A glutton for punishment
Actually, the title is a bit dramatic. Me? Dramatic? The drama is fine, maybe fitting, but the cliche is problematic. Whatever, it's just a blog post.
I'm writing this from lovely Arugam Bay. The last three days have meshed into one, but here I am after a lengthy journey, sitting on the second floor of a beachside bar, hooked into wifi, listening to some R&B tunes, and drinking a warm Fanta. Ah, could it get any better? (Probably.)
But first, the journey.
Monday was my last day in Uppeveli. (I'm actually certain I am spelling everything wrong here, forgive me.) I had initially planned to leave for Batticaloa that morning and from there for Arugam Bay. But once I learned the bus was at 5:45 a.m. that morning, my plans changed. Alberto and the sweet Sri Lankan couple suggested I leave with one of them either Monday afternoon or Tuesday morning. In the end, I opted for leaving Monday afternoon. Another day would be lovely there, Egenia treated me very well, and she had washed and ironed all my laundry, but...if I wanted to be in Arugam Bay (alive and well) for the USA vs. Algeria match, I'd need to get a jump start on a day and not waste time. The plan was I head out with the couple in the afternoon for Colombo. We'd get there very late at night, but the bus trek from Colombo to Arugam Bay is far more reliable than the one from Trinco to Batti, and then to A'Bay. I went out for a lovely morning swim, meeting up with the English couple again who came by to check on me and see if we'd all travel together. I told them it wasn't to be, but we exchanged info after a nice dip in the ocean.
Lunch was a veritable feast of spicy fish curry, rice, sambol, green beans, ugh, and I can't remember what else right now. Papaya and pineapple for dessert, and then I had a cup of tea.
We lost power again, and I used the time to pack up and settle my bills. It wasn't til about 5 p.m. that we all hit the road, a few hours later than initially planned. It was actually tough leaving Engenia, who wanted me to stay longer and gave me her info so I could call her before I left the country, and write her from wherever I went. I told her I'd send her photos! Anyway, we left in an SUV with a driver. I got put in the "death seat" as I call it, or the jump seat/front seat. There is a reason why I adopted that title for the front seat in Egypt, and it holds true in Sri Lanka as well. Picture winding, bumping, not so well-kempt (potholed, etc), narrow roads one in each direction. Now add goats, cows, elephants randomly wandering these roads. Then let's add some tuktuks, bicycles, motorcyclists, trucks (long and short-haul) and buses. We sped along at about 85 mph on this road, sometimes hitting skids of gravel, often on the wrong side of the road playing a death-wish game of chicken, coming to within feet of hitting cars head first, before squishing back into our lane within a row of cars (where there seemed to be no room before). And, of course, it wasn't just us. Lines of cars doing this on both sides at the same time, motorcyclists bobbing their heads forwards and back, side to side trying to eye the next time they can pass. Everyone jockeying for position. I had to laugh at a certain point, and relaxed. At least at that speed there was near certain death off-road...We nearly hit a man (did I mention people running across the roads?), who turned mid-way, froze, and then reversed direction. We almost slammed headlong into a mini-bus, both of us jerking at the last second, and maybe an inch between us. And of course, then it got dark. In all, the trip was about six hours long. The Sri Lankan woman in back got violently ill at a bathroom stop.
As we drove along we chatted quite a bit. There are some very interesting projects going on in Sri Lanka right now. And very little coverage. Most journalists are deported, if they are lucky. Others are shot on the spot or tortured, then deported. The couple worked with NGOs doing construction and other consulting work trying to rebuild their country post civil war and tsunami. Apparently Indian and Sri Lankan intelligence is so good that once you start asking questions in certain areas they will come find you and kick you out. One English woman had 12 hours to leave the country at one point, and found herself in a very harried situation. Even if you do get to ask questions, people are very scared and reluctant to be forthright about what they do know. It's a real pity.
We spoke about a lot of random topics, so I'll just post smatterings of what I remember here. Cars in Sri Lanka undergo something like a 500% government tax. So a 10 year old car sells for $28,000 USD. Most cars will almost always be about five to 10 years old, and an SUV will sell for at least $100,000 USD. Mangoes, papayas and pineapples are also excessively taxed so that you can often find them for cheaper (especially out of season) in a market back in the States (even California). And therefore, apples from Asia, and other imports end up being less expensive than such tropical local fruits. Asinine, huh?
On a separate note, apparently those wasps at Sigiriya were a big deal. In the last two months apparently 30 people, including many foreigners have been stung and had to go to the hospital. Two people were killed by them! Whew...and there I was in my bright yellow tee-shirt. Boy, I was lucky.
Along the way we stopped for a cup of tea, and then for dinner -- hoppers! Yum. So it's coconut milk with rice paste, cooked in a half coconut shell-shaped metal bowl. Mmmm...We had that, egg hoppers, and then some spices along with them and a Lions Lager. I actually really like Sri Lankan beer!
When we finally arrived to Colombo it was about 11:30 p.m. I had to leave (via taxi) for the bus station at 4:15 a.m...or in a few hours. The couple put me up in their guestroom. I was very thankful. I blasted the A/C and got in a few hours (didn't really get to bed til about 12:30/1 a.m.) I didn't want to bother the couple in the morning, but they told me to wake them so they could walk me out. And so, at 4:10 a.m., I woke them up and the man, I believe it's Sujeewa (yes, I know it's shameful, but I'm not so great with names) walked me out. We exchanged contact info.
The taxi was very overpriced, but the only one willing to pick me up at that hour. The Sri Lankan lady gave me a call while I was in the taxi, giving me tips on where to go, what bus to get. The taxi driver, meanwhile, had his own ideas. He ends up taking me to the bus station and I don't recognize a thing there. We ask police officers and random people which bus to Pottuvil, Ampara or Monaragla. None know for sure. Each telling us this way then that. It's 4:30 a.m., and I am getting nervous. 15 minutes til departure.
Then I learn we're at the private bus station, not the CTB, government bus station. So off we go. There we have the same game, and it's 4:40 a.m. now, and there's a distinct possibility I'll miss my bus and have to hang around for another hour in the dark, with random people walking about. The taxi driver seems to relish my confusion, and he's driving this way and that. He asks a police officer who says there is a bus at 4:45 a.m., and it's about to leave. (Duh!) Meanwhile, we still don't know where to go. I finally decide to get out of the taxi. I get out, grab my shit, and walk around and inquire myself. I find the proper bus, and then turn around to try and pay the taxi driver, who has driven the car up and around, and is now walking over. I give him the amount that was left on the meter when I got out, he tells me to wait while he turns on the car. I need to catch my bus. He shows me the meter, now higher because he's driven it around so. I kinda lose it. I explain to him that he drove the car all around, and that the amount I'm giving him is what was on the meter once I got out. "All the help I give..." he starts to say. And I tell him that he almost made me miss my bus. I tell him I can pay him the eight rupees change I have. "Never mind..." he says, all pissed off. Whatever, I'm pissed off too. I grab my bag and head to the bus. There I have a back and forth with the ticket checker about whether it's the right bus. In the end he laughs, and I'm sure not understanding me, gives me a geographic rundown of everywhere I want to go. I'm still not certain if the bus goes there, but, well, it leave at 5 a.m., and the other bus that might work leaves at 6 a.m. I get on the bus.
It's a cramped, no air/con, rotten fruit-smelling, rickety old thing that travels with its doors open and windows if you like (I leave mine open). It's so cramped that I can't even lean against the side (little metal guard bar there that comes up to most peoples neck area but up to my shoulder). The ride is about 10 hours, with people getting on and off at every 15-30 minute intervals. I'm not sure if there are bathroom breaks or not, or food breaks. I decide to eat one of my last two packets of beef jerky. The ride in the morning is actually quite nice, as it is still quite dark with light just breaking and the rain clouds drifting away. The smell of rain is still in the air, and the breeze is cool and fresh. That changes within the hour, and soon it is hot, and dirty, and nasty. About eight hours into the journey I realized I have wet wipes, and I use one to wipe my face, which feels like grime. It comes away black. Mmmmm...
It turns out that every three hours or so we have a stop. I never know when we will stop or how long. I seize each moment, dashing to the outhouse and then grabbing a small baked snack of some sort. The first time I pointed to what everyone else seemed to be eating. Damn, 35 rupees, and very tasty, a puffy breaded thing with spicy vegetables inside it. Thank the Lord for hand sanitizer. My back was killing me, but of course it would.
Hour after hour, more people got on the bus, and at certain points we were crammed to standing room only. Each time I got back on the bus, I was surprised I still had my seat, but I guess there's a certain long-haul respect for those who have been on since 5 a.m. I don't think anyone else was. Sometimes women sat next to me, often men who uncomfortably rubbed elbows or legs (not necessarily on purpose, but it annoyed me nevertheless). The window blew welcome air, but flapped my hair all around. And I was covered by at least 100 layers of sweat by the end of it. At one stop at about noon I took out one of my mangoes (I bought two along the side of the road with the Sri Lankan couple Monday evening - a special price, 35 rupees each!). Using my useful pocket knife, I cut myself sections of the mango as people on the bus watched me with fascination. The mnago was good, but messy, as you can imagine. Cleanup (if you can call it that) was not fun. I continued onward for the last few hours somewhat sticky as well...
Sidenote: Four monkeys are congregating on a roof acrosst eh way, and now they're jumping from rooftop to rooftop. Looks like fun.
Along the journey we passed tons of schools, with children in their all-white uniforms. Boys sometimes with blue pants and white tops. Girls wearing white pleated skirts, white blouses with ties on that were different colors, depending what year they were in. Red, blue, striped colors. They played in yards, walked along the side of the road with backpacks, home for lunch. A slew got on the bus with us too.
With only 10 km or so left of my journey we had to pull over (schoolgirls included) for a checkpoint. A group of people got off the bus, and one said I should go too (I still don't know if that's the case). We all got off, people showed ID, had their stuff searched. I decided I didn't want/need to get searched. So I turned back around and went back to the bus. The ticket man seemed OK with that, but said I needed to pay for the last leg of the journey. 60 rupees. Okay. The entire trip, including that last leg, cost me about 325 rupees. I asked a guy later why those people were checked, and not all the schoolgirls or others on the bus still. Apparently, those people are residents of the area, so they don't need to be checked. Hmm...I pleaded tourist ignorance.
At about 3 p.m. we finally arrived in Arugam Bay. I got off the bus and lugged my bags for the last 100 meters or so to my guesthouse/restaurant "Gecko." It's run by an English woman Liz and her Sri Lankan husband Ramesh. They show me to my room, and I am exhausted. I take a quick shower, then walk over for some food in their restaurant. The food is very pricy (as is the room, and they go down for 3500 rupees to 2000 for me), but well the food is quite homey and nice. I get a burger there, and it is the best burger I have had since October. I get some papaya juice too, and then go for a walk to get my bearings of the place. I stop by Siam House, a bar on the beach and chat with Simon about the football game. The bar opens officially at 6 p.m., but I grab a draft of Lions, then decide to head to my room for a short nap before the matches.
At 5:30 p.m. I lie down...and at 9:30 p.m. I get back up. (My alarm did go off at 7:20 p.m., but I turned it off.) I was exhausted. I woke up all grimey feeling again. Washed up a bit, and then tried to go back to bed again at about 11:30 p.m. At 3 a.m. I was still tossing and turning, dogs howling out on the beach. But I slept a few more hours and then was up and at 'em at 8:30 a.m. Fresh homemade muesli and milk for breakfast, with pineapple, mango and papaya, and then I decided to walk down the beach to the surf point area, where the second-to-last day of an Australian surfing competition was taking place. Along the way I run into Alfonso! It's a happy reunion, and we hug. He turns around to walk with me back to the competition. They are webcasting it live, and apparently some dude in his Alaskan hot tub is also watching. We catch three heats. An Aussie versus another Aussie, an Aussie versus a Frenchman, and an Aussie versus a Hawaiian. The Aussies win em all. I am incredibly thristy, and a tiny bottle of water costs 100 rupees! I get one, but decide not to spend another dime there. The surfing competition is over at about 10:30 a.m., and Alfonso and I decide to walk about a bit. He has found a cheap as ever room for 800 rupees with air con and a fan. Leave it to Alfonso, who barely speaks English, but is an awesome bargainer. He shows me his place, and they show me another room there too. The second room has no air con and is dark and dank, with the bathroom outside. Alfonso says I can have his room if I want, and he'll move out. I thank him, but can't do that to him. We grab a beer and a mango juice and chat a bit about plans. It's great that Alfonso is here because traveling to Yala National Park will be a lot easier and cheaper. He had come by way of Batticaloa, my initial plan, to Arugam Bay. He had a three hour ride to Habarana first, then four hours to Batticaloa, then about five hours between Batti and Arugam Bay...on four different buses. He spent the night in Batti too.
Anyway, after talking "business," as Alfonso calls it, we decide to go for a swim. The water here is refreshing, but a bit chillier than the water in Uppevali. The sun is strong, and I'm running out of sunblock. I can feel my skin crisping. After a bit we decide to split up for the afternoon and meet back up at Siam House for the football game at 7 p.m. I go back to my place, shower, stare at my (thankfully light) burn spots, and then grab lunch. I try the coconut ginger homemade ice cream for dessert. Yum. Then I walk over to Siam House to use their wifi. It's cooling down a bit now, which is nice. I may take a (short!) nap this afternoon after all, before heading back out for the matches, we'll see. My fingers are tired...so sorry for glossing over the last bit.
Arugam Bay is a sleepy surf town with quite inflated prices thanks to all the mama/daddy-rich gap-year NGO kids that came into town post 2004 tsunami. Or so I've been told. It is damn expensive, but I am trying to be chill about it. No sense in being so cheap that you ruin your own vacation...But, for example, a surfboard rental is 700 to 900 rupees. I spoke with some people who said they could do 500 rupees. Finally, I found one guy that will do it for 300 rupees (he told me not to tell anyone...but this doesn't quite count, does it?). I'll perhaps try that tomorrow, if the water looks calm enough and I feel up for it. I'm going for a beginner long board, heavy, but sturdy like a boat! I also have that cut on my toe to contend with, so we'll see how it goes. I was in the water today though, and wishing I had a board with me...it gets deep quite quickly and there are strong rip tides.
Okay, I'm done for the night. Gonna give my fingers a rest.
IJW
I'm writing this from lovely Arugam Bay. The last three days have meshed into one, but here I am after a lengthy journey, sitting on the second floor of a beachside bar, hooked into wifi, listening to some R&B tunes, and drinking a warm Fanta. Ah, could it get any better? (Probably.)
But first, the journey.
Monday was my last day in Uppeveli. (I'm actually certain I am spelling everything wrong here, forgive me.) I had initially planned to leave for Batticaloa that morning and from there for Arugam Bay. But once I learned the bus was at 5:45 a.m. that morning, my plans changed. Alberto and the sweet Sri Lankan couple suggested I leave with one of them either Monday afternoon or Tuesday morning. In the end, I opted for leaving Monday afternoon. Another day would be lovely there, Egenia treated me very well, and she had washed and ironed all my laundry, but...if I wanted to be in Arugam Bay (alive and well) for the USA vs. Algeria match, I'd need to get a jump start on a day and not waste time. The plan was I head out with the couple in the afternoon for Colombo. We'd get there very late at night, but the bus trek from Colombo to Arugam Bay is far more reliable than the one from Trinco to Batti, and then to A'Bay. I went out for a lovely morning swim, meeting up with the English couple again who came by to check on me and see if we'd all travel together. I told them it wasn't to be, but we exchanged info after a nice dip in the ocean.
Lunch was a veritable feast of spicy fish curry, rice, sambol, green beans, ugh, and I can't remember what else right now. Papaya and pineapple for dessert, and then I had a cup of tea.
We lost power again, and I used the time to pack up and settle my bills. It wasn't til about 5 p.m. that we all hit the road, a few hours later than initially planned. It was actually tough leaving Engenia, who wanted me to stay longer and gave me her info so I could call her before I left the country, and write her from wherever I went. I told her I'd send her photos! Anyway, we left in an SUV with a driver. I got put in the "death seat" as I call it, or the jump seat/front seat. There is a reason why I adopted that title for the front seat in Egypt, and it holds true in Sri Lanka as well. Picture winding, bumping, not so well-kempt (potholed, etc), narrow roads one in each direction. Now add goats, cows, elephants randomly wandering these roads. Then let's add some tuktuks, bicycles, motorcyclists, trucks (long and short-haul) and buses. We sped along at about 85 mph on this road, sometimes hitting skids of gravel, often on the wrong side of the road playing a death-wish game of chicken, coming to within feet of hitting cars head first, before squishing back into our lane within a row of cars (where there seemed to be no room before). And, of course, it wasn't just us. Lines of cars doing this on both sides at the same time, motorcyclists bobbing their heads forwards and back, side to side trying to eye the next time they can pass. Everyone jockeying for position. I had to laugh at a certain point, and relaxed. At least at that speed there was near certain death off-road...We nearly hit a man (did I mention people running across the roads?), who turned mid-way, froze, and then reversed direction. We almost slammed headlong into a mini-bus, both of us jerking at the last second, and maybe an inch between us. And of course, then it got dark. In all, the trip was about six hours long. The Sri Lankan woman in back got violently ill at a bathroom stop.
As we drove along we chatted quite a bit. There are some very interesting projects going on in Sri Lanka right now. And very little coverage. Most journalists are deported, if they are lucky. Others are shot on the spot or tortured, then deported. The couple worked with NGOs doing construction and other consulting work trying to rebuild their country post civil war and tsunami. Apparently Indian and Sri Lankan intelligence is so good that once you start asking questions in certain areas they will come find you and kick you out. One English woman had 12 hours to leave the country at one point, and found herself in a very harried situation. Even if you do get to ask questions, people are very scared and reluctant to be forthright about what they do know. It's a real pity.
We spoke about a lot of random topics, so I'll just post smatterings of what I remember here. Cars in Sri Lanka undergo something like a 500% government tax. So a 10 year old car sells for $28,000 USD. Most cars will almost always be about five to 10 years old, and an SUV will sell for at least $100,000 USD. Mangoes, papayas and pineapples are also excessively taxed so that you can often find them for cheaper (especially out of season) in a market back in the States (even California). And therefore, apples from Asia, and other imports end up being less expensive than such tropical local fruits. Asinine, huh?
On a separate note, apparently those wasps at Sigiriya were a big deal. In the last two months apparently 30 people, including many foreigners have been stung and had to go to the hospital. Two people were killed by them! Whew...and there I was in my bright yellow tee-shirt. Boy, I was lucky.
Along the way we stopped for a cup of tea, and then for dinner -- hoppers! Yum. So it's coconut milk with rice paste, cooked in a half coconut shell-shaped metal bowl. Mmmm...We had that, egg hoppers, and then some spices along with them and a Lions Lager. I actually really like Sri Lankan beer!
When we finally arrived to Colombo it was about 11:30 p.m. I had to leave (via taxi) for the bus station at 4:15 a.m...or in a few hours. The couple put me up in their guestroom. I was very thankful. I blasted the A/C and got in a few hours (didn't really get to bed til about 12:30/1 a.m.) I didn't want to bother the couple in the morning, but they told me to wake them so they could walk me out. And so, at 4:10 a.m., I woke them up and the man, I believe it's Sujeewa (yes, I know it's shameful, but I'm not so great with names) walked me out. We exchanged contact info.
The taxi was very overpriced, but the only one willing to pick me up at that hour. The Sri Lankan lady gave me a call while I was in the taxi, giving me tips on where to go, what bus to get. The taxi driver, meanwhile, had his own ideas. He ends up taking me to the bus station and I don't recognize a thing there. We ask police officers and random people which bus to Pottuvil, Ampara or Monaragla. None know for sure. Each telling us this way then that. It's 4:30 a.m., and I am getting nervous. 15 minutes til departure.
Then I learn we're at the private bus station, not the CTB, government bus station. So off we go. There we have the same game, and it's 4:40 a.m. now, and there's a distinct possibility I'll miss my bus and have to hang around for another hour in the dark, with random people walking about. The taxi driver seems to relish my confusion, and he's driving this way and that. He asks a police officer who says there is a bus at 4:45 a.m., and it's about to leave. (Duh!) Meanwhile, we still don't know where to go. I finally decide to get out of the taxi. I get out, grab my shit, and walk around and inquire myself. I find the proper bus, and then turn around to try and pay the taxi driver, who has driven the car up and around, and is now walking over. I give him the amount that was left on the meter when I got out, he tells me to wait while he turns on the car. I need to catch my bus. He shows me the meter, now higher because he's driven it around so. I kinda lose it. I explain to him that he drove the car all around, and that the amount I'm giving him is what was on the meter once I got out. "All the help I give..." he starts to say. And I tell him that he almost made me miss my bus. I tell him I can pay him the eight rupees change I have. "Never mind..." he says, all pissed off. Whatever, I'm pissed off too. I grab my bag and head to the bus. There I have a back and forth with the ticket checker about whether it's the right bus. In the end he laughs, and I'm sure not understanding me, gives me a geographic rundown of everywhere I want to go. I'm still not certain if the bus goes there, but, well, it leave at 5 a.m., and the other bus that might work leaves at 6 a.m. I get on the bus.
It's a cramped, no air/con, rotten fruit-smelling, rickety old thing that travels with its doors open and windows if you like (I leave mine open). It's so cramped that I can't even lean against the side (little metal guard bar there that comes up to most peoples neck area but up to my shoulder). The ride is about 10 hours, with people getting on and off at every 15-30 minute intervals. I'm not sure if there are bathroom breaks or not, or food breaks. I decide to eat one of my last two packets of beef jerky. The ride in the morning is actually quite nice, as it is still quite dark with light just breaking and the rain clouds drifting away. The smell of rain is still in the air, and the breeze is cool and fresh. That changes within the hour, and soon it is hot, and dirty, and nasty. About eight hours into the journey I realized I have wet wipes, and I use one to wipe my face, which feels like grime. It comes away black. Mmmmm...
It turns out that every three hours or so we have a stop. I never know when we will stop or how long. I seize each moment, dashing to the outhouse and then grabbing a small baked snack of some sort. The first time I pointed to what everyone else seemed to be eating. Damn, 35 rupees, and very tasty, a puffy breaded thing with spicy vegetables inside it. Thank the Lord for hand sanitizer. My back was killing me, but of course it would.
Hour after hour, more people got on the bus, and at certain points we were crammed to standing room only. Each time I got back on the bus, I was surprised I still had my seat, but I guess there's a certain long-haul respect for those who have been on since 5 a.m. I don't think anyone else was. Sometimes women sat next to me, often men who uncomfortably rubbed elbows or legs (not necessarily on purpose, but it annoyed me nevertheless). The window blew welcome air, but flapped my hair all around. And I was covered by at least 100 layers of sweat by the end of it. At one stop at about noon I took out one of my mangoes (I bought two along the side of the road with the Sri Lankan couple Monday evening - a special price, 35 rupees each!). Using my useful pocket knife, I cut myself sections of the mango as people on the bus watched me with fascination. The mnago was good, but messy, as you can imagine. Cleanup (if you can call it that) was not fun. I continued onward for the last few hours somewhat sticky as well...
Sidenote: Four monkeys are congregating on a roof acrosst eh way, and now they're jumping from rooftop to rooftop. Looks like fun.
Along the journey we passed tons of schools, with children in their all-white uniforms. Boys sometimes with blue pants and white tops. Girls wearing white pleated skirts, white blouses with ties on that were different colors, depending what year they were in. Red, blue, striped colors. They played in yards, walked along the side of the road with backpacks, home for lunch. A slew got on the bus with us too.
With only 10 km or so left of my journey we had to pull over (schoolgirls included) for a checkpoint. A group of people got off the bus, and one said I should go too (I still don't know if that's the case). We all got off, people showed ID, had their stuff searched. I decided I didn't want/need to get searched. So I turned back around and went back to the bus. The ticket man seemed OK with that, but said I needed to pay for the last leg of the journey. 60 rupees. Okay. The entire trip, including that last leg, cost me about 325 rupees. I asked a guy later why those people were checked, and not all the schoolgirls or others on the bus still. Apparently, those people are residents of the area, so they don't need to be checked. Hmm...I pleaded tourist ignorance.
At about 3 p.m. we finally arrived in Arugam Bay. I got off the bus and lugged my bags for the last 100 meters or so to my guesthouse/restaurant "Gecko." It's run by an English woman Liz and her Sri Lankan husband Ramesh. They show me to my room, and I am exhausted. I take a quick shower, then walk over for some food in their restaurant. The food is very pricy (as is the room, and they go down for 3500 rupees to 2000 for me), but well the food is quite homey and nice. I get a burger there, and it is the best burger I have had since October. I get some papaya juice too, and then go for a walk to get my bearings of the place. I stop by Siam House, a bar on the beach and chat with Simon about the football game. The bar opens officially at 6 p.m., but I grab a draft of Lions, then decide to head to my room for a short nap before the matches.
At 5:30 p.m. I lie down...and at 9:30 p.m. I get back up. (My alarm did go off at 7:20 p.m., but I turned it off.) I was exhausted. I woke up all grimey feeling again. Washed up a bit, and then tried to go back to bed again at about 11:30 p.m. At 3 a.m. I was still tossing and turning, dogs howling out on the beach. But I slept a few more hours and then was up and at 'em at 8:30 a.m. Fresh homemade muesli and milk for breakfast, with pineapple, mango and papaya, and then I decided to walk down the beach to the surf point area, where the second-to-last day of an Australian surfing competition was taking place. Along the way I run into Alfonso! It's a happy reunion, and we hug. He turns around to walk with me back to the competition. They are webcasting it live, and apparently some dude in his Alaskan hot tub is also watching. We catch three heats. An Aussie versus another Aussie, an Aussie versus a Frenchman, and an Aussie versus a Hawaiian. The Aussies win em all. I am incredibly thristy, and a tiny bottle of water costs 100 rupees! I get one, but decide not to spend another dime there. The surfing competition is over at about 10:30 a.m., and Alfonso and I decide to walk about a bit. He has found a cheap as ever room for 800 rupees with air con and a fan. Leave it to Alfonso, who barely speaks English, but is an awesome bargainer. He shows me his place, and they show me another room there too. The second room has no air con and is dark and dank, with the bathroom outside. Alfonso says I can have his room if I want, and he'll move out. I thank him, but can't do that to him. We grab a beer and a mango juice and chat a bit about plans. It's great that Alfonso is here because traveling to Yala National Park will be a lot easier and cheaper. He had come by way of Batticaloa, my initial plan, to Arugam Bay. He had a three hour ride to Habarana first, then four hours to Batticaloa, then about five hours between Batti and Arugam Bay...on four different buses. He spent the night in Batti too.
Anyway, after talking "business," as Alfonso calls it, we decide to go for a swim. The water here is refreshing, but a bit chillier than the water in Uppevali. The sun is strong, and I'm running out of sunblock. I can feel my skin crisping. After a bit we decide to split up for the afternoon and meet back up at Siam House for the football game at 7 p.m. I go back to my place, shower, stare at my (thankfully light) burn spots, and then grab lunch. I try the coconut ginger homemade ice cream for dessert. Yum. Then I walk over to Siam House to use their wifi. It's cooling down a bit now, which is nice. I may take a (short!) nap this afternoon after all, before heading back out for the matches, we'll see. My fingers are tired...so sorry for glossing over the last bit.
Arugam Bay is a sleepy surf town with quite inflated prices thanks to all the mama/daddy-rich gap-year NGO kids that came into town post 2004 tsunami. Or so I've been told. It is damn expensive, but I am trying to be chill about it. No sense in being so cheap that you ruin your own vacation...But, for example, a surfboard rental is 700 to 900 rupees. I spoke with some people who said they could do 500 rupees. Finally, I found one guy that will do it for 300 rupees (he told me not to tell anyone...but this doesn't quite count, does it?). I'll perhaps try that tomorrow, if the water looks calm enough and I feel up for it. I'm going for a beginner long board, heavy, but sturdy like a boat! I also have that cut on my toe to contend with, so we'll see how it goes. I was in the water today though, and wishing I had a board with me...it gets deep quite quickly and there are strong rip tides.
Okay, I'm done for the night. Gonna give my fingers a rest.
IJW
posted by IJW at 4:48 PM
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