Rafthouses, Waterfalls and a pancake - mmmmm

Our alarm went off at seven after another night of broken sleep, due to a certain someone’s loud breathing - in fairness to the South London Geezer, I think the fact that he is having to resort to smoking cigarettes because Vaping is illegal over here, isn’t really helping the snoring situation. In fact, at around 2am, I’d popped out to go to the loo, down at the other end of the raft and only managed to find my way back to our room by following the sound of the snores!

Breakfast was brought over by speedboat, it consisted of cold meats and a cold fried egg on toast. To be honest, the egg wasn’t too bad and I gave the ham, bacon and sausage to The Tootster,  who was quite happy to eat it as well as his own - I think the snoring gave him an appetite. 

After breakfast we said goodbye to the river as we were ‘tugged’ back to shore where we climbed on board our awaiting mini vans and started to make our way up to Kanchanaburi; a city found in the West of Thailand where the rivers Kwai Noi and Kwai Yai meet. And a place  infamous for the WW2 ‘Death Railway’ running from Thailand up to Burma as it crosses over the bridge on the River Kwai. 

On route, we stopped off  to take a look and possibly swim in the Erewan waterfalls found in the National Park in the Tenasserim Hills. Erewan is the mythological three headed Hindu elephant of which the waterfalls are said to resemble. At this point you should know dear reader, that when I say waterfalls I do mean it in the plural; there are seven of them and each has its own name. Or at least we were told seven, but having climbed up each of the tiers; 1,500 meters (roughly 4922 feet!) we discovered there are a couple of smaller ones ‘thrown’ in between. The terrain is pretty rugged in places, but there are also steps and railings in some parts. Put it this way, it’s a pretty good work out amongst absolutely stunning scenery. 

The first waterfall (Lhai Keun Lung) is easy to get to, possibly too shallow to swim in, filled with lots of tiny fish, that I, quite sure would be happy to swim alongside you. The next waterfall (Wang Matcha) is slightly deeper and more inviting for bathing. Walking further up, we bypassed waterfall number three (Pha Nam Tok) as it was a little way out to the right and we were on a roll to get to the top, so continued up the steps and over the limestone rocks until we reached number four (Oke Nang Phee Suer).  We stopped briefly to take in the sights and sounds of the cascading water before setting off for number five, also known as Buer Mai. It was now getting quite busy with visitors; tourists posing in bikinis, trunks and even Speedos! 

Waterfall six (Dong Pruek) was just as beautiful, but the trail was getting slightly harder for my untrained legs and by the time we reached the next one, I was feeling quite chuffed that I’d climbed all seven, only to be told we had only got to six and a half. Apparently, the seventh one (Phu Pha) was reached by wading through the water and up some ‘knarly’ rocks, (muttered by an Australian tourist as he passed us by). Well that was it, as soon as I’d heard ‘knarly’ I knew I was done, happy with 6 and a half, that was a good enough number for me. 

The Tootster wanted to give 7 a go, so I sat with Lucy, one of the Aussies in our group and watched as other tourists made their way across, balancing and some even slipping on the wet rock, (no serious injuries just sore bums and dirty trousers).

It’s a pretty tranquil place, despite all the tourists making their way through, beautiful and serene and a must to visit should you find yourself out here. 

Lunch was just at a local cafe - more noodles - before heading off to our next pit stop; The Death Railway.  

The Thai-Burma Railway, better known as The Death Railway, was built in 1943 by British and Allied POWs and migrant workers who died from exhaustion, torture, starvation and sickness for their captors, the Japanese, during World War Two. It runs runs for 258 miles from Ban Pong in Thailand through to Thanbyuzayat in Myanmar (Burma). And although closed in 1947 a small section was re-opened ten years later. Possibly more for the tourist industry than locals as we seemed to be the majority commuters on board. 

The history of the Railway is tragic, but more of that in my next post after we visit the museum. Suffice it to say that visiting the track before climbing on board was quite a sobering experience, standing in the searing heat - not even the hottest time of the year - looking up at the Rocky Mountain above that had been cut through with nothing more than hand tools and the deep water below, then  thinking about the thousands of men who gave their lives building it under pain of death and torture. 

We all climbed into the carriage and the train set off taking us on our final bit to Kanchanaburi. It was busy, filled with tourists as I said earlier, hot, sweaty and crammed like a commuter trip on the Northern Line on London’s underground. The only difference was seeing fields of Tapioca and sugar cane as opposed to black soot lined walls. 

Finally, we reached our destination and clambered off the train just in timeto watch the sun slowly setting over The Bridge on the River Kwai. 

That night we booked into The Good Times resort and that it certainly was! The beds were so comfy in comparison to the night before, the food was lovely and the sleep was welcome.

The hotel restaurant looked out over the river, dinner was delicious and I went to bed a happy ginger lass; I had been in search all week for proper Thai banana pancakes and that afternoon by the bridge I’d found a vendor making them! You’ve never really appreciated Thailand til you’ve had one of these and so with my belly full, I retired for the night, fulfilled and ready to sleep.

Rafthouses, Waterfalls and a pancake - mmmmm

Our alarm went off at seven after another night of broken sleep, due to a certain someone’s loud breathing - in fairness to the South London Geezer, I think the fact that he is having to resort to smoking cigarettes because Vaping is illegal over here, isn’t really helping the snoring situation. In fact, at around 2am, I’d popped out to go to the loo, down at the other end of the raft and only managed to find my way back to our room by following the sound of the snores!

Breakfast was brought over by speedboat, it consisted of cold meats and a cold fried egg on toast. To be honest, the egg wasn’t too bad and I gave the ham, bacon and sausage to The Tootster,  who was quite happy to eat it as well as his own - I think the snoring gave him an appetite. 

After breakfast we said goodbye to the river as we were ‘tugged’ back to shore where we climbed on board our awaiting mini vans and started to make our way up to Kanchanaburi; a city found in the West of Thailand where the rivers Kwai Noi and Kwai Yai meet. And a place  infamous for the WW2 ‘Death Railway’ running from Thailand up to Burma as it crosses over the bridge on the River Kwai. 

On route, we stopped off  to take a look and possibly swim in the Erewan waterfalls found in the National Park in the Tenasserim Hills. Erewan is the mythological three headed Hindu elephant of which the waterfalls are said to resemble. At this point you should know dear reader, that when I say waterfalls I do mean it in the plural; there are seven of them and each has its own name. Or at least we were told seven, but having climbed up each of the tiers; 1,500 meters (roughly 4922 feet!) we discovered there are a couple of smaller ones ‘thrown’ in between. The terrain is pretty rugged in places, but there are also steps and railings in some parts. Put it this way, it’s a pretty good work out amongst absolutely stunning scenery. 

The first waterfall (Lhai Keun Lung) is easy to get to, possibly too shallow to swim in, filled with lots of tiny fish, that I, quite sure would be happy to swim alongside you. The next waterfall (Wang Matcha) is slightly deeper and more inviting for bathing. Walking further up, we bypassed waterfall number three (Pha Nam Tok) as it was a little way out to the right and we were on a roll to get to the top, so continued up the steps and over the limestone rocks until we reached number four (Oke Nang Phee Suer).  We stopped briefly to take in the sights and sounds of the cascading water before setting off for number five, also known as Buer Mai. It was now getting quite busy with visitors; tourists posing in bikinis, trunks and even Speedos! 

Waterfall six (Dong Pruek) was just as beautiful, but the trail was getting slightly harder for my untrained legs and by the time we reached the next one, I was feeling quite chuffed that I’d climbed all seven, only to be told we had only got to six and a half. Apparently, the seventh one (Phu Pha) was reached by wading through the water and up some ‘knarly’ rocks, (muttered by an Australian tourist as he passed us by). Well that was it, as soon as I’d heard ‘knarly’ I knew I was done, happy with 6 and a half, that was a good enough number for me. 

The Tootster wanted to give 7 a go, so I sat with Lucy, one of the Aussies in our group and watched as other tourists made their way across, balancing and some even slipping on the wet rock, (no serious injuries just sore bums and dirty trousers).

It’s a pretty tranquil place, despite all the tourists making their way through, beautiful and serene and a must to visit should you find yourself out here. 

Lunch was just at a local cafe - more noodles - before heading off to our next pit stop; The Death Railway.  

The Thai-Burma Railway, better known as The Death Railway, was built in 1943 by British and Allied POWs and migrant workers who died from exhaustion, torture, starvation and sickness for their captors, the Japanese, during World War Two. It runs runs for 258 miles from Ban Pong in Thailand through to Thanbyuzayat in Myanmar (Burma). And although closed in 1947 a small section was re-opened ten years later. Possibly more for the tourist industry than locals as we seemed to be the majority commuters on board. 

The history of the Railway is tragic, but more of that in my next post after we visit the museum. Suffice it to say that visiting the track before climbing on board was quite a sobering experience, standing in the searing heat - not even the hottest time of the year - looking up at the Rocky Mountain above that had been cut through with nothing more than hand tools and the deep water below, then  thinking about the thousands of men who gave their lives building it under pain of death and torture. 

We all climbed into the carriage and the train set off taking us on our final bit to Kanchanaburi. It was busy, filled with tourists as I said earlier, hot, sweaty and crammed like a commuter trip on the Northern Line on London’s underground. The only difference was seeing fields of Tapioca and sugar cane as opposed to black soot lined walls. 

Finally, we reached our destination and clambered off the train just in timeto watch the sun slowly setting over The Bridge on the River Kwai. 

That night we booked into The Good Times resort and that it certainly was! The beds were so comfy in comparison to the night before, the food was lovely and the sleep was welcome.

The hotel restaurant looked out over the river, dinner was delicious and I went to bed a happy ginger lass; I had been in search all week for proper Thai banana pancakes and that afternoon by the bridge I’d found a vendor making them! You’ve never really appreciated Thailand til you’ve had one of these and so with my belly full, I retired for the night, fulfilled and ready to sleep.

Back in Bangkok, hello Buddha.

Jet lag is such a bloody pain in the arse, it truly is! In spite of feeling exhausted and going to bed around 11:30 after a great meal out with the group and falling asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow, I was awake 2 hours later and in effect for the rest of the night/morning. I was desperately trying to get back to sleep but each time I inched closer to hanging out with The Sandman, I felt an adrenaline surge, then my brain kicked in and berated me for being awake when I had to get up at 6:30! Now how does that make any sense?

Turns out The Tootster was awake too. He finally gave up fighting his jet lag and went for a walk around five until the hotel’s restaurant opened at six for breakfast, at which time I thankfully fell asleep and started dreaming about being a cat burglar only to be woken by the alarm click going off half an hour later, (just as I was explaining to the lady of the house that I was burglaring that I had only popped in to make myself a Pad Thai?!)

Anyway, suffice it to say, by 8am when we met up with the group, we were both completely exhausted and struggling to stay awake on the short mini bus ride over to Wat Po, to see the worlds largest Reclining Buddha, measuring in at a mere 46 meters long. And as I stared up at this monumentally, magnificent, mammoth statue - who’s head was about the size of my Ford Fiesta - all I wanted to do was climb up, lie beside him and sleep. 

Wat Po, or to give it, its full title: Wat Phra Chetuphon Vimolmangklararm Rajwaramahaviharn, (which I wouldn’t be able to say even if I was wide awake!), is found in the Phra Nakhon District in Bangkok and a must to go see. I had already been when I was last over in Thailand six years ago and I still found it just as wonderous as I did then. 

Early as it was, the sun was already beginning to beat down on us as we walked through the grounds, admiring the various jewelled Stupors and smaller Buddhas. So, I was quite relieved to be told we were moving on, to go on a Klong boat canal ride. ‘How relaxing’, I thought, as I had images of us lying under canvas, on sun chairs as we drifted down the canal admiring the scenery. 

Well this couldn’t be further from the truth! A Klong Boat is like a long canoe and we were required to don life jackets and sit two abreast as the boat travelled at speed, bouncing off the waves on the Chao Phraya River, whilst we caught glimpses of life living in stilt built shacks in the waterfront settlements, either side of the river bank. 

However, it was great fun, despite being completely saturated and slightly concerned that I may have to bring up the small amount of food I’d had for breakfast. But it certainly woke me up!

After disembarking and eating a healthy lunch of noodles we were back on the bus for a two and a half hour drive towards Kanchanaburi. Where we climbed on board a Raft House; our accommodation for the night and then we were dragged out by Tug boat further up the river towards the Sirinakarin damn. 

The rafthouse was moored up along the river bank and it was here that we got to swim in the cooling water, relax on deck chairs under canvas and watch as the sun slowly began to set. What an amazing and peaceful way to end the day. 

Our room itself was pretty basic, big enough to accommodate our bed with about a foot at the end to squeeze our bags into. And strangely enough there was even a TV on a shelf in the corner of the room?

Dinner was delivered to us by speed boat, (not a Deliveroo or Uber sign in sight) and straight to the table; fresh fish which I hoped was not one of the many we had been feeding from the side of the Klong boat earlier that day. 

The food coma started to kick in, probably exacerbated by the two over sweetened bottles of ‘Classic’ wine cooler that had accompanied my dinner and it wasn’t long before I was tucked up in bed. I didn’t care that the mattress was hard and the pillow felt like a concrete block, I was knackered and ready to sleep. And I did, for a couple of hours until the very familiar sound of South London snoring awoke me from my slumber! 

Heathrow to Bangkok in 16 hours ....

The morning started with a bang - well almost! Alarm went off at 3:45 and we were up and heading out at exactly 4:30. My friends neighbour does a bit of driving and we had arranged for her to take us to the airport at such an unsociable hour. The thing is, she was being very sociable chit-chatting to us and didn’t realise that she’d taken the slip road onto the North Circular from the WRONG SIDE!

So, as our driver sat merrily telling us all about the new member in their household - a little pet Chihuahua called Lily - I was staring out at the road thinking something looked strange. Suddenly, me South London Geezer; who up until now was sat in silence in the back, mutters: “You’re on the wrong side of the road”. But the chit-chatter continued and a cold sweat started to break out across my whole body, as I realised exactly what he meant. “You’re on the wrong side of the road, you’re on the wrong side of the road!!! He finally screamed from the back seat of the car. 

“Oh really?” The driver says very calmly. “Never mind, is ok”. And she calmly reverses back up to the traffic lights, saying it was because we, (WE?!) were chatting so much she got confused and didn’t notice, but not to worry all was fine. 

Luckily at that time of the morning, there wasn’t too much traffic, save for for some poor driver in an oncoming car, who thankfully wasn’t going at speed and understandably gave us an extremely shocked look as we reversed away from him at speed with Tooting Tony desperately asking our ‘chauffeur’  to just drive over the central reservation!

Suffice it to say we made it to Terminal 4 in one piece and with plenty of time to check in and have breakfast. The rest of the journey consisted of a seven hour flight to Muscat (Capital of Oman) where we picked up our five hour flight to Bangkok. The only bother we had, was a middle-aged man who was getting on most of the passengers nerves, as he spent most of the flight, stood in the aisle, talking loudly across to his friends who were sat in various groups scattered around our section of the cabin. At the end of the flight when we were all buckled into our seats while the plane came into land, the aforementioned ‘pain in the arse’ refused to sit down, despite various cabin crew calling over to him from their seats, demanding that he did. I think at that point, there was a collective wish from crew and passengers for the overhead locker to spring open and his oversized suitcase that he’d dragged onto the plane to ‘sort out the problem passenger’ ... It didn’t. 

We got picked up at the airport and taken to The Prime Hotel Central Station in one piece by 8.30am, jet-lagged and intending to drop off our luggage and head out for breakfast. But, the room wasn’t going to be ready til for another three hours!

So we stepped outside, into the already searing heat but couldn’t find anywhere local to eat, plus we were still dressed in jeans etc and overheating and ready to pass out. So, we decided on the breakfast buffet at our hotel, where I managed to eat almost constantly and possibly the whole buffet, until serving finished at 10. (Jet lag has a strange effect on the appetite). 

The room was still not ready, so we sat in reception completely dazed, shattered and ready to explode from noodle overload until finally, we were allowed in our room at 11.30 only to find as lovely as it was, there were no windows! This can be quite disconcerting on the best of days, let alone when struggling with jet lag! 

Still, we managed to slip into a few hours sleep and despite waking up and feeling really confused as to what time, day or even planet we were on, we jumped in a Tuk Tuk and headed down to the Koh San Road for a mooch around the numerous market stalls, selling the usual clothes, bags, shoes and weaponry! I kid you not! One stall had on display various knives, knuckle dusters and stun guns - not sure any of that would get past customs? 

Then it was time for a bite to eat, a couple of drinks and a foot massage - ok the latter part was for me - after which we went back to the hotel for a decent nights kip. Well we can live in hope ....

And so, after a really bad nights sleep, we dragged ourselves to breakfast then headed up to see Jim Thompson’s House. For those of you who don’t know, he was a very talented Architect who joined the American Army during the Second World War and was stationed out here in Thailand just after the war came to an end. He is most famous for re-introducing the silk Industry over here and putting this country on the map as part of the silk route. He was also a collector of fine Asian Art, which he gathered (some say pillaged) from his travels around this neck of the world; treasures such as Vases, paintings, furniture and even a whole Chinese house. I would definitely suggest reading up on him, he lead quite an interesting life. But what happened to him in the end is even more interesting, no one knows .... some say he went out for a walk, some say for a cigarette, but either way one fateful day in 1965 he went out and never came home. And to this day no one knows why or what became of him .....

The rest of day was pretty simple, we slept in our darkened, no windowed room until it was time to meet the group we are to be spending the next six days with and so at 6pm, refreshed from our sleep we gathered in the lobby.

Turns out we are a group of 15: four Canadians, one American, two Aussies, two Germans, an Italian and five Brits (all from England). I’m not very good at remembering names, except I know there are two Daves, however, I can’t remember which two they are.

After a lovely dinner at a local restaurant, a few of us went for a walk around China Town with our group leader.. His name is Samet but everyone calls him Joe, or as he likes to be called: ‘Spicy Joe’. Now that name I can remember.  

And so now it’s time to bid you all goodnight. We have an early start tomorrow visiting a temple, a floating market and a two hour drive up to The River Kwai where we will spend the night on a floating Raft House. Should be fun ..... I hope. 

Time to pack my things and go!

Swasdi, (pronounced Sah-wah-dee), one and all! It’s January (just about) and therefore that time of year when I take my annual jaunt to sunnier climes. And if you’ve not guessed from my initial greeting; this year, I am returning to the wonderful Thailand!

Those of you that have been following my travel blog over the last few years, may remember my trip around Indo-China back in 2013, which included a very brief start and finish in Thailand. Since then, I’ve wanted to go back and see more. And so, at 4:30 tomorrow morning I get to tick another wish off my bucket list.

Apologies for not managing to finish my blog last year in Sri Lanka, but the last few days I was quite distracted with the after effects from drinking a fresh fruit juice made with ‘no tap water’ that clearly did have tap water, resulting in me spending most of my time either in the bathroom or curled up in bed feeling sorry for myself. Sadly, this meant I missed out on an amazing jeep safari and not fully enjoying the whale watching a few days later as our boat bounced along the ‘mild’ waves off the coast of Mirissa. The upside was that I did lose enough weight to feel bikini confident as we strolled down the sandy beach.

My travel companion this year, is yet again, the lovely South London Geezer: ‘Tooting Tony’, (nicknamed after his place of birth and nothing to do with digestive issues!). He has surprisingly has not been put off going away with me again despite the aforementioned ‘Fruit Juice Fiasco’. 

In our first week we will be traveling with G Adventures Tours from Bangkok to Chiang Mai,which includes a Raft House stay on the The River Kwai and an over night train ride. The final week we are on our own, as we head up to Thad Lod Caves, over by the Burmese border, before making our way back down to Bangkok via the beach town of Krabi.

It’s at this point in my yearly blog that I like to reflect on how the previous year has been and to be honest, 2018 was a year with not too much to report on, aside from a lovely birthday weekend in Bath, a summer break in Corfu, (boy is it hilly there!) and the realisation that hot flushes and night sweats are not due to climate change, but in fact, a completely different ‘change’ altogether!

And so, with my legs freshly waxed and my bags neatly packed, our alarm goes off in three hours time! I will attempt to keep the blog updated over the next couple of weeks and pray that this years trip is sickness free. So for now, I guess there’s nothing more for me to say except:

‘Cnkẁā ca t̄hụng khrậng t̀x pị’ - until next time ....

I want Kandy!

I woke from a very restful sleep, having found a solution to the snoring - two pillows!! Apparently though, I was the one snoring last night (I guess that’s what you call Karma!)

We were off to Matale (pronounced ‘Metarl-lay’). Stopping off first at one of the many Spice Gardens/Shops. To be honest we both thought that it was yet another ‘Tourist Trap’; having been shown around part of the grounds where our guide introduced us to a few spices that they grew there and told us about their healing qualities. He then took us to a covered area where we were invited to sit down at a table whilst he went through the lotions and potions laid out before us that had been made out of their spices, then gave us a list everything too After that, we were hurried over to a couple of chairs where The Tootster was asked to remove his shirt - luckily I wasn’t! Then a couple of ‘professional’ Ayurvedic masseuses massaged some anti-inflammatory oil into our forehead, shoulders and arms (TT got his back done too) and immediately after that we were ushered over to the shop and encouraged to buy. I felt bad leaving empty handed after all the effort they’d put into ‘the big sell’, so decided to go for the anti-inflammatory massage oil. I was told it was 2,800 Sri Lankan Rupees which is roughly £12. A bit pricey as I’d expected, but i thought it would be nice to use on those of my clients who are suffering with pain. My mistake. Once I got to the till to pay, I realised I’d misheard; the price was actually 12,800 Sri Lankan Rupees which amounts to approx £61!!! (Far more pricey than I’d expected. I apologised profusely for my mistake, told them I thought it was too much, they tried to sell me a smaller bottle that would still have cost me £30, I repeated “way to expensive” and apologised (well I am British). They looked at us with doleful eyes so we turned and scarpered - now with a headache!

Our next town was Kandy and as we drove through the centre, Jay pointed out the area where he lived with his wife and two children. This turned out to be quite fortuitous as I was in desperate need to relieve myself of the gallons of water I had been knocking back and Jay suggested we pop into his house where I could use the facilities. 

Jays Home is in a beautiful rural area filled with rice gardens on either side of the windy road. It was also really lovely to meet his wife and his son; who was Home from school that day. And I was more than delighted to find their toilet was a western style one. It was probably very ignorant of me but I thought there’d be a big chance it would be a squat style loo and my legs were still not really talking to me after our climb up Sigirya Rock!

Half an hour later after a hot cup of sweet tea we bid our farewells and left. Jay had picked up a few clothes and I wasn’t overly impressed to see that one item was a warm fleece!!

My friend Jennifer and her family had been out here in Sri Lanka over the Christmas holidays and told me about the lovely Ayurvedic massage she’d had, then suggested I had one too. But I was reluctant to having had one in India six years ago and didn’t like the fact that I’d had to strip off completely. Jenny told me not to worry, that she’d been given paper pants to wear. 

And so, whilst on the way to the hotel we were staying at that night, I asked Jay if he could suggest a place where I could get a proper Ayurvedic massage. He dropped me off at a Spa Centre and I booked a treatment during which time The South London Geezer went next door for his favourite therapy; a beer or two. 

So you can imagine my shock when the therapist took me into the room and told me to take everything off. I reluctantly pointed to my underwear and she nodded. 

To be honest the treatment was fine, at least she used a sarong to cover my more ‘personal’ areas. After the massage, she had me lay down in a contraption that I can only describe as something that looked like an old fashioned sunbed with the lid that pulls down - but this one was made from wood!

I lay down on the wooden slats through which heat and steam was rising and she closed the lid down leaving my head sticking out at the end (thank goodness).  I cooked for ten minutes then she helped me out and stood me before her and towelled off the excess oil whilst I tried desperately not to slide around on my over slippery feet. 

It has to be said, my skin felt amazing afterwards and I felt so relaxed that by the time we got to The Margaret Villa where we were to be staying the next two nights, I was struggling to stay awake. And that night if there was snoring, dogs howling or fireworks, I wouldn’t know, cause I slept like a baby. 

Sigirya ... we made it!

It’s Wednesday morning and I’ve had yet another night of broken sleep thanks to ‘the snorer’ in the room! It didn’t help that the alarm went off at 6:45am in order for us to set off early for Sigirya Rock, (Lion Rock), before the sun gets too hot for us to climb the 1,200 steps - 200 meters - to the top.

Jay picked us up after breakfast and we started the short drive to the ancient capital, (yep another one), avoiding, as ever, the numerous dogs languishing in the road. (Equivalent to all the cows on the roads in India). According to Jay, the dogs are neither wild nor strays, in fact he insists they all have loving owners. I find it hard to believe as a lot of them look pretty mangy or even half starved. Either way, they generally don’t bother to move and seem completely fearless of any cars whilst staring back at the oncoming driver who eventually manoeuvre around them. 

Ok, so, Sigirya in a nut shell (possibly more the size of a coconut shell): it was declared a world heritage site in 1982. Originally a place where Buddhist monks sought refuge as far back as the third century BC. Then a few centuries after, Dhatusena of Anuradhapura declared he would leave his throne to his son Mogallana. His other son Kassapa was furious and drove Mogallana into exile in India then eventually murdered their father.  

On hearing that Mogallana was to return, Kassapa built a new residence on top of Sigirya rock to be a pleasure Palace and an impenetrable fortress with a whole new city around its base. 

A few years later, Mogallana invaded.  Kassapa, for some reason, decided to ride out on an elephant at the head of his army and face their invading enemy below. However, at the height of the battle, the elephant got frightened, turned round and started to flee. Kassapa’s troops thought that he was retreating and fled back, leaving Kassapa out on his own, who through fear of being captured, killed himself. (I think that’s what you’d call Karma.)

After his win, Mogallana gave Sigirya back to the Buddhist Monks who returned to solitude and prayer within the caves and the rest of the site was left to wrack and ruin. 

Anyway, suffice it to say, once I’d managed to get my breath back after climbing the 1,200 steps - which is a huge feat for someone like myself who generally walks as far as the front door to the car. I managed to take in the splendour of it all Yet again, The Tootster was very patient with me, being very supportive as I struggled to lift my legs up the last few hundred steps! Or maybe that was because he was feeling guilty that my lack of energy came from my lack of sleep the night before due to his snoring!!

I have to say the site itself was fascinating and the views from up there were stunning. It was most definitely worth the climb - a must if you are ever in Sri Lanka. 

We managed to make it back down in one piece, even though my legs were starting to shake from the exercise I had put them through. And so I treated myself to an ice cream - I figured I’d burnt a justifiable amount of calories. 

Our next part of the day was much more relaxing, we took a short Bullock and cart ride (again I’m a bit concerned about the treatment of the animals. Though the Bullocks did seem to be in a better state than the elephants we’d seen earlier that week). We were taken over to a lake, then hopped into a wooden canoe and taken across the beautiful clear water to a villagers home where we helped the lady of the house prepare lunch. This entailed being shown how to break down the fresh rice then sieve out the husk from the grain; my attempt was not that great considering I managed to scatter most of the rice over the floor! We then watched the lady make a sambal (ground coconut based dish) and various others without the use of any electrical equipment,  just grinding the ingredients on a stone slab with another piece of stone and finally serving our lunch on a large banana leaf. The food was delicious and I am expecting Tootster to re-make it all back home in the UK, thought I won’t involve grinding any rice, a pack of Uncle Bens will have to do! 

I did have to laugh to myself though, thinking how TC would’ve reacted if she were with us. She’d probably have thrown a fit and refused to eat any lunch for fear of catching some deadly disease off the stone slabs or leaves. I remembered back in Kerala, six years ago when we had lunch served in traditional style on a banana leaf but TC made sure she’d cleaned it thoroughly with hand sanitiser first!

After lunch, we were shown a quick demo of how to thatch a roof with palm leaves, then I got upset watching a Monitor lizard swallow a live mouse whole and so we climbed into our waiting Tuk-Tuk and left. While the lunch was delicious, we did feel slightly conned having been under the impression that it was a village tour we’d paid to go on when all we’d seen was one typical village house and how to cook in it, then found out after, that the house had been specially built for the tourists and the lady didn’t even live there!

Nevertheless it had been a busy and fulfilling day and with the few hours we had left, a deserved afternoon by the swimming pool back at our hotel was the perfect reward before repacking our cases, for the following morning we were leaving the Nice Place Hotel and heading off to Kandy via Matale for another fun packed day ...