Sigiriya Rock and Ayurvedic Massage: Part 4 of Sri Lanka, Isle of Serendip

Climbing a 200m High Rock to what was once the Sri Lankan Capital and a Relaxing Massage

Sri Lanka

Morning in the Heritance Hotel

We awoke in our suite in the Heritance Hotel, considered for a moment how pleasant it was to have been upgraded and then looked out the window and saw monkeys - more precisely, Tufted Grey Langurs - swinging in the trees.

Tufted Grey Langur seen from our balcony, Heritance Hotel, Kandalama

The breakfast buffet was comprehensive as befits such a hotel. In the balcony alongside the usual omeletteer was a man making egg hoppers, rice flour pancakes cooked in a small bowl-shaped pan with an egg fried on the flat bottom. You can fill hoppers with whatever takes your fancy, on this occasion coconut sambol and 'Maldive fish', a spicy condiment made from dried and ground tuna.

After breakfast we set off for Sigiriya. We had first caught sight of it yesterday as we drove to Polonnaruwa; we could even see it from the hotel - if we stood in the right place - and as the hotel is a kilometre long there were several right places.

Sigiriya Rock in the misty distance across Kandalama Lake

Sigiriya Rock

Sigiriya is a huge rock some 200m high and we were going to climb it. We drove round Kandalama Lake and the closer we got the more daunting the prospect became. My rock climbing days are over (if one fear-filled afternoon in 1972 can be described as 'days') but even with steps all the way up it looked a stiff climb.

Just a Little History

First used as a refuge by monks during the early days of Sri Lankan Buddhism, the top of the rock became the island’s capital for 18 years in the fifth century AD. What sort of a king builds his palace on a rock? A frightened one, obviously, but also one blessed with organisational skills. To erect an entire palace compound in seven years was good going for the time, but to do that after first hauling all the material to the top of a huge rock was a remarkable feat.

Sri Lanka - Sigiriya is near Polonnaruwa

Although much closer to Polonnaruwa than to Anuradhapura, Sigiriya is part of the Anuradhapura story. King Dhatusena (ruled 455-473) intended his oldest son Mogallana to succeed him. Kapassa, an ambitious younger son of a concubine, rebelled, forcing Mogallana into exile and imprisoning and then killing their father. Even today respect for one's parents runs deep in Sri Lankan society, and fifteen hundred years ago parricide was particularly severely frowned upon. Fearing the wrath of god, his people and, most importantly, Mogallana who had vowed to return and claim his throne, Kapassa opted for safety over convenience and built his palace on top of the biggest rock he could find. In 491, 18 years later, Mogallana eventually got round to honouring his vow and in a fit of bravado Kapassa came down from his rock to meet Mogallana’s army on the flat. Unfortunately his war elephant bolted and his troops, thinking he was fleeing, fell back. Facing certain defeat and capture Kapassa killed himself. There are other versions of the end of this story but the moral is clear: be nice to your dear old dad; he's the only one you will ever have.

Getting to the Bottom of the Rock

The museum and ticket office is a couple of hundred metres from the base of the rock. We paid the usual exorbitant ticket price - £17 each for the third day running - and had a look round the museum which gave an idea of what life here might have been like fifteen hundred years ago. Despite his faults, Kapassa was a capable ruler who not only built palaces on rocks, but also looked after the irrigation system and organised the planting of mango trees, which kept his people fed and regular.

Sigiriya rock across the water garden

We approached the base of the rock through the surrounding wall and across a water-garden where dozens of young men were hanging around offering their assistance as guides and trying to make out they were in some way 'official'. They pick their victims and stick to them like mud. They require determined brushing off which we tried to do as gently as possible but when one of them put his hand in the small of my back and pushed me up a flight of stairs, I was distinctly short with him. That one disappeared quickly enough.

Boulder garden at the base of Sigiriya Rock

A Detour to the Gallery

We climbed a series of well-made stone staircases through the ‘boulder-garden’ to the base of the rock itself and eventually joined a gently graded path across the rock face. Then we encountered a metal spiral staircase. We could have continued on the graded path, but we took the stairs, it apparently offered a quick way of screwing ourselves into the sky.

Spiral staircase, Sigiriya Rock

Twenty metres higher we emerged onto a ledge tucked under a section of overhanging rock. Once Sigiriya’s western face was covered in paintings. Time has taken its toll, but in this sheltered spot a number of frescoes have survived in remarkably good condition. Given the artist’s subject matter, it was ironic that we were there the day after the Sun published its last Page 3 Girl. While welcoming the Sun's long overdue decision, I cannot help observing that a pretty girl flashing an ample bosom never has been (and never will be) short of admirers.

Page Three frescoes, Sigiriya Rock

At the end of the gallery another spiral staircase took us back down to the main path. We had gained no height, as Lynne bitterly observed, but it had been an interesting detour.

From the Mirror Wall to the Foot of the Lion Steps

We were now passing the 'mirror wall', the rock so highly polished that the king could see his face in it. It is now rather disappointing and in places covered in graffiti. Modern graffiti would, no doubt, occasion much tut-tutting and maybe criminal charges, but this is the graffiti of ancient tourists so it is carefully protected. Vandalism and titty-ogling have been human activities since we first walked upright; tourism, it would seem, also has a long and not always glorious history.

The Water Garden from the Mirror Wall

As we gradually climbed across the rock face we encountered what appeared to be a choice of routes. Although most would-be guides ply their trade at the bottom of the hill, there was still one watching us. We paused. He swooped, told us which way to go and suddenly, without wanting to, we had employed a guide.

The Lion Steps, Sigiriya Rock

His indicated route took us up to a large ledge at the northern end of the rock. From here the 'Lion Steps' once led to the top, but apart from the lion’s feet little survives.

The 'final pitch' above the Lion's Feet

The Steps to the Top

Above, the last part of the ascent is by a set of metal steps anchored in the wall. On the way we paused to look at some of the ancient steps hacked into the rock. The Lion Steps may have been fine for a monarch, but the monks and the workers bringing up the building material would have scrambled up these. Kapassa’s building site was not one in which health and safety had a high priority - it was not even a hard hat area.

Ancient steps, Sigiriya Rock

On Top of Sigiriya Rock

The top was once entirely covered by buildings, and their remains vie with the spectacular view to be the main attraction.

Looking south from the Palace Platform, Sigiriya

All that remains of the palace is a square brick platform on the highest part of the summit, but it was clearly a remarkable structure in a remarkable place. Below are the low walls and foundations of the servants' quarters.

The Palace Platform, Sigiriya Rock

Our new guide showed us around diligently, though the labelling was adequate and the King’s Bath was easy to spot – it was full of water. Some water was captured from the monsoon rains; more was pumped up from below probably by use of windmills. Hill forts are not uncommon, Uffington Castle in Oxfordshire and 'British Camp' in the Malverns feature elsewhere in this blog, but the ascents were much easier - no shallow steps hacked into solid rock - and the size and complexity of the buildings bears no comparison.

The King's Bath, Sigiriya Rock

We paused beside the king’s throne. It is not for sitting on, though I suppose it must have been once, what else can you do with a throne? To answer my own question, kneel on it – such, we have learned, is the Burmese way.

A throne 'not for sitting', Sigiriya Rock

The Descent of Sigiriya Rock

The ascent had been hot and sweaty, the descent was a little easier though more painful on the knees. The route was slightly different as, like most tourists we had approached form the west across the water garden, but descended to the southern car park where Ravi would be waiting for us.

Starting the descent, Sigiriya Rock

There is evidence that not all of life was conducted on the top of the rock. A polished flat rock at the base once had a wooden roof and walls and is known as the ‘audience chamber’, though its purpose was probably religious.

'Audience Chamber' at the foor of Sigiriya Rock

We dropped from the royal site through a cleft between two rocks resembling a massive pair of buttocks, known without a shred of irony, as Boulder Arch Number 2.

Lynne plops out through Boulder Arch No 2

Here our unwanted guide left us. He was the first (and only) person in Sri Lanka to request payment in US$. 'Up and down ten dollars,' he said, as though it was the officially recognised fee. I could have pointed out that he did not join us until near the top, that we had never actually asked him to be our guide, indeed we had not wanted or needed a guide at all. On the other hand he was a poor man trying to hustle a living and as a rich man it was my duty to pay for unrequested and unrequired services. Having bargained him down to $6, I paid up with good grace, though his acceptance was a touch grudging.

Ayurvedic Massage

We found Ravi in the car park as arranged and he drove us back, yet again, to Habarana. Lynne, who has an exaggerated respect for time, even by western standards, had been fussing since the top of the rock that I was going to be late for my massage. I took my lead from Ravi who had suggested the time I had booked - he seemed unconcerned. I was eventually over an hour late, but nobody cared.

Lynne had no desire for a massage so she sat in the shade, wrote her diary and drank herbal tea.

Lynne sits in the shade and drinks herbal tea, Habaraba massage centre

I was shown to one of the thatched huts where I removed my clothes, girded myself with a towel and for the next hour a young man rubbed fragrant hot oils into (almost) every inch of my body.

When he finished I had a steam bath. Undergoing the same process in India a few years ago, I had sat in a sealed wooden box with my head protruding and been steamed like a chicken. This time I sat alone in a room like a sauna with leaves draped over the seats. Steam was introduced from above and I was gently stewed with herbs. 'Stay there as long as you can stand it,' was the instruction, but I have a high tolerance for these things and in the end, when the sweat was flowing freely, they came and hoiked me out.

The masseur is coming to rub me all over!

I luxuriated in the feeling of health and well-being, knowing from experience that it does not last long. After the steam bath in India I was shown into a shower cubicle and given some abrasive soap to remove the oils. Here I was thrown a fresh towel and instructed to dry myself and replace my clothes. My feeling of well-being evaporated as I struggled back into a tee shirt still damp with sweat from my earlier exertions.

I re-joined Lynne and was provided with a cup of herbal tea which I found refreshing, though it was now past two and after a long and arduous morning I wanted my lunch.

Ravi drove us to another tourist feeding station. The rice and curry buffet looked tired so we opted for noodles with chicken (Lynne) and pork (me). Such dishes appear in all menus and are usually described as Chinese. There is little of the flavours of China about them, but they are pleasant enough.

Back to the Heritance Hotel

Then it was back through Dambulla, down the lane and along the unpaved road back to the Heritance Hotel. The dirt road offered us glimpses of white throated kingfishers, magnificent (and very common) birds notable not for their white throats but for their fluorescent blue backs.

The minor road from Dambulla

A mongoose waddled across the road in front of us. ‘The snake killer,' said Ravi though it is difficult to imagine these portly, self-satisfied creatures becoming involved in life or death struggles with cobras. Further on, a jungle fowl bustled across the road. They are Sri Lanka's national bird despite being little more than wild hens.

Five-star elegance or ludicrously over-designed glasses?
Heritance Hotel, Kandalama

We reached the hotel in late afternoon and spent the rest of the day in decadent five-star luxury. It was pleasant, but not really like being in Sri Lanka and far too dull to write about.

Sri Lanka, The Isle of Serendip

Part 1: Colombo to Anuradhapura and Mihintale

Part 2: Anuradhapura Ancient and Modern

Part 3: Polonnaruwa and Kandalama, An Ancient City and a Modern Hotel
Part 4: Sigiriya Rock and an Ayurvedic Massage
Part 5: Dambulla and on to Kandy

Part 6: Kandy and Around

Part 7: By Train to Nuwara Eliya
Part 8: The Horton Plains, Nuwara Eliya and a Cup of Tea
Part 9: Through Bandarawela and on to Ella
Part 10: Ella, Little Adam's Peak and the Demodara Bridge
Part 11: The Sinharaja Rainforest
Part 12: Kataragama and the Yala National Park
Part 13: Through Hambantota to Mirissa
Part 14: Galle, Fish and a Fort
Part 15: Colombo, National Day and a Full Moon



Polonnaruwa and Kandalama, an Ancient City and a Modern Hotel: Part 3 of Sri Lanka, Isle of Serendip

After a leisurely breakfast of string hoppers (nests of boiled rice noodles), dhal, coconut sambol and chicken curry we set off on the 80km journey to Polonnaruwa.

Ravi drove us across the northern plain, mostly agricultural land displaying a rich variety of greens, from the luminous light green of the paddy fields to the darker hues of the coconut palms. This year's monsoon had been particularly wet and a little late, so there were large areas of wetlands where we stopped to watch egrets and ibis.

Water Lilies - the egrets and ibis are there somewhere, too
Northern Plain, Sri Lanka

Beyond the straggling village of Habarana we paused for a coconut.  We had become devotees of the ‘coconut break’ in Southern India a few years ago; cheaper, healthier and more hygienic than morning coffee, coconut water is a superbly refreshing drink on a blisteringly hot day. Indian drinking coconuts are large and green, in Sri Lanka they are yellow and outwardly much smaller, though there is at least as much liquid within.



Coconut break near Habarana

Indian coconut sellers have the alarming habit of holding the coconut in one hand and hitting it with a machete held in the other. The more circumspect Sri Lankans usually place the coconut on a tree stump.

The less alarming Sri Lankan way to machete a coconut

Looking across part of the Minneriya National Park we thought we could see one of their many elephants, though using binoculars to tentatively identify something the size of an elephant suggests it was not close. Wild elephants are not confined to the national park and local farmers build tree houses from where they guard their crops at night from bands of marauding elephants.

 

We did not need binoculars to see this domesticated elephant

The artificial lake at Minneriya was created in the third century AD, and the availability of so much water for irrigation was the start of Polonnaruwa's rise to prominence. For six hundred years it was an occasional royal residence of the kings of Anuradhapura. As the expansionist Indian Chola Empire regularly sacked Anuradhapura, Polonnaruwa's greater distance from India, rich agriculture and trading links through the port of Trincomalee made it increasingly important.

The Cholas ruled southern India for a thousand years from around 300BC to 1279. Emperor Raja Raja I invaded Sri Lanka in 993 and sacked Anuradhapura so comprehensively the city was abandoned.  With Polonnaruwa as their capital, the Cholas ruled northern Sri Lanka for 80 years. Vijayabahu I inherited the southern kingdom in 1050 and after a long and ultimately successful campaign to remove the Cholas he ruled a united island from 1070 to his death in 1110.

 

Sri Lanka

Polonnaruwa was the Sri Lankan capital for the next 200 years. During this time there were over a hundred kings, only Vijayabhau, Parakramabahu I (ruled 1153-86) and Nissankamalla (ruled 1187-96) survived long enough to provide any stability and they were responsible for much of the building.

In the late thirteenth century marauding Tamils made it time for the capital to move on again and Polonnaruwa was swallowed up by the jungle until it was dug out again in the mid-twentieth century.

There is little of modern Polonnaruwa, but there is a museum beside an artificial lake, and there we hired an official guide and paid another £16 entrance fee.

The museum has the usual collection of stonework and statues, mainly Buddha images but also a few Hindu gods, including the ever-popular elephant-headed Ganesh. Models of the main buildings were, perhaps, the star exhibits. The palaces once had six or seven storeys, but only the stone-built lower storeys survive. In the models the wooden floors above and the roofs that covered the dagobas have been reconstructed.

The huge site is surrounded by an ancient wall and, directed by our amiable new guide, who spoke excellent English, Ravi drove us through this outer wall to the heavily restored inner wall around the 'Royal Palace Group'.

This is a blog, not a guide book; what follows is not a comprehensive description of this vast site, it is merely a record of what caught our interest.

Parakramabahu I, known as The Great, built the Royal Palace which, according to a 13th century chronicle, had seven storeys and a thousand rooms. The latter figure is undoubtedly an exaggeration, but the number of storeys… who knows? Three storeys survive; there are holes for the beams which supported the upper stories and plenty of evidence of the fire that destroyed them.

The Royal Palace, Polonnaruwa

The nearby Council Chamber also lacks its roof, but the columns on which it stood remain.

Council Chamber, Polonnaruwa

You can cross the moonstones, climb the steps.....

The steps up to the Council Chamber with two moonstones (the carved semi-circular stones on the threshold)
Polonnaruwa

..... and imagine you are waiting to give the king the benefit of your boundless wisdom.

Ready to advise the king, Council Chamber, Polonnaruwa

Another set of steps descends to the Royal bath, which must have been impressive in its time, though now it looks like the bathwater needs changing.

The Royal Baths, Polonnaruwa

A little north of the Palace Group, ‘The Quadrangle’ is the religious heart of Polonnaruwa.

The Vatage, or Circular Image House, is the most notable building with intricately carved moonstones and seated Buddhas marking the cardinal points. It was also built by Parakramabahu, with embellishments by Nissankamalla, who tinkered with a number of buildings and always left an inscription to claim the credit for his work - and everyone else’s.

 

Seated Buddha in the Vatage, the Circular Image House, The Quadrangle, Polonnaruwa

A long-vanished upper storey probably enshrined the Tooth of the Buddha. The sacred relic had been brought from Anuradhapura; its presence (until modern times) defined the island’s capital.

Several other image houses adorn the Quadrangle, including the Atage , built by Vijayabuha and one of Polonnaruwa’s oldest buildings, and the Hatage. Both were probably intended to house the Buddha’s Tooth, any king worth his salt would want their own Temple of the Tooth.

 

The Hatage, The Quadrangle, Polonnaruwa

The Gal Pota, near the Hatage, is a 9m long granite slab densely covered with inscriptions praising Nissankamilla, including a dramatic bigging up of his very modest military expeditions in India. Known as Nissankamilla the Vainglorious, he worked hard to live up to the title. The 25t stone was brought 90km from Mihintale, though there seems nothing special about it that would justify so much effort.
 

Gal Pota, The Quandrangle, Polonnaruwa

In the corner by the Gal Pota is the Satmahal Prasada. It is unlike any temple anywhere else in Sri Lanka and is conjectured to be the work of Cambodian craftsmen, but nobody really knows.
 

Satmahal Prasada

The Lotus Mandapa, also the work of Nissankamilla, faces the Hatage….
 

The Lotus Mandapa, The Quadrangle, Polonnawura

…while in front of it is a statue traditionally believed to be a likeness of Vijayabahu, though it may actually be a Bodhisattva.

Possibly a statue of Vijayabahu I - and possibly not
The Quandrangle, Polonnawura

Ravi drove us a little way north from the Quadrangle and a little off the main drag, to see first the Pabula Vihara - a dagoba reputedly built by one of the wives of Parakramabahu and turned into a strange two-tier hump by restoration work - ….

Pabula Vihara, Polonnaruwa

,,,and then, a little further from the road, the Shiva Devale no 2. A Hindu temple and the oldest surviving structure in Polonnaruwa, it dates from the Chola occupation and is entirely Indian in style.

Shiva Devale No. 2, Polonnaruwa

Back on the main drag we paused by the Rankot Vihara. Built by Nissankamalla, it is, at 55m, the largest dagoba in Sri Lanka outside Anuradhapura.

The Rankot Vihara, Polonnaruwa

Gal Vihara, the Stone Shrine is a little further north and consists of four Buddha statues carved from a single granite outcrop, two seated, one standing and a 14m long reclining Buddha.

Gal Vihara, Polonnawura

The carving, some of the finest in Sri Lanka, is from the time of Parakramabahu. One of the seated Buddha’s is in an iron cage and the whole ensemble is covered by a corrugated iron awning. I appreciate that ancient and delicate carvings need to be protected from the elements, but there must be a less ugly way to do it.



Gal Vihara, Polonnawura

We were flagging, but decided to make one more visit, to the Lotus Pool at the northern end of the city. Apart from its unusual shape there is not a lot to say about it. It was probably used as a ritual bath by those entering the city.

The Lotus Pool, Polonnaruwa

It was now two o'clock, well past the time when this man’s thoughts turn to lunch. We had been in Polonnaruwa for almost three hours and although we had seen most of the major sights, we had by no means seen everything - and I have not described everything we saw. To examine every rock and ruin we would require weeks, not hours, but we had had our fill; it was time to move on.

Ravi drove us back the way we had come. At any moment I expected him to pull into a restaurant forecourt, but he kept on driving. We passed back through Habarana. In October 2006, a hamlet on this next section of road had been the site of the Habarana massacre. A Tamil Tiger suicide bomber blew up an explosive laden truck among a convoy of buses carrying naval personal. Over 100 were killed, including several local civilians, and many more injured.

Eventually Ravi stopped. Concerned that the restaurant should be clean, he was over-fussy about where we ate, though food hygiene standards in Sri Lanka are generally good, certainly much higher than in southern India. Inevitably we ate in a tourist oriented restaurant, but Lion Lager dealt effectively with rehydration and I enjoyed my spicy omelette and Lynne her chicken curry sandwich. Two American girls at a nearby table were eating rice and curry washed down with Coca Cola, a flavour combination my brain refuses to even contemplate.

Ravi had been keen that we should have an Ayurvedic massage and had pointed out the best massage establishment when we passed through Habarana in the morning, and said we would need to book. Lynne was not interested, but I told him  I was happy to revisit the experience - I had an Ayurvedic massage in India in 2010. This conversation had apparently slipped his mind until we were nearing Dambulla, but then he suddenly nipped down a side road that, twenty winding minutes later, brought us back out in Habarana. We called into a complex of thatched huts in a Buddha-strewn garden where I booked a massage for tomorrow and we then set off back towards Dambulla. I suspect he was hoping we would not notice the strange circular route. I did, but I said nothing.

Where to get a massage in Habarana

We reached Dambulla this time, a dusty town we would pass through a few times more. Beyond it we turned along a minor road and, a few kilometres later, down a dirt track. It was hard to believe this was the approach to a five star hotel.

The road to Kandalama

Geoffrey Bawa (1919-2003) was Sri Lanka's pre-eminent architect. Trained in London he was a 'modernist' but modified his approach on returning to Sri Lanka and developed a style which became known as ‘tropical modernism’. He is responsible for, among other buildings, the Sri Lankan parliament, the University of Rahuna and several hotels. His most famous is the Heritance Hotel by Kandalama Lake, and that was where we were headed.

 

The Heritance Hotel, Kandalama

It is difficult to hide a building that is five storeys high and over a kilometre long – it is reputedly the longest hotel in the world, but we were there before we realised it. The Heritance Hotel faces Lake Kandalama with its back to a rocky hillside. The abundant greenery sweeping down the hill also sweeps over the hotel and the building of steel and glass somehow merges into the jungle. Very keen on recycling and energy efficiency the hotel sets out not just to be eco-friendly, but to merge into the eco-system.

 

The Heritance Hotel, Kandalama

A ramp brought us up to the entrance and from reception we were taken through to the pool bar for a welcome drink. Having entered on the lake side I could not quite work out how the pool at the back also overlooked the lake.

 

The Heritance Hotel pool and Kandalama Lake

After our drink we were escorted down to the third floor - the building plays games with your sense of space - and along the corridor to our suite (yes, we had been upgraded!). Sometimes at the back of the building, sometimes at the front, the wide corridor is open at the sides, giving views across the lake or of the vines down the rock face. It was a long walk, reception is in the centre of the building and our room was the last in the wing, and in the evening, we were told, bats occasionally fly down the corridor above you, but we did not see that.

Walking to our room, Heritance Hotel, Kandalama

The suite consisted of sitting room/office, bedroom and a luxurious bathroom, the spa bath with more controls than an airliner’s cockpit. Lynne was disconcerted to find the bathroom had no blinds but as the picture window looked out over only the jungle canopy I could not see that it mattered.

 

The walk to our room
Looking over Kandalama Lake with the faint outline of Sigiriya Rock, our challenge for the next day

We were warned about monkeys on the balcony – always lock up, their little fingers will find a way in otherwise, and when they tap on the glass in the morning do not open the door.

The view from our balcony, Heritance Hotel, Kandalama

The dining room dress code was described as ‘smart casual’. Wearing a sweaty tee-shirt and crumpled trousers – it had been a long hot day – I asked for clarification. The very elegantly dressed young lady looked me up and down with, I thought, justified contempt and then said, ‘as you are,’ which put the emphasis heavily on ‘casual’ rather than ‘smart’.

I was ever so slightly smarter when we went to dinner. I do not generally like hotel buffets, they can so easily turn a dining experience into mere feeding, but I must admit this was a very good one. It was also expensive - by Sri Lankan standards, though perhaps not by five-star hotel standards.

Sri Lanka, The Isle of Serendip

Part 1: Colombo to Anuradhapura and Mihintale

Part 2: Anuradhapura Ancient and Modern

Part 3: Polonnaruwa and Kandalama, An Ancient City and a Modern Hotel

Part 4: Sigiriya Rock and an Ayurvedic Massage
Part 5: Dambulla and on to Kandy 

 Part 6: Kandy and Around

 Part 7: By Train to Nuwara Eliya
Part 8: The Horton Plains, Nuwara Eliya and a Cup of Tea
Part 9: Through Bandarawela and on to Ella
Part 10: Ella, Little Adam's Peak and the Demodara Bridge
Part 11: The Sinharaja Rainforest
Part 12: Kataragama and the Yala National Park
Part 13: Through Hambantota to Mirissa
Part 14: Galle, Fish and a Fort
Part 15: Colombo, National Day and a Full Moon