Ella: Like an English Village - or Maybe Not. Part 10 of Sri Lanka, The Isle of Serendip

Eight years ago today (21-Jan-2015) we were in Sri Lanka. We spent the day in the pleasant village of Ella. The Rough Guide describes Ella as 'like an English village.' I wonder which England the author had in mind.

Scaling Little Adam's Peak, Surveying a Viaduct, and Checking Out the Village

Sri Lanka

When I was young I thought that sleeping under a mosquito net would be very exotic and exciting. The reality has proved rather different, though on this particular night it was Lynne who had the problems, with the net flapping in her face she found the flimsy material becoming strangely claustrophobic.

Breakfast in a small guesthouse was not going to be like a hotel buffet, but the fruit - mango, pineapple, watermelon and banana - that preceded the fried egg was ripe, fresh, local and in every way lovely.

Ravi arrived shortly afterwards. We inquired how his accommodation had been. 'There was no water to wash in this morning,' he replied, then shrugged and added. 'They are poor people in this region, but they do their best.' His words echoed those of the German proprietor of the guesthouse the previous evening.

The Ella Gap

Looking down the Ella Gap at the road we drove up and down to our guesthouse

The main item on the morning’s agenda was the scaling of Little Adam's Peak, soo Ravi drove us back up the road clinging to the side of the Ella Gap and parked at the southern end of the village.

Ella Rock from the top of the Ella gap

The gap is a deep valley, a cleft in the highlands that leads down to the coastal plain. On the western side of the valley, above and behind our guest house was Ella Rock while atop the eastern wall there is a protuberance known as Little Adam's Peak. It is a popular and fairly undemanding climb.

Climbing Little Adam's Peak

Little Adam's Peak, Ella

Adam's Peak itself, some 50km to the west may be only the 4th highest mountain in Sri Lanka but it is certainly the most photogenic. The conical shape of Little Adam’s Peak sitting on the valley wall was, maybe, reminiscent of its much larger namesake.

Southern Sri Lanka
Ella is between Bandarawella and Badulla

Ravi indicated a path leading past a small shop and into the tea plantations. 'The route is obvious,' he said, and indeed with the bulk of the peak rising in front of us way-finding did not look much of a challenge.

Tea Picking

We set off on the level path between the tea bushes. It was a lovely morning; Ella was much warmer than the cool and drizzly Nuwara Eliya but lacked the aggressive heat of the plain.

Through the manicured tea bushes towards Little Adam's Peak

A tea picker with her sack on her back stopped us, suggesting we might like a photograph. We took the photo op, handed over an appropriate tip and continued on our way wondering if she was a tea picker at all, or a professional model of sorts. Rounding a bend we found a gang of pickers working their way through the bushes; our ‘model’ appeared behind us and scuttled down to join them.

Tea picker and part time model, Ella

A little further along, at the base of the protuberance, a set of concrete steps led up the nose of the hill. We thought we should climb them, but some more tea pickers – the next gang along the hillside - shook their heads, indicating that we should continue along the level path.

We followed their advice and after a few hundred meters the path started to zigzag gently up the flank of the hill.

Up to the Summit

The path started to zigzag gently up the flank of the hill
Little Adam's Peak, Ella

It was a steady climb but in no way difficult and in due course we reached a shoulder between two peaks and took a breather before heading for the top.

The shoulder between the two peaks

The views from the summit were impressive.

Looking over the Ella Gap from Little Adam's Peak

Looking towards Ella, Little Adam's Peak

We encountered a group of Spanish girls who asked us to take their photo for them and then took one for us. In the exposed and breezy location the brim of my hat blowing upwards gave the impression that a village in Staffordshire was temporarily lacking its idiot - and now I've put the picture on the internet for all the world to see. Oversharing, or what?

On Little Adam's Peak

We made our way back down to the sheltered saddle, sat down and ate the rambutans we bought yesterday. They were excellent, sweet and juicy.

A good spot for a rambutan break, Little Adam's Peak, Ella

Then we climbed the second, lower peak just for the sake of completeness and started our descent.

The descent, looking down on the hotel which so nearly was swept into the valley in the rainy season

EGB (Elephant Ginger Beer)

Back on the level path through the tea bushes we noticed a sign to a hotel pointing along another path. The climb had been thirsty work, so we took what promised to be a short deviation. Lynne was not impressed when it turned out to be a longer walk than expected and mostly uphill, but she was mollified when we finally arrived and found some clean toilets and a nice deck to sit on with a good view of the hill we had just climbed.

A glass of ginger beer.....

It seemed the moment to try out Sri Lanka's favourite soft drink, EGB - Elephant Ginger Beer. I have always liked ginger beer and as we sat in the warm sunshine, facing the hill we had just climbed, drinking this fine example of a ginger beer we began speculating on whether the it was the British who had given ginger beer to Sri Lanka or the Sri Lankans, who grow ginger in great quantity, who had given it to the British. [It would appear to be a British invention, first brewed in the 17th century in Yorkshire - where ginger grows not at all.]

...and a view back to Little Adam's Peak, Ella

By the time we had finished, made our descent and found Ravi it was time for an early lunch, and had we been in the Far East that is probably what we would have done, but this was Sri Lanka, our routine was by now well established and we would, of course, make another visit and then have a late lunch.

The Demodara Bridge

Unfortunately there is not much to see in Ella once the peak has been climbed. Ravi suggested a tea factory, but it was scarcely twenty four hours since we were at the Pedro Tea Factory in Nuwara Eliya. He mentioned the Nine Arches Bridge though without much enthusiasm, but it sounded good to us, so we set off in the direction of Demodara.

Driving down the small main road we passed gangs of tea pickers carrying their full sacks back to the factory after the morning shift. We were amazed that the company did not have a vehicle doing the rounds to collect them; it would have saved a great deal of time. Ravi observed (again) that these were poor people and their time was cheap. I am no expert, but it seemed to me that continuing with such inefficient and antiquated practices was going to keep these people poor (and is it cynical to wonder if, perhaps, that rather suits the plantation owners.)

We passed tea pickers taking their full sacks back to the factory

We soon turned off into a narrow lane descending into a jungle filled valley. Hitherto Ravi had driven us wherever we went with confidence, but we began to suspect that he had not been here before, and as the tarmac surface disappeared and the road became narrower and rougher he became less and less happy and more and more concerned for his car.

The road became narrower and rougher
The descent to the Demodara Bridge

After much tutting and ooh-ing we reached a small village at the bottom of the valley. Ravi parked in a clearing and co-opted a passing local teenager as guide.

A village house at the bottom of the valley, Demodara Bridge

The lad led us up a steep concrete ramp that Ravi would not have wanted to drive up and then along a narrow path through the bushes. It did not take us long to climb up to the single track railway, a continuation of the line that had brought us into the highlands a few days before.

We walked along the track, passed through a tunnel....

Railway tunnel, Demodara

... and emerged at the Nine Arches Bridge. Almost 200m long it is actually a brick built viaduct that crosses 25m above the valley floor. It looks like many British viaducts, which is hardly surprising as it was built by British engineers in 1921.

Lynne and the Nine Arches Bridge, Demodara

It would have been pleasing to watch a train go over it but our youthful guide told us there were only two trains a day, and neither was due. Nevertheless, we heard a distant whistle so we waited a while, and then a little while longer before realising our new friend was right.

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I start to walk back with Ravi and our young guide

We made the descent, gave him an appropriate recompense for his time and drove back out of the valley, Ravi being much more relaxed on the return journey as he now knew the worst of what was ahead.

The road back looks so much better

Ella

We returned to Ella and the Café Chill where Lynne went for a cheese and tomato sandwich and a portion of chips. I was not much more local in my choice of chicken and noodles, but the noodles arrived with vegetable curry and an apology that they had run out of chicken - such are the hazards of late lunches.

Ella 'High Street'

After eating we took a more lengthy walk round Ella attempting to find some reason why the writer of the Rough Guide had described it as 'like an English village'. We spotted a small restaurant advertising 'fish and chips', but that apart we found little or nothing to justify the comment.

The Ella chippy?

We did, however, see a restaurant called, in English, 'Something Different'; underneath the sign, in large letters, it offered 'Traditional Rice and Curry'. Well, you would not want to be too different.

Ella

That evening, back at the guesthouse, I returned to more normal Sri Lankan fare with devilled chicken while Lynne had chop suey with chillies. After ten days in Sri Lanka we were resigned to the food being pleasant enough but very same-y. Rice and curry is the national dish, but there are only around half a dozen different vegetable curry dishes of which four will be served at any one meal along with a chicken or (always tough) beef curry. Beyond that there are the 'devilled' dishes; chicken, fish or (equally tough) beef in a sauce like a Chinese sweet and sour with added chillies. Lamprais is just a variation on rice and curry, and then there are the ‘Chinese’ dishes, usually with noodles, which make a pleasant change from rice, but would not be recognised in any part of China we have ever visited.

Ella

Our pleasant, if not exactly memorable meal over, we decided to order a glass of arrack. We had already drunk ginger beer today, the country's favourite soft drink and Lion lager, its favourite (only?) beer, so it seemed appropriate to end the day with a glass of the national spirit. Arrack is distilled from palm toddy, looks as brown as a blended whisky and is sold at 32% alcohol. The premium brand we tried seemed to have little flavour and was too weak to have any fire. Perhaps it says more about me (and, indeed Lynne) than it does about arrack but we found it rather tame.

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

Through Bandarawela and on to Ella: Part 9 of Sri Lanka, Isle of Serendip

A Partial Descent from the Chilly Hill Station to Somewhere a Little Warmer

Hindus in the Highlands

Sri Lanka

We left Nuwara Eliya heading for Ella which is only 70km away, though in the mountains the drive would take a couple of hours without stops.

But of course there were stops. The first, after less than fifteen minutes, was at a Hindu temple. There are many such temples around Nuwara Eliya serving the large Tamil population, their forebears mostly imported by the British to work on the tea plantations. Sri Batkha Hanuman Temple lies below the road so we had a good view of the roof which, appropriately for a temple dedicated to Hanuman, was covered in monkeys. The epic allegorical poem The Ramayana, traditionally credited to the poet Valmiki in 5114 BCE, tells of how the demon king Ravana steals Sita, the wife of the Lord Rama, and carries her off to the Isle of Lanka. With the help of Hanuman and his monkey army, Ravana is defeated and Sita and Rama are reunited. Unsurprisingly, Hanuman is a poplar deity among Sri Lankan Hindus.

Monkeys on the Sri Batkha Hanuman Temple, near Nuwara Eliya

Hindu temples are usually brightly coloured but unfortunately only a small part of this one was freshly painted.

Sri Batkha Hanuman Temple, near Nuwara Eliya

From here the road dropped gently and as it did the weather improved. We paused again to look at the view.

Heading South from Nuwara Eliya

Bandarawela: The Mlesna Tea Centre

After another hour we reached the small town of Bandarwela, the first settlement of any size we had encountered. On the outskirts we stopped at the Mlesna Tea Centre. The Mlesna Company, founded in the 1980s, packs a large number of blends and single estate teas and offers a free cup of tea to passing travellers.

As the waiter delivered our free cuppa he asked where we came from. 'England,' I told him. 'London?' he asked, as everyone does. 'No,’ I said, ‘we live between Manchester and Birmingham,' which happily name checks one place everybody has heard of. 'Manchester United!' is the usual riposte in this ritual conversation, but the waiter said, 'When I worked in Cyprus I became friendly with an English family who went home to live in Stafford.' I told him I knew the town well and used to work there. 'They live in Sandon Road,' he said. It is a long residential street I have driven down on several occasions. Small world.

Southern Sri Lanka
We drove southeast from Nuwara Eliya to Bandarawela, then northwest to Ella (unmarked but south of Badulla)

Later we looked round the shop and, like most visitors, spent more than enough to cover the cost of the freebie.

Dowa Cave Temple: An Enormous Key and an Ancient, Unfinished Carving of the Buddha

A little way beyond the town Ravi stopped by the side of the road. 'Dowa Temple,’ he said, ‘with a rock carving of the Buddha.' He pointed to a track dropping into a small ravine.

Following the track we quickly reached a set of concrete steps leading down to a small temple. At the bottom we were met by the smiling guardian wielding a huge key.

Dowa Temple, Bandarawela

He unlocked the door and let us into what turned out to be less of a building and more of a rock temple, a smaller version of those at Dambulla. There were the inevitable statues, reclining Buddhas and paintings on the walls and rock ceilings which were of variable height. The Rough Guide rather snootily comments that the paintings are of no great merit, but I was impressed by their vigour - and their mere existence in this unlikely spot.

Reclining Buddha under the rock ceiling, Dowa Temple, Bandarawela

There was no entrance fee, but a sign requested donations. We offered a couple of hundred rupees which delighted the already cheerful guardian who insisted on photographing us with his key.

Dowa Temple: The Magnificent Key

We had not seen the promised carving, but as we left the guardian pointed us up a rocky slope beside the temple. We had removed our shoes on entry; on the smooth floor it had been no problem, but the ascent of the rough pebble-strewn rock caused some pain. At the top we could see nothing and wondered why we had been sent up there. Disappointed we turned to descend and there was the Buddha, right in front of us.

The cave and the large half-finished carving are traditionally credited to King Walagamba whose reign in 1st century BC Anuradhapura was interrupted by Tamil invasions. He allegedly built the temple whilst hiding out here and was forced to move on before the Buddha could be finished. He is also credited with some of the similar cave temples in Dambulla, but I suspect he was the sort of chap people wanted to connect their cave temples with, regardless of who actually made them. The ancient carving is suffering from the ravages of time and could do with some protection.

Unfinished rock carved Buddha, Dowa Temple, Bandarawela

Rambutans

Our final stop before Ella was at a roadside stall to buy some rambutans, getting eight for our 100 rupees. ‘Two weeks ago,’ Ravi said, ‘they would have given you four, in a couple of weeks, at the height of the season, maybe 20.’ They have a sort of Poundland approach to pricing.

Ella and Lamprais

We reached Ella in time for our by now traditional late lunch. According to the Rough Guide, 'beautiful Ella ...is the closest thing to an English country village you will find in Sri Lanka.' It is a stretch to describe this motley collection of wooden buildings lining a dusty main street as beautiful, though they do have a certain charm. I can't claim to have seen every country village in England, but I have seen a fair few, and I have never seen one looking remotely like Ella. Whether it is beautiful or not, Ella’s surroundings are undeniably lovely and its climate is delightful, much warmer than chilly, drizzly Nuwara Eliya but cooler than the aggressively hot plains.

Ella, just like an English village?

We ate at the Café Chill which, as its name implies, had a largely youthful clientele – backpackers, for want of a better word. A large, rambling wooden shed with a roof but no external walls, it looked rustic and basic at first glance, but on closer inspection it was a much more sophisticated and slick operation than it initially appeared.

We found the only free table and watched the staff, half adozen young men in smart uniforms and tall cardboard hats, do-si-do-ing round each other in the small open kitchen.

Lynne ordered an unadventurous chicken sandwich, while I decided to try lamprais. The word is apparently derived from the Dutch lomprijst, and is almost the only reminder that the Dutch* once ruled the island. According to Google Translate lomprijst means 'boorish rice' suggesting that lamprais is merely a variation on the standard rice and curry, and an uncultured one at that. It is in fact rice and chicken curry with a boiled egg and a slick of dhal, cooked in a folded banana leaf.

The open kitchen allowed us to check the cleanliness of the staff and equipment – they passed with flying colours – but also let us spot the shortcut. One huge lamprais was cooked in a pot and the individual portions were only wrapped in a wilted banana leaf just before serving. The lamprais did not look particularly appetizing when unwrapped, but it smelt good and tasted pleasant enough though it was hardly exciting.

Lamprais, Café Chill, Ella

The Ella Gap

We drove down Ella's main street and turned right at the end. 'There is only the Ravana falls left for today,' Ravi said. I was busy reading the itinerary. 'There's something called the Ella Gap,' I said. Ravi gave me an odd look and stopped the car. I looked up from what I was reading and there was the Ella Gap right in front of me. Below the village the valley drops dramatically and you can see down almost to the coastal plain. I nearly missed it for reading about it.

The Ella Gap

The Ravana Falls

The Ravana Falls were a few minutes’ drive away. Water cascades down some 25m of the valley side in a series of falls, none of them enormous, but the combined effect is impressive. It is difficult to get far enough away for an effective photograph as we were standing on the same steep valley side.

The Ravana Falls, Ella

When Ravana, the demon king in the Ramayana, carried off Sita to the Isle of Lanka he had to keep her somewhere. 400 steps lead up to what is allegedly the very place, but there is nothing there except a small cavern so we did not bother. Ravi clearly though it unimportant and, as no major shrine has developed, I suspect (though without any other evidence) that this is a late (and perhaps tourism driven) addition to the legend. Whether it is or not, several foot soldiers from the Monkey King’s army were patrolling the area looking for scraps of food, particularly in the pull-off where everybody parks. They can be a nuisance, but less so, according to Ravi, than the hawkers. He warned us they can be clingy, but we had no problem. Apart from the usual trinkets they specialise in pretty stones which may, or may not, be unpolished gemstones; a good way of buying a perfectly ordinary pebble at a 'bargain' price, I thought. They have to work hard though, there is a constant turnover of visitors, but few stay long, once you have seen the falls that is all there is.

A few more minutes down the valley brought us to our stop for the night, the Feelin' Good Guesthouse, where Ravi left us and headed off for his own digs. Despite the appalling name it was very pleasant, a light and airy, modern wooden building owned and run by a bluff German and his Sri Lankan wife.

Our room was comfortable though sparsely furnished with no television or air-con, but the mosquito net over the bed suggested the management understood priorities.

Lynne had a nap while I went down and sat on the terrace, working on this blog (I was probably on episode two at the time) and supping a Lion Lager. I had a chat with the owner. The area, he told me, was poor and food prices were high after the wet season, which had been particularly late and severe this year. Crops had been damaged and there had been landslides, one of which had closed the road to Ella for a while. We had already noticed the hotel further up the valley which had avoided being swept into the depths by only a few metres.

Blogging beneath the German flag, Feelin' Good, Ella

We ate in the guesthouse as there was nowhere else we could have reasonably gone. My rice and curry was one of the better of its ilk and although Lynne had a pop at me - 'haven't you eaten enough rice already today?' - I would back the authenticity of my dining experience against her spaghetti Bolognese. It has come a long way from Bologna, that dish, and changed a tad on the way, but she seemed happy with it.

*Except for the massive fort at Galle, which we will get to due course.

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

The Horton Plains, Nuwara Eliya and a Cup of Tea: Part 8 of Sri Lanka, Isle of Serendip

Walking through a Cloud Forest, Exploring Nuwara Eliya and Visiting a Tea Plantation.

25-Jan-2015

From the Hill Club to the Horton Plains

Sri Lanka

Anywhere else in Sri Lanka the cool of the morning is the best part of the day. The air feels fresh and clean, it touches the skin with gentle warmth that may hint at the fire to come, but for that moment holds all the promise of a day new born. It was different at Nurwara Eliya. We stood outside the Hill Club in the pre-dawn darkness, clutching our packed breakfasts and huddling inside the warm clothing we had put away when we got on the plane at Heathrow.

We were not alone. A car came and took the other couple away and a few minutes later a minibus arrived. The driver got out, looked around nervously and saw no one else but us. A few minutes later he was driving us through the still dark streets of Nuwara Eliya and then out of town southwards towards the Horton Plains.

Dawn broke and away to our right we could see the conical summit of Adam's Peak. Lynne suggested we stop and take a picture. I thought it was too far away and anyway we would surely get a better view in the next few days. We took no picture and never saw it again. Adam’s Peak at 2,243m (8,281ft) is only the fourth highest mountain in Sri Lanka, but it is easily the most photogenic. The highest peak Pidurutalagala is an undistinguished lump outside Nuwara Eliya which is close to 2,000m itself.

Onto the Horton Plains

By six thirty we had reached the park entrance and were queuing up to buy tickets. It was now fully light, but misty and still far from warm. After a couple of days without £16 each entrance fees they were back - and with van hire on top it was not a cheap morning out.

Queueing for tickets, Horton Plains National Park

Equipped with a ticket, we drove to the visitor centre and parked. A large Sambar stag hung around the car park, apparently used to humans and relaxed in their company - I presume someone was feeding him.

Sambar stag, Horton Plains National Park

The driver ushered us out of the van. His English was limited and we had not been able to converse, but he had a little speech ready for this situation. 'Easy walk, good path, can't get lost,' he said pointing towards a hut beyond the car park.

We joined a small queue of westerners to have our tickets checked and our time of entry noted - I suppose they did not want to lose anybody.

The Horton Plains have been a National Park since 1988 but were discovered in 1834 by Lts William Fisher and Albert Watson who named it after Sir Robert Wilmot-Horton the Governor of Ceylon. Creeps. Of course they did not really discover the Horton Plains, the locals had known the area for millennia, mining it for gems and iron ore and calling it Maha Eliya Thenna (Great Open Plain). They were not just creeps, they were arrogant creeps. They discovered the Horton Plains like Columbus discovered America - but at least they knew where they were and, unlike Columbus they did not unwittingly presage a semi-intentional genocide of the indigenous inhabitants; the Sinhalese prospered before the British came and are prospering now. But the Sinhalese did not discover the Horton Plains either. The stone tools of the Balangoda people have been found here and they were probably the forebears of the Vedda, the indigenous people of Sri Lanka, of whom some 2,500 survive. They were supplanted (i.e. all but wiped out) when the Sinhalese arrived in 500BC. I do not mention this to excuse Fisher and Watson in particular or British Imperialism in general, but merely to point out that cultural exceptionalism is almost a default position for the human race.

We crossed a stream that was stocked with rainbow trout by the British planters, civil servants and Amy officers who could not do without their angling. Nobody fishes for them now and the intrusive trout are taking their toll on the local ecosystem.

The Red Bridge over a trout stream Horton Plains National Park

A Circuit of the Horton Plains

The path was indeed clear and we soon reached a parting of the ways marked by a boulder painted with arrows and distances. If we turned left we went to Little World's End, Great World End and the Baker Falls, if we went right we visited the same places in reverse order. Lynne’s reading of our itinerary had led her to expect a 4km walk, but the circuit was clearly 9km. She was not a happy bunny. 'Little World's End is only 2km,' I suggested meekly (and a touch disingenuously).'We could just walk there and back.'

The Horton Plains are not quite as flat as the name suggests (though flatter than the Plain of Jars in Laos) but the path was obvious and there were no serious gradients. It was eerily quiet in the morning chill, even the birds had fallen silent.

Across the misty plains, Horton Plains National Park

After a while the open plain gave way to forest. This is cloud forest, characterized by an abundance of mosses. Clouds drift in from the Indian Ocean and the first land they hit is the Horton Plains where they became stuck and give up their moisture to the vegetation.

Into the cloud forest, Horton Plains National Park

Little World's End

The Horton Plains are big, and although there had been many cars in the car park the crowds were easy to lose and we seemed to have the park to ourselves. That impression was shattered when we reached Little World's End where everybody pauses, so there is always a small crowd.

At Little World's End and not stepping backwards, Horton Plains National Park

At the edge of the plateau the land drops away into a valley far below, and then, from the valley’s mouth, right down to the coastal plain. It was too hazy to see the sea 50km away, it is rarely otherwise, but we could make out a lake on the plain some 2000m below.

Looking down from Little World's End, Horton Plains National Park

From Little World's End it is only another kilometre to Greater World's End. I was expecting a discussion (which sounds better than ‘argument’) but after we had peered into Little World's End and taken our photographs, Lynne set off for Great World's End without any prompting.

Great World's End

It was a similar walk, stretches of open plain alternating with cloud forest. The route mainly dropped gently and we sometimes had to clamber down over boulders making the path impassable for wheeled vehicles.

On to Great World's End, Horton Plains National Park
(occasionally the path rose gently!)

It did not take long to reach Great World's End, which looks very similar and a little bigger than its smaller cousin. [Ten days after we returned home a Dutch tourist - a man on his honeymoon - stepped backwards off the deck while taking photographs. He was stopped by a tree fifty metres below, but rescue equipment had to be brought on foot so over three hours passed before he could be restored to level ground, shaken but not too badly hurt. News reports claimed he was the first person ever to survive a fall from World’s End, which might be true but although the descent into the valley looked precipitous it was not, literally, a precipice and any faller would have a good chance of coming to rest at some point from which rescue could be effected. That is my theory - I would not wish to put it to the test.]

The view from Great World's End, Horton Plains National Park

To The Baker Falls

From here it was almost as easy to go on as to go back. The next part of the walk took us across more open plain. It was much warmer now and birds flew above and around us. I wished, not for the first time, that I could name some of the more exotic. We had seen information boards (I felt sorry for the ‘dull blue flycatcher’ which is actually quite pretty) but that did not help with the birds that resembled martins or the ones with red throats and shiny dark blue wings. Above us we heard, but did not see, something that sounded like a skylark, while above that birds of prey wheeled threateningly.

We had lost height walking to the World’s Ends, and the path dropped further across the plain. I was a little concerned that we would finish with a big climb and I would have to listen to Lynne blaming me for it, as she did in Vietnam.

Across the Horton Plains

Eventually we reached the bottom of a wooded hill. The path split, one fork rising steeply up a path of baked and beaten mud veined with tree roots, the other winding round the base of the hill. Unsure which way to go, we tried the flat path which ran for fifty metres before suddenly terminating in a modern toilet block. It looked weirdly out of place hidden in the jungle, but we used it and returned to the split. Here we met the first people going the other way and after comparing times realised we were well over half way round. We cheerfully set off up the hill.

A steep path of beaten mud veined with tree roots, Horton Plains National Park

The Baker Falls were somewhere to our left, but we were not sure which of several paths leading down to the river would give the best view. We reached the top with remarkably little complaining from Lynne and here a short, steep descent was signposted to the falls. Lynne was flagging so I slithered down to take photographs for both of us. More than once I have been disappointed visiting waterfalls in the dry season, but the Baker Falls, while hardly being one of the world's biggest waterfall, did have plenty of water.

The Baker Falls, Horton Plains National Park

From the top of the falls it was a pleasant walk along almost level ground back to our starting point. Lynne had completed the whole circuit with minimum moaning and felt well pleased with herself.

Walking back from the top of the Baker Falls, Horton Plains National Park

Exploring Nuwara Eliya by Car and Foot

The driver took us back to the Hill Club where Ravi was waiting, and he had to wait a little longer as we needed to shower after our exertions. The plan had been to visit a tea factory, but the writer of the itinerary had forgotten it was Sunday, and the factories were closed. Ravi took us for a drive round Nuwara Eliya to see some of the buildings that earned it the name ‘Little London’. They were not really very British, but they were more British than Sri Lankan. After finishing our walk in sunshine, Nuwara Eliya was cold and drizzly so we had no inclination to get out of the car and walk.

British style house, Nuwara Eliya

We lunched in a lakeside café. There was a mixed clientele of locals and tourists and an open kitchen so we could watch our food being prepared. Lynne enjoyed her sea food rice, but my devilled beef was tough – what did I expect, Sri Lankan beef always is. A large multi-generational group of Chinese tourist sat at a long table passing round plastic bags containing condiments, sauces, even side dishes, as they attempted to Sini-fy the Sri Lankan food.

We gave Ravi the afternoon off and he dropped us back at the Hill Club. When the drizzle ceased we set out on foot to explore the town. Officially Nuwara Eliya has 40,000 residents, though it feels like a big village. Half the inhabitants are Sinhalese, the other half divided almost equally between Sri Lankan Tamils - descendants of the Tamil influx in the 2nd century BCE - and Plantation Tamils imported from India by the British to work the tea plantations. Plantation Tamils have a reputation as market gardeners and across the road from the club a man was watering his small field/large garden, of healthy looking vegetables.

The Hill Club, Nawara Eliya

‘Little London’ or not, the town centre is standard Sri Lankan, in looks if not in weather.

Central Nuwara Eliya

At its heart is a busy, occasionally chaotic market.

Market, Nuwara Eliya

The lurid contents of the cake shop were particularly popular.

Cake shop, Nuwara Eliya

Outside the market I liked this line of stone elephants supporting a sort of patio.

Elephants holding up a patio/balcony, Nuwara Eliya

In the evening I donned the Hill Club’s jacket and tie for another of their five course table d'hôte dinners; prawn vol-au-vent, bouillabaisse, roast strip loin of beef and ice cream in puff pastry. ‘Strip loin’ was unfamiliar but is apparently an American steak cut, though this example would have benefitted from long, slow cooking. Roasted it was tougher than Jean-Claude Damme – we should have had the chicken!

26-01-2015

The Pedro Tea Estate

In the morning we checked out, paid a large bill for our memorable dining experiences and, as it was now Monday, took the short but belated trip to the Pedro Tea Estate.

What the well dressed tea watcher is wearing this year
Pedro Estate, Nuwara Eliya

Properly togged up, along with several others, we entered the wilting sheds where the newly picked tea is spread out and gentle heat is applied for several hours.

Wilting room, Pedro Tea Estate, Nuwara Eliya

We moved through to the main factory where photography is strictly forbidden and watched a variety of machines, cut, roll and grade the tea. They were fascinating to watch though it was not always quite clear what they were doing or how they were doing it. The guide proudly told us the tea goes from bush to the wholesale market in Colombo in under 24 hours, but for the workers the hot, dusty conditions were distinctly unpleasant.

We were allowed to photograph the tray of grades of tea from ‘orange pekoe’ - just the bud at the top of the plant - through ‘broken orange pekoe’ and ‘bud and two leaves’ down to ‘fannings’ (also called dust). I had thought ‘English breakfast tea’ was a brand name, but it is actually one of the lower grades of tea.

Graded teas, Pedro Tea Estate, Nuwara Eilya
English Breakfast Tea is second from the left bottom row

We left the factory for the tasting room, where they brewed us a cuppa – none of that messing about with ceremony you get in China. Much of the tea drunk in England is Sri Lankan so it was familiar stuff. Oddly, although the country changed its name to Sri Lanka in 1972, the tea is still sold as Ceylon Tea.

A cup of Tea, Pedro Tea Estate, Nuwara Eliya

We took a walk through the bushes so I could give my expert opinion on the state of the harvest (it looked good) and then set off down towards Ella, still in the highlands but a bit lower and, hopefully, a bit warmer than Nuwara Eliya.

Checking the vintage, Pedro Tea Estate, Nuwara Eliya

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