Some Random Encounters Regarding Money:
1. An ATM machine for the Bank of Ceylon dispensed currency without requesting my PIN number. That is the first time I ever got money without being asked for a PIN. That is a rather disturbing situation if someone takes your ATM card.
2. I am pretty sure that the ATM in Kandy shortchanged me. Instead of 10 bills, I received 9. Same thing happened to another traveler.
3. On leaving Sri Lanka, at a currency exchange counter in the airport, the clerk refused to buy back my currency because I was unable to produce a receipt showing that I had purchased it.
4. In Laos, buy only the smallest amount of currency that you might need. Except for a very limited amount, you cannot sell it back. Anywhere.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Monday, April 26, 2010
A “Full Day” in Jordan Begins at 4:30 AM
The rule was that we were not allowed to leave the hotel before 4:30 AM. Of course, that means that if we have any hope of accomplishing what we needed to do for the day, we should be out the door at 4:30 AM. We had until 10:00 PM to scavenge for the “day”. First stop: Petra.
We really liked our taxi driver from the day before, so we arranged for him to be our man to drive us all the way to the south of the country to do the scavenges farthest away, figuring that less was at risk with other taxi drivers closer to Amman. The Petra scavenge required that we must take the King’s Highway either to or from Petra. Strategically, it made more sense to get to Petra quickly on the alternate Desert Highway, which would allow us to arrive at Petra when it opened. As the day wore on, we could move over to the slower King’s Highway. Christine had already been to Petra twice. I had never been. It was as much of a thrill as I had hoped it would be. It helped that we were there before the crowds and in the pleasant morning air, before the sun was fully above. Our taxi driver had coached us extremely well as to what to do when we got into the gate. The scavenge required riding a horse or a horse-drawn buggy through the Siq down to the Treasury. He advised that we hire the buggy to take us all the way to the end and to wait for us to finish our sightseeing so that he could return us to the front gate. Riding in our silly surrey, jostled on the rocky road, we passed the people on foot who were experiencing this ancient site in a more serene (and sane) way. The Siq is a narrow canyon of red rocks, reminding me of Bryce Canyon’s Wall Street. After gentle twists and turns, the Treasury dramatically appeared before us. It is breathtaking. The sun played on the reddish yellow rocks and it was gorgeous. The surrey trundled down to the end of the Street of Facades where the wide road ended. At that point, again well-advised by our taxi driver, we hired donkeys to carry us up a very steep hill with slippery rock steps, to the Monastery. The round-trip deal we cut with the driver, we later learned, was key. Some of our fellow travelers were abandoned by their donkey guides, left to descend the tricky canyon by themselves. The ride up was one of the more magnificent experiences I have had. We had the canyon to ourselves and our Bedouin donkey guide. As the donkeys plodded up the worn stones and wound us up into the mountains, alongside deep chasms, we marveled at the beauty and serenity of the place. Later that evening, we confessed to each other the dark thoughts that crossed our minds. Mine was that if I fell off the side, I hoped I would be conscious enough so that I could instruct Christine how to use my cell phone and where my MedJet Assist card is so that she could get me helicoptered out of the canyon. It didn’t help that each of our donkeys stumbled a few times. And, later we learned that the donkey that one of our fellow travelers was riding fell down and she fell off. Fortunately, the fall was at the end of the ride, and on a flat spot near the bottom. Good to know after we were finished. The ride down required mind control into an altered state. But, enough of that. The monastery is kind of like the façade of the Treasury below (the Temple of Doom from Indiana Jones). The difference is that it is way, way, way up on the mountain. After returning to the bottom of donkey-ride challenge, we rejoined the main road where we met up with the buggy driver who had waited for our one hour donkey adventure. A footnote about the meeting place. There are ruins of a structure perched on the hill at the junction of these two paths. Flying above the tallest pillar of the structure is a pennant for Brown University. What?!? I had to rub my eyes to see if they were tricking me. The Bruin’s flag is flying in the middle of nowhere in Jordan? I must remember to find out if there is an archeological project underway in Petra.
Next was Wadi Rum, a beautiful and exotic nature preserve. The Seven Pillars of Wisdom is a rock formation rising abruptly out of the ground, which we approached by walking into the desert part way to it. We did not pay one of the 50 or so 4x4 drivers lined up waiting for a customer, of which there were none.
After we finished some additional silly scavenges in the Wadi Rum park, we headed north to Amman, picking up the King’s Highway. Our plan was to get back to Amman and do more scavenges until the 10:00 PM deadline. We did eleven more when we got back into Amman. The highlight of them all was being at the Temple to Hercules at sunset. The Temple ruins are large pillars atop the Citadel Hill, which is an expansive field of ruins peppered with grassy spots. Amman city rings around the hill. As the sun set, Amman seemed to spread out before us in all directions. The buildings appear as tight white boxes pressed together. Lights started to twinkle as the sky became inkier and the sun’s golden glow compressed down to the earth. All at once, the muezzins’ nasal, singsong calls to prayer filled the sky from all directions. What a beautiful, spiritual end to a very full day.
Next stop: Vienna
We really liked our taxi driver from the day before, so we arranged for him to be our man to drive us all the way to the south of the country to do the scavenges farthest away, figuring that less was at risk with other taxi drivers closer to Amman. The Petra scavenge required that we must take the King’s Highway either to or from Petra. Strategically, it made more sense to get to Petra quickly on the alternate Desert Highway, which would allow us to arrive at Petra when it opened. As the day wore on, we could move over to the slower King’s Highway. Christine had already been to Petra twice. I had never been. It was as much of a thrill as I had hoped it would be. It helped that we were there before the crowds and in the pleasant morning air, before the sun was fully above. Our taxi driver had coached us extremely well as to what to do when we got into the gate. The scavenge required riding a horse or a horse-drawn buggy through the Siq down to the Treasury. He advised that we hire the buggy to take us all the way to the end and to wait for us to finish our sightseeing so that he could return us to the front gate. Riding in our silly surrey, jostled on the rocky road, we passed the people on foot who were experiencing this ancient site in a more serene (and sane) way. The Siq is a narrow canyon of red rocks, reminding me of Bryce Canyon’s Wall Street. After gentle twists and turns, the Treasury dramatically appeared before us. It is breathtaking. The sun played on the reddish yellow rocks and it was gorgeous. The surrey trundled down to the end of the Street of Facades where the wide road ended. At that point, again well-advised by our taxi driver, we hired donkeys to carry us up a very steep hill with slippery rock steps, to the Monastery. The round-trip deal we cut with the driver, we later learned, was key. Some of our fellow travelers were abandoned by their donkey guides, left to descend the tricky canyon by themselves. The ride up was one of the more magnificent experiences I have had. We had the canyon to ourselves and our Bedouin donkey guide. As the donkeys plodded up the worn stones and wound us up into the mountains, alongside deep chasms, we marveled at the beauty and serenity of the place. Later that evening, we confessed to each other the dark thoughts that crossed our minds. Mine was that if I fell off the side, I hoped I would be conscious enough so that I could instruct Christine how to use my cell phone and where my MedJet Assist card is so that she could get me helicoptered out of the canyon. It didn’t help that each of our donkeys stumbled a few times. And, later we learned that the donkey that one of our fellow travelers was riding fell down and she fell off. Fortunately, the fall was at the end of the ride, and on a flat spot near the bottom. Good to know after we were finished. The ride down required mind control into an altered state. But, enough of that. The monastery is kind of like the façade of the Treasury below (the Temple of Doom from Indiana Jones). The difference is that it is way, way, way up on the mountain. After returning to the bottom of donkey-ride challenge, we rejoined the main road where we met up with the buggy driver who had waited for our one hour donkey adventure. A footnote about the meeting place. There are ruins of a structure perched on the hill at the junction of these two paths. Flying above the tallest pillar of the structure is a pennant for Brown University. What?!? I had to rub my eyes to see if they were tricking me. The Bruin’s flag is flying in the middle of nowhere in Jordan? I must remember to find out if there is an archeological project underway in Petra.
Next was Wadi Rum, a beautiful and exotic nature preserve. The Seven Pillars of Wisdom is a rock formation rising abruptly out of the ground, which we approached by walking into the desert part way to it. We did not pay one of the 50 or so 4x4 drivers lined up waiting for a customer, of which there were none.
After we finished some additional silly scavenges in the Wadi Rum park, we headed north to Amman, picking up the King’s Highway. Our plan was to get back to Amman and do more scavenges until the 10:00 PM deadline. We did eleven more when we got back into Amman. The highlight of them all was being at the Temple to Hercules at sunset. The Temple ruins are large pillars atop the Citadel Hill, which is an expansive field of ruins peppered with grassy spots. Amman city rings around the hill. As the sun set, Amman seemed to spread out before us in all directions. The buildings appear as tight white boxes pressed together. Lights started to twinkle as the sky became inkier and the sun’s golden glow compressed down to the earth. All at once, the muezzins’ nasal, singsong calls to prayer filled the sky from all directions. What a beautiful, spiritual end to a very full day.
Next stop: Vienna
Jamming Jordan into One Day and a Half: The Half Day Goes First
The first order of business is to get a decent guidebook in English. We went right out of the hotel and paused before getting into just any old taxi. We wanted to make sure that the driver spoke English well. That moment of caution paid off enormously. We passed over a cabbie who smiled a lot but couldn’t converse with us. The next cabbie was a charm. Moussa spoke excellent English and took us to an English bookstore. We bought a Lonely Planet guide to the Middle East. Of the $45 investment in the book, only 65 pages were relevant to Jordan. Precious pages, though, because we are crippled if we don’t have a good guidebook to help figure out what the scavenges mean, and then to map them out to make a plan.
As we sat in Moussa’s cab and strategized, Moussa whisked us right to Jerash, to see the Roman ruins. We had three things to do (walk the Oval Plaza and the Triumphant Arch, and pay respects at the Temple of Artemis). Unfortunately, in our haste to get going, we failed to realize that one of the scavenges was supposed to be done at Jerash – to play out a scene at the Roman Amphitheater by making a video. Oh well. Haste makes waste. No time to go back.
Next was Madaba, a town south of Amman, to see a 19th century world map made of mosaics on the floor of a Greek Orthodox church. We had a mandatory snack at the coffee shop Ayola across the street from the church. It was a delicious chicken sandwich – but then again, things are more delicious when you are starving. To finish the last piece of that scavenge, we had to go to Mount Nebo and take in the view at the top. Our taxi driver raced us up to the gate just in time before they closed for the evening.
We rode down to the Dead Sea to float while reading a newspaper. After a detour to the hotel to get bathing suits, we arrived just as the sun was setting. Not surprisingly, the experience was much like it is on the Israeli side. You take a newspaper and pose for a picture while floating in the salty water. We paid to enter a beach club. We chose an inexpensive one used by locals, rather than trying to navigate the more expensive hotels loaded with amenities we were not going to use. All we needed was a changing area, access to the sea, and a fresh water shower. It was just about dusk. The air was a balmy high 70s – a perfect soft breeze wafted as the sun set and a peaceful feeling settled. We changed into our bathing suits and walked down the soft sand to the shoreline. Along the way, we passed small groups of people sitting in plastic beach chairs, some picnicking, one or two gathered around a small fire. Almost all of the women were fully dressed, with heads covered. A few teenagers wore western bathing suits. As the sky darkened, we could see the lights begin twinkling on the Israeli side of the Dead Sea. For the newspaper prop required for the float, we removed from our travelling “evidence” book the Hong Kong Sunday paper we had collected during the first leg of our trip.
We did two more things – both mandatory food scavenges -- before returning to the hotel for the 10:30 curfew. We found and ate mansaf, a meat dish in a delicious soupy yogurt sauce, with rice. The absolute highlight was kunafa – a sweet dessert served hot. It is a base of melted cheese with a hard caramel topping. Our taxi driver took us to Habibah, which he said is the best place to eat kunafa. It was 9:30 at night and the store was packed with male customers, buying up kunafa. It is served out of round pans that look like pizza pans. The store is a beautiful chandeliered upscale place, with abundances of decorative pastries stacked in intricate designs. But, the main event is the kunafa. All the attention and bustle focused on the kunafa counter. It was like an elegant pizza-by-the-slice emporium. We took our servings outside and became instant kunafa lovers.
As we sat in Moussa’s cab and strategized, Moussa whisked us right to Jerash, to see the Roman ruins. We had three things to do (walk the Oval Plaza and the Triumphant Arch, and pay respects at the Temple of Artemis). Unfortunately, in our haste to get going, we failed to realize that one of the scavenges was supposed to be done at Jerash – to play out a scene at the Roman Amphitheater by making a video. Oh well. Haste makes waste. No time to go back.
Next was Madaba, a town south of Amman, to see a 19th century world map made of mosaics on the floor of a Greek Orthodox church. We had a mandatory snack at the coffee shop Ayola across the street from the church. It was a delicious chicken sandwich – but then again, things are more delicious when you are starving. To finish the last piece of that scavenge, we had to go to Mount Nebo and take in the view at the top. Our taxi driver raced us up to the gate just in time before they closed for the evening.
We rode down to the Dead Sea to float while reading a newspaper. After a detour to the hotel to get bathing suits, we arrived just as the sun was setting. Not surprisingly, the experience was much like it is on the Israeli side. You take a newspaper and pose for a picture while floating in the salty water. We paid to enter a beach club. We chose an inexpensive one used by locals, rather than trying to navigate the more expensive hotels loaded with amenities we were not going to use. All we needed was a changing area, access to the sea, and a fresh water shower. It was just about dusk. The air was a balmy high 70s – a perfect soft breeze wafted as the sun set and a peaceful feeling settled. We changed into our bathing suits and walked down the soft sand to the shoreline. Along the way, we passed small groups of people sitting in plastic beach chairs, some picnicking, one or two gathered around a small fire. Almost all of the women were fully dressed, with heads covered. A few teenagers wore western bathing suits. As the sky darkened, we could see the lights begin twinkling on the Israeli side of the Dead Sea. For the newspaper prop required for the float, we removed from our travelling “evidence” book the Hong Kong Sunday paper we had collected during the first leg of our trip.
We did two more things – both mandatory food scavenges -- before returning to the hotel for the 10:30 curfew. We found and ate mansaf, a meat dish in a delicious soupy yogurt sauce, with rice. The absolute highlight was kunafa – a sweet dessert served hot. It is a base of melted cheese with a hard caramel topping. Our taxi driver took us to Habibah, which he said is the best place to eat kunafa. It was 9:30 at night and the store was packed with male customers, buying up kunafa. It is served out of round pans that look like pizza pans. The store is a beautiful chandeliered upscale place, with abundances of decorative pastries stacked in intricate designs. But, the main event is the kunafa. All the attention and bustle focused on the kunafa counter. It was like an elegant pizza-by-the-slice emporium. We took our servings outside and became instant kunafa lovers.
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Warm and Fuzzies in Jordan
To enter the Grand Hyatt Hotel in Amman, Jordan, we had to pass our luggage and handbags through the x-ray screening, walk through a metal detector and then submit to a body search by female security guard holding a wand. Every time we come into the hotel, we undergo these procedures. Even if you have to run back in for a sec because you forgot something. These are vestiges of a terrorist's vicious bombing a Jordanian wedding party a few years ago that killed many and seriously damaged the hotel. While driving on the roads, our taxi drivers are frequently stopped by police to have their credentials checked. As one of our scavenges, we had to approach but not try to cross the Allenby/King Hussein Bridge from Jordan to the West Bank. Taking a photo was out of the question. The access was patrolled. We asked a taxi driver if he had ever been to Israel. He said "No. I would love to go, but I refuse to sign a paper where I ask the Israeli government for permission to visit as a tourist, when it is my own country".
But overall, the politics and the strife in the Middle East were a mere footnote to our wonderful experience visiting Jordan.
The country is beautiful and everyone I encountered was friendly, smiley, and helpful. It is a definite virtual hug when someone asks where you are from, you reply "USA" and they respond with a warm grin an emphatic thumbs-up. We even got this response many times from the highway police who stopped our taxis and leaned into the driver's window to see who is in the back seat.
I like this country.
But overall, the politics and the strife in the Middle East were a mere footnote to our wonderful experience visiting Jordan.
The country is beautiful and everyone I encountered was friendly, smiley, and helpful. It is a definite virtual hug when someone asks where you are from, you reply "USA" and they respond with a warm grin an emphatic thumbs-up. We even got this response many times from the highway police who stopped our taxis and leaned into the driver's window to see who is in the back seat.
I like this country.
Saturday, April 24, 2010
Long Haul to Galle – Tsunami Territory
For the last day in Sri Lanka, we have until 4 PM, when this leg ends. Having done most of the little scavenges around the city of Colombo, we did not have enough remaining to do to fill the time if we stayed in Colombo.
The sticky thing is – the other scavenges are far out of town, many hours away. There is a hard stop at 4 PM and we cannot be late. The train schedules are iffy and the roads are crowded. We decided to go to Galle, a roughly 3 and a half hour trip away. Galle is pronounced like “gawl”. Since we are required to take a train one way and since the trains are less reliable than the roads, we decided to train down and get a taxi back. The earliest train we could take is 6:50 AM. We left the hotel at 6:10 and walked to the station. Unlike our previous train rides, this train does not offer first class, which means that you cannot buy tickets in advance. Gauging from the crush of humanity at the train station at 6AM two days ago, we were concerned about being able to push through in time to buy a ticket and get on the train. Mysteriously, the station was all but empty and we breezed through with plenty of time to spare.
We got seats, travelling with the Camels from Dubai again, and the four of us were able to get four seats together. Even though it was second class, it was just fine – padded comfortable seats and not too crowded. We had asked the hotel to pack us breakfast boxes, which we ate on the train in comfort.
The previous day, our second class train ride into Kandy was crowded, standing room only. I stood next to two young women dressed fully in black, with only slits for eyes. One of them even wore black gloves. It was about 95 degrees in the train. They both had beautiful eyes that were made up with cosmetics. The glove-wearer spent much of the train ride chatting on her hot pink cell phone. The other one took an interest in me, and at one point, I got the opportunity to sit down and we chatted. Her English is excellent. She wanted to know where we were going, and offered advice on how much further our trip would be. She tried to be helpful and informative, but was 100% dead wrong. She had her directions and timing mixed up, but we were confident of our navigation, so I just enjoyed the cultural exchange.
The train ride to Galle was interesting and very different than all the other rides we had taken up in the Hill Country. Today was ocean day.
Sri Lanka’s capital city of Colombo is on the Indian Ocean, on the west coast of the country. To travel to Galle, we rode the rails in a southerly direction down the coastline to the bottom of the country. Virtually the whole trip was ocean view. Although we hoped to, we did not get to see the stick fishermen. (Those are the men who hold fishing poles, while standing on stick stilts in the ocean). It was raining; and also we understood that generally, the stick fishermen are further south of Galle.
As we travelled south from Colombo, we got into Tsunami territory. A few times along the way, we saw blue signs posted on the tracks saying “Tsunami Zone. Go to higher ground or inland”. We saw much rubble and suggestions of remaining walls from brick and cement structures that had been demolished by the Tsunami. There was much “rebuilding” of little shacks dotting the coastline. We understood that the Tsunami hit and wiped an entire train off the tracks from the rail line we were riding on. Apparently, it was the worst rail disaster in history. Galle’s new town was severely hit by the Tsunami and many people were killed around the bus station area. But the old fort’s solid walls kept damage to a minimum.
Many people live on the narrow stretch of land between the train tracks and the ocean – often as slender as a football field in length. In other words, many people live steps from the beach. Many of the homes are wooden shacks with roofs made of leaves or corrugated metal. Much of life seems to take place out back of the house, i.e. on the train tracks. We often saw people sitting on the tracks, using them as a bench.
When we arrived in Galle it was teeming, pouring, buckets, big dumps, giant shower of messy, chaotic rain. Not the best of conditions to stroll around the fort area, which is a UNESCO World Heritage Site. The fort was first built in the 1500s by the Portuguese as a military base against the kingdom of Kandy, and was later expanded in the 1600s by the Dutch for shipping, and was the main port in Sri Lanka for more than 200 years, as an important stop for ships travelling between Europe and Asia. Because of our crazy schedule, we had only 55 minutes to visit Galle, before we had to start back on our return trip to Colombo to meet the 4 PM deadline. We found the mandatory sites, photographed them, had a taxi take us back into Colombo and got back with 45 minutes to spare.
Just enough time to squeeze in the scavenge of finding snake charmers. I got a picture of me holding a snake, flanked by snake charmers. The snake started to turn its head back up toward my hand just as the picture was being snapped. I was NOT smiling at that moment.
Next stop: Amman, Jordan.
The sticky thing is – the other scavenges are far out of town, many hours away. There is a hard stop at 4 PM and we cannot be late. The train schedules are iffy and the roads are crowded. We decided to go to Galle, a roughly 3 and a half hour trip away. Galle is pronounced like “gawl”. Since we are required to take a train one way and since the trains are less reliable than the roads, we decided to train down and get a taxi back. The earliest train we could take is 6:50 AM. We left the hotel at 6:10 and walked to the station. Unlike our previous train rides, this train does not offer first class, which means that you cannot buy tickets in advance. Gauging from the crush of humanity at the train station at 6AM two days ago, we were concerned about being able to push through in time to buy a ticket and get on the train. Mysteriously, the station was all but empty and we breezed through with plenty of time to spare.
We got seats, travelling with the Camels from Dubai again, and the four of us were able to get four seats together. Even though it was second class, it was just fine – padded comfortable seats and not too crowded. We had asked the hotel to pack us breakfast boxes, which we ate on the train in comfort.
The previous day, our second class train ride into Kandy was crowded, standing room only. I stood next to two young women dressed fully in black, with only slits for eyes. One of them even wore black gloves. It was about 95 degrees in the train. They both had beautiful eyes that were made up with cosmetics. The glove-wearer spent much of the train ride chatting on her hot pink cell phone. The other one took an interest in me, and at one point, I got the opportunity to sit down and we chatted. Her English is excellent. She wanted to know where we were going, and offered advice on how much further our trip would be. She tried to be helpful and informative, but was 100% dead wrong. She had her directions and timing mixed up, but we were confident of our navigation, so I just enjoyed the cultural exchange.
The train ride to Galle was interesting and very different than all the other rides we had taken up in the Hill Country. Today was ocean day.
Sri Lanka’s capital city of Colombo is on the Indian Ocean, on the west coast of the country. To travel to Galle, we rode the rails in a southerly direction down the coastline to the bottom of the country. Virtually the whole trip was ocean view. Although we hoped to, we did not get to see the stick fishermen. (Those are the men who hold fishing poles, while standing on stick stilts in the ocean). It was raining; and also we understood that generally, the stick fishermen are further south of Galle.
As we travelled south from Colombo, we got into Tsunami territory. A few times along the way, we saw blue signs posted on the tracks saying “Tsunami Zone. Go to higher ground or inland”. We saw much rubble and suggestions of remaining walls from brick and cement structures that had been demolished by the Tsunami. There was much “rebuilding” of little shacks dotting the coastline. We understood that the Tsunami hit and wiped an entire train off the tracks from the rail line we were riding on. Apparently, it was the worst rail disaster in history. Galle’s new town was severely hit by the Tsunami and many people were killed around the bus station area. But the old fort’s solid walls kept damage to a minimum.
Many people live on the narrow stretch of land between the train tracks and the ocean – often as slender as a football field in length. In other words, many people live steps from the beach. Many of the homes are wooden shacks with roofs made of leaves or corrugated metal. Much of life seems to take place out back of the house, i.e. on the train tracks. We often saw people sitting on the tracks, using them as a bench.
When we arrived in Galle it was teeming, pouring, buckets, big dumps, giant shower of messy, chaotic rain. Not the best of conditions to stroll around the fort area, which is a UNESCO World Heritage Site. The fort was first built in the 1500s by the Portuguese as a military base against the kingdom of Kandy, and was later expanded in the 1600s by the Dutch for shipping, and was the main port in Sri Lanka for more than 200 years, as an important stop for ships travelling between Europe and Asia. Because of our crazy schedule, we had only 55 minutes to visit Galle, before we had to start back on our return trip to Colombo to meet the 4 PM deadline. We found the mandatory sites, photographed them, had a taxi take us back into Colombo and got back with 45 minutes to spare.
Just enough time to squeeze in the scavenge of finding snake charmers. I got a picture of me holding a snake, flanked by snake charmers. The snake started to turn its head back up toward my hand just as the picture was being snapped. I was NOT smiling at that moment.
Next stop: Amman, Jordan.
Friday, April 23, 2010
Ambling Around the Ancient Cities
We bought a multi-site pass called the Cultural Triangle Pass. We burned a hole in it (got our money's worth big time). In one day, we visited Anuradhapura, Minhitale, Polonnaruwa, and arrived in Sigiriya by nightfall.
But first -- the train. For many of the sites, we had to travel at least one leg by train. The trains run infrequenly. Logical challenges. We travelled with the Camels team again - Sami and Brian. Great couple and it was very helpful to have four of us on the lookout for things. Great teamwork. Besides, it's fun.
We covered a lot of territory and did an awful lot of walking around. Did I mention it's very hot and sticky and we are in the jungle?
Anuradhapura became a capital city in 380 BC. For me, the highlight was the sacred bodhi tree which is the oldest historically authenticated tree in the world. It has been tended by guardians for over 2000 years.
Polonnaruwa is a large, sprawling complex. When it feels like the temperature is over one hundred degrees, it is pretty hard to get excited about getting baked among temple ruins. Nevertheless, we carried on. We saw a former home of the sacred tooth. (More on that later - We saw the current home of the sacred tooth the following day). A top sight in Polonnaruwa was the gal pota, an inscribed stone tablet like an early book. It is the largest stone inscription ever discovered.
Parts of the ciry's ancient irrigation system are still in use to draw water from the lake and irrigate the rice paddies.
We pressed onward to Sigariya and checked in to a hotel with a perfect view of the giant rock we planned to climb in the morning.
But first -- the train. For many of the sites, we had to travel at least one leg by train. The trains run infrequenly. Logical challenges. We travelled with the Camels team again - Sami and Brian. Great couple and it was very helpful to have four of us on the lookout for things. Great teamwork. Besides, it's fun.
We covered a lot of territory and did an awful lot of walking around. Did I mention it's very hot and sticky and we are in the jungle?
Anuradhapura became a capital city in 380 BC. For me, the highlight was the sacred bodhi tree which is the oldest historically authenticated tree in the world. It has been tended by guardians for over 2000 years.
Polonnaruwa is a large, sprawling complex. When it feels like the temperature is over one hundred degrees, it is pretty hard to get excited about getting baked among temple ruins. Nevertheless, we carried on. We saw a former home of the sacred tooth. (More on that later - We saw the current home of the sacred tooth the following day). A top sight in Polonnaruwa was the gal pota, an inscribed stone tablet like an early book. It is the largest stone inscription ever discovered.
Parts of the ciry's ancient irrigation system are still in use to draw water from the lake and irrigate the rice paddies.
We pressed onward to Sigariya and checked in to a hotel with a perfect view of the giant rock we planned to climb in the morning.
Elephant Dung Notepaper
We visited the government-run Pinnewala Elephant Orphange near Kandy in the Hill Country in the center of the country. We were very pressed for time to catch a train so we only had about 20 minutes to visit. We would have loved to have stayed longer. From the entrance, we climbed a dusty brown rounded hill into the property. Just over the crest, dozens of elephants came into view. They were standing around in small groups, looking like they were at a cocktail party. A mahout, or trainer, motioned us to approach and let us pet and pose with the elephants. The orphanage rescues elephants. Some have been mutilated by having their tusks removed. One elephant is seventy years old and blind. About 90 elephants live there. Since the orphanage was founded, about 49 baby elephants have been born there. We later read in the Lonely Planet guidebook that some people criticize the orphanage for allowing too much human contact and for breeding them.
The orphanage produces paper out of elephant dung, which they fashion into notepaper and stationery for sale in the gift shop. As one might imagine, the paper is thick and fibrous. All those reedy plants in the elephant's diet make for a pulpy paper. We did our bit for Earth Day by buying some luxury dung products.
The orphanage produces paper out of elephant dung, which they fashion into notepaper and stationery for sale in the gift shop. As one might imagine, the paper is thick and fibrous. All those reedy plants in the elephant's diet make for a pulpy paper. We did our bit for Earth Day by buying some luxury dung products.
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