004. Most of the area inside this old quarter was unscathed, whereas big damage and scores of deaths occurred in the newer part of the town, especially around the busy bus station area. Just goes to show that the very old constructions are often the best ( vis-a-vis floods in the UK ).

The sea around the walls is remarkably clean, clear and blue with many little beach areas and lots of bathers.



One of the maze of narrow streets inside the Fort ( right ). Quaint little tea shops, antique shops and restaurants abound. Strangely there are no bars or alcohol served in the restaurants! This is to do with some Government licensing restriction or possibly it is just too expensive for the small places to obtain one. Nothing to do with the local Muslim community I was assured. I never did discover the real reason. Fortunately some places ( including the hotel I stayed at ) had an 'arrangement' with the police and sold drink 'under the counter', so to speak. Thank goodness for that.


A view of the inside of the charming little hotel at which I stayed. It was inexpensive, it had free wifi and computers for use, and the rooms were clean with pleasant balconies overlooking the street.











Outside the Fort the town was just like most others; 'bustling', hot and dusty with plenty of hawkers and markets but with not a lot of great interest other than, to me, the Galle Cricket Stadium ( right ) which has hosted international and Test matches. It was not in bad condition at all and has the walls of the Fort as a backdrop. Sorry; it's difficult to get decent pics of cricket grounds. They are too big for my little camera!



While I was at the travel agent in Colombo organising my Indian visa ( which they did, at a price, and which I could probably have done myself quite easily ) I made the mistake, for the first time, of booking a hotel through the travel agent at the beach areas to the south. I wanted to stay at Unawatuna, a beach which had been recommended. The agent said that all the decent hotels there were fully booked ( in retrospect I realised that the hotel which gave them a commission was fully booked ). They suggested instead that I go to a 'resort' hotel at Mirissa, about 30 miles further south. Stupidly I agreed ( big commission for the agent I suspect ).

The bus I took was of the larger 'windows open for ventilation' variety ( left ). Actually it was much less crowded and more comfortable than the smaller air-con model, if driven in marvellously kamikaze and adrenaline pumping style. It gives one a delightful 'frisson' of danger and a wonderful sense of achievement to actually arrive at your destination in one of these.







The 'boutique hotel' I had been booked into was called the Mandara Resort ( right ). It was bloody expensive! After celebrating my arrival at the Mirissa bus stop I discovered that I then needed a three-wheeler to get me there. It was over a mile out of the village down a potholed dusty track. It had comfortable enough rooms, but no international TV and a dangerous split level floor ( over which I tripped and nearly killed myself ). It had a swimming pool and, indeed, free wifi but only in the ouside 'lobby' area with no useable seating. It had a dull looking bar and an expensive restaurant. It had a beach of clean sand. But that was it. Service, as always, was good but the hotel was surrounded by a tall wire fence which gave you the impression of being in a prison. I saw only 3 other guests, one of whom, an elderly English lady, I found making a vitriolic complaint about something or other to the poor startled looking manager. I suspect she had gone stir-crazy. After dark there was no ( very limited ) lighting to be able to do anything ( that needed lighting ) outdoors and the midges and mosquitoes were ravenous. Apart from that there was no transport easily available and bugger-all other places to go. Trapped. One lives and learns.


The beach area ( left ). There was actually a local walking on it at the time I took this. I saw nobody else and there was no form of activity ( windsurfing, kite-surfing, boats etc ) available. In short, I found it very boring. It may, however, suit those who want a totally undisturbed get away from it all escape from the world.







The next day I escaped on a three-wheeler. I had intended to go by bus up to Unawatuna but found the three-wheeler driver amusing company, and it wasn't expensive, so decided to go the whole distance in his 'tuk-tuk'. The driver, Indee, also runs a small hotel and surfing school a short distance away. He showed it to me and it looked a lot more fun, and much better value, than the Mandara Open Prison. It was an amusing and surprisingly safely driven trip.

Unawatuna proved to be everything I was told it to be. To get to the sea-side involves a mile long drive down a track, but on either side are pretty little shops and cafes. It has a spectacularly beautiful beach ( right ) and a startlingly clear and turquoise coloured sea with fine clean golden sand. It was not crowded, but had quite a few tourists and locals swimming, lounging on deck-chairs or just wandering about plus some jet-ski activity on the water. There is good snorkelling ( I was told ) on a reef and scuba diving on wrecks. There are many restaurants and hotels, some tiny, some larger. Of course there were many places of varying price and comfort which had rooms available. I spent the night at a lovely hotel called the Thaproban where I met an amusing young couple on holiday from Gloucestershire. All in all, this place I thoroughly recommend. On ( maybe ) the down side, it was badly hit by the tsunami. Indeed it was wiped out, and many people died because they were washed into the forest which lies directly behind the buildings and from which there is no easy escape. They were advised to rebuild a sensible distance behind the beach, but greed and commercial advantage prevailed and they didn't. They have rebuilt exactly where they were before, about 10 yards away from the sea. So, in the ( hopefully ) unlikely event of another tidal wave striking, exactly the same destruction will occur. There are, however, good tsunami warning systems in place now to give people plenty of time to evacuate.
Apart from that the message is, "don't trust travel agents, necessarily, to give you the best advice". Like banks and just about every other commercial organisation, they are primarily concerned with making money out of you! Much better deals can often be had by just turning up and doing it, on the spot, by yourself. At least you see what you are getting and can frequently negotiate a substantial discount just by asking the price, looking horrified and starting to walk away!
Back to Colombo by bus ( I hope ), and then off to explore the more 'historic' sites in the middle of the country. I have booked the redoubtable Jim and his shiny car for this venture. There are limits to my enjoyment of dodgy transport and I don't do praying!
Hasta la vista............