The Great Lankan Road-Trip, Part 1

I'm on a mission to explore the boutique hotels of Sri Lanka.

One of the reasons many of us get cabin-fever in Colombo is the fact that we often just stay put in town, complaining that there's nothing to do, instead of getting out and hitting the road. Mind you, this apathy is possibly due to the fact that when you hit the road in Sri Lanka you have a 50/50 chance of hitting someone else hitting the road or being hit by someone else hitting the road so hitting the road in Sri Lanka often does mean hitting and / or being hit by other motorists, pedestrians, cattle, stray dogs and the occasional itinerant elephant, which can be a tad off-putting...

Nevertheless, for those of us foolhardy or kamikaze enough to brave Sri Lankan traffic, it is truly rewarding to get off one's bum and go on the Great Lankan Road-Trip ("GLR" - not to be confused with Greater London Railways, which doesn't actually take you anywhere) to see the natural splendour and genuine warmth this beautiful country has to offer. When I was younger and living out of my father's wallet even more than I am now, road-trips with my friends culminated in little shacks in Hikkaduwa or Unawatuna, someone's grandmother's family bungalow on an estate somewhere or an affordable mid-range hotel. A few years into my working life, some of the higher-end hotels hove into view but these were relatively few and far between.

These trips tended to revolve around copious amounts of (cheap) alcohol, horrendously unhealthy food and "interesting" cigarettes purchased from P******s (the Bambalapitiya outlet, not the Colpetty one). At that time, you could openly buy ready-rolled or DIY along with your Kottu and Special Tea - the waiters swore blind that the reason they could sell with such impunity was that their main suppliers were the BIKs (Boys in Khaki), creating a free market enterprise out of the produce confiscated during their regular raids, instead of sending the stuff up in smoke as the papers reported. Preposterous as it may sound, I saw something on one occasion that tended to make the waiters' claims more credible than they sounded... I was sitting in the back of a friend's SUV outside P******s watching him and another buddy smoke a special ciggie with his special tea (I, of course, never partook of any of these things, being the good and virtuous boy that I am), the car fogged up with smoke as he had the windows up, when a BIK jeep pulled up behind us (one of those Blue Pajeros). Needless to say, panic ensued inside our fogged-up car, fuelled by the paranoia caused by the foggy state we were all in (I may not have partaken, but hey - one has to breathe and the windows were up...) and no doubt ends of promising careers, recriminations from angry parents, public shame etc etc flashed before three pairs of eyes as a couple of the BIKs got out of their car and ambled slowly towards us, rubbing their bellies in that peculiar way all Sri Lankan BIKs have (I think it's part of their basic training). They looked in at us, nodded and proceeded into P******s carrying a duffel bag. A short while later, they ambled out again, wiping Faluda (complimentary - the BIKs never pay for any comestibles nor for three-wheeler rides) from their lips, rubbing their bellies and minus their duffel bag. Another look in the window, a nod and a knowing grin and off they proceeded in their Blue Pajero... in herbio veritas, as they say.

Anyway, back to the road trips. For someone like myself, one of the biggest joys of the trip was the drive itself. There is a special skill required to drive on Sri Lankan roads, one that can only be learned from experience. The key lesson to be remembered is "spot a gap, hit it without hesitating". Hesitation can be fatal (literally) if one wants to drive fast and get there at all. The only other alternative is to bimble along at a sedate 50kmph, never overtake anyone, and factor in an extra day either side of the journey for the drive up and back. The secret to making long road trips remotely bearable is to leave at 3am, bomb down as far as you can until the morning traffic starts and then switch over to the see-gap-hit-gap method. This mode of driving is fine for the driver but does tend to disquiet one's passengers, especially if one's passengers veer towards the dramatic and artsy: "I'm never ever ever getting in a car with you again" is a refrain I have often heard and it's always been music to my ears - a sign that I have (a) got us there quickly and efficiently and (b) I have got us there.

In my defence, though, when you have a road like this:

in front of you - dead straight, decently paved, nothing else in sight - how can anyone with a shred of a spark in them resist hitting a cruising speed of 160kmph?

Trincomalee


The photo above was taken on the Dambulla - Trincomalee road (no, I wasn't driving at the time - I'm crazy but not that crazy). Trinco used to be one of my favourite road-trip destinations, even during the height of the civil war when the region (N-E Sri Lanka) was quite dangerous. Every visit to Trinco (bar one) was to the Sea Angler's Club in Clappenberg Bay - a private member's fishing club, that provided basic, but homely, amenities. Sadly the Club is no more in Clappenberg Bay, having been evicted to make way for a large Naval facility. The Club featured a row of rooms built along a shady corridor facing the Bay. Toilets were communal (by which I mean one shared them with other guests as well as frogs the size of your head), dining was at long tables in the clubhouse and fishing was an optional activity, if one could fit it in between heavy bouts of lying around idly (on a couple of beds removed from the room and set up in the corridor), drinking, eating Madana Mole (another uniquely Sri Lankan herbal remedy) and shooting the breeze.

A very inspiring setting, Clappenberg Bay: a perfectly still basin-like expanse of sea, circled almost like a bracelet by gentle slopes covered in that very North-Eastern kind of scrub tree, with a narrow mouth leading out to the open water. The idyllic setting has inspired poetry ("China Bay Blues" by my old friend, Afdhel Aziz), poetic dross ("The Muezzin Chants drift over the bay at night" by yours truly - in my defence, the Muezzin were chanting, and the sound was actually drifting over the bay and it was night-time...) and a terrific appetite for the chef's awesome pol sambol (yes, again with the PS), freshly-caught fish curry, devilled cuttlefish (line-caught in front of our eyes off the end of the Club's jetty), garlic prawns and the piece-de-resistance, Crab Curry heaped in a massive mound of claws at the centre of the table. My Japanese friend, Mari, was moved to smack her lips and exclaim in her native language (a stream of excited babble with the words "sushi" and "sashimi" thrown in here and there) when she saw the several hundred Sea Urchins dotting the sea-bed just off the jetty, but the rest of managed to dissuade her from introducing us to any culinary encounters of the spiny type.

(On a side-note, I did eat Sea Urchin sashimi several years later in a Japanese restaurant in KL. It was revolting).

When the war situation was relatively stable (such as during one of the numerous cease-fires), you could take the Club's boats out trolling the open sea and chances were you'd return with a decent catch - Estuary Perch, Seerfish, Kingfish or Paraw - but as the situation continued to worsen, trolling was limited to the Bay itself and chances of catching anything other than a Navy bullet were remote. I'm not being flip about the Navy bullets - on my last trip there, I was out fishing early morning with my friend Lexi when a Navy gunship hove into view out of nowhere, deck-guns and AK-47s pointing directly at us...we were boarded, guns were pointed, our pilot was yelled at, our gear pulled at and we were told in no uncertain terms to bugger off back to the club and stay off the Bay. It wasn't a particularly pleasant experience, but it was a very Sri Lankan one at the time and a sober reminder of the situation we were living in...

Returning from an open-water troll in 1994

Minutes before we were boarded by the Navy gunship, 1998

The Club is still active, albeit currently nomadic. You can check out the club website here: http://www.ceylonseaanglers.com/

At the right time of year (usually between May to August), Trinco is arguably the finest destination for anyone seeking a beach holiday. In season, the waters off the N-E coast are exceptional - calm, crystal clear and perfect for swimming, snorkelling, fishing and diving. The town of Trincomalee boasts one of the deepest natural harbours in the world and the surrounding areas feature white-sand beaches that stretch for miles on end. At the coastline, the sea is so shallow and calm that you can walk out into the ocean for a good 200 metres and only be waist deep in water - it is ideal for little kids to splash around in. The coast off Trinco is dotted with little uninhabited islands on which one can swim out to from the boat for a picnic and a day spent lazing about the beach. There are also a number of islands that are great for snorkelling off, with plenty of tropical fish and the occasional Black-tip Shark to be seen. Further out to sea, there is great diving, deep-sea fishing and whale-watching to be enjoyed. If you're really really lucky, you might even see a pod of Orca out there...

With the end of the war, there are now several options for places to stay in Trinco, including: the relatively new Chaaya Blu (http://www.chaayahotels.com/chaayaBlu.htm) the well-established Nilaveli Beach Hotel (http://www.tangerinehotels.com/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=68&Itemid=41) and the brand-new Pigeon Island Resort (http://www.pigeonislandresort.com/). I haven't stayed at either of the new ones yet and have only stopped once at Nilaveli (the Sea Angler's Club was the only place I'd have ever considered when it was still around) when it was a more basic resort than it is now, but I have heard good things about all three and will report back once I have explored each one properly.

Unawatuna


Unawatuna beach, a couple of miles further south of Galle, used to be another favoured road-trip destination. Significantly closer to Colombo than Trinco, Unwatuna was a great destination for spontaneous weekender, taking off on Friday evening and returning late Sunday night. Being on the southern coast, the season for Unawatuna is very different to Trinco, beginning in late November and ending in late March. During these five months the weather is usually fine down-south, the seas calm and friendly (during the rest of the year the southern seas can be treacherous with sudden rip-tides mere metres off the beach) and the beaches populated with an eclectic mix of foreign sun-seekers and local weekend-trippers (I should mention at this stage that the Unawatuna beach itself is usually safe for swimming throughout the year because it is protected by a natural barrier reef).

Unawatuna Beach

The main strip of beach is dotted with little cafes and restaurants, inns and family-run hotels. The vibe is laid-back, relaxed (mostly because 90% of the people there are lost in a smoky reverie) and very peaceful. Back in the day of the road-trip, my friends and I used to usually stay at a shack-like inn on the beach called "Banana Garden", owned and operated by the genial Saliya. These days, Banana Garden is a more commercial operation and, although I have not been in to have a look around recently, seems to have lots its bohemian appeal of the late 90s.

Another lovely stop used to be a historical Dutch Villa set in its own private garden some way back from the beach with access to a more private stretch of the strand. Nooit Gedacht (http://www.go-lanka.com/Unawatuna/nooit-gedacht-hotel/nooit-gedacht-hotel_unawatuna.html) has preserved much of its original look-and-feel and offers comfortable bedrooms, private verandahs and very tasty food in the communal dining room. This used to be a great place for privacy and rumination, with the operators taking a very discreet approach in leaving guests alone unless asked for. The villa also has a quaint little courtyard at the back complete with swimming pool.

Breakfast at Nooit Gedacht in the private verandah

There are plenty of other walk-in inns (ha ha) and small hotels along the beach, but if you want something more commercial, you can go for the only large hotel on the beach, the UBR (http://www.unawatunabeachresort.com/), which is a typical beach-resort type place. Not my cup of tea, but probably the best bet for large groups, package tours and families.

If you're looking for more luxury, then one of Sri Lanka's luxurious boutique hotels - The Fortress in Koggala (http://www.thefortress.lk/) - is a good choice, just down the road from Unwatuna. We are talking high-end here, with room rates running from USD 250++ to USD 560++ in the high season (Sri Lankans and resident foreigners get special rates subject to availability), but we are also talking value for money. The hotel is designed in a boutique-style and features elegant wood-furnished rooms, very funky (as in "Disco", not "smelly") bathrooms, superb food, excellent service and a stunning swimming pool facing the sea. The rooms here are so nice you don't feel like leaving them, especially with little touches like an iPod dock and a Nespresso machine in each one. The bathrooms are splendid too - modern in design, lots of gleaming white porcelain, chrome showers and a cool, kidney-shaped bathtub. The hotel is built to look like a 17th century Dutch fortress, high walls on the land-side to maintain privacy. The staff (mostly from the surrounding area) are friendly, smiley and very obliging. This place is well worth a visit.

View from my bedroom at The Fortress

Trinco and Unwatuna are just two of the old familiar road-trip destinations I want to tell you about, but I shan't bang on about all of them here as I don't want to bore my fledgling readership to death with only my third post... more to come in due course in "The Great Lankan Road-trip, part 2" so stay tuned.

I had some feedback from my friendly neighbourhood blog critic and friendly neighbourhood friend, DT (a very apt pseudonym - as much a state of being on a Monday morning as a set of initials), saying that my ode to pol sambol ended rather abruptly. I have to acknowledge that this is true, as I had by then run out of things to say and was also late for my weekly Monday afternoon round of golf with the Former Tennis Champion, who is also rather good at golf and has beaten me every time we've played, thus far. I shall wreak my rewengay one day, but in the meantime have to content myself with fleecing the old boys on the weekend four-balls...

I shall leave you with a link to one of my all time favourite road-trip songs of all time, All Over You, by Live: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hee0aUVnK1U - if you are one of the GLR gang in the 90s and early noughties, I hope this track brings back pleasantly nostalgic memories of being scared sh*tless as I rounded a blind corner at 150kmph and if you aren't one of that gang, just enjoy the song - it's a bloody good one released when Live were making good music instead of getting all wanky about the dolphins and losing their focus...

Enjoy!