Unawatuna 1

Breakfast was omlette and toast instead of hoppers. Flies again, getting annoying. As I was leaving, the son, who had been the "customer service rep", asked me if I could give him an Australian money bill; he had a collection of various currencies from guests. It seemed that I was the first Australian to patronise their guesthouse. Unfortunately the smallest note I had was $20 and this was too valuable. I didn't have any coins either, having dumped them into the charity box at the airport.

I took a tuk-tuk to the station to stay dry. Hopped onto the Matara bus. A monk wanted my window seat, just behind the driver. I didn't understand what he was saying but the conductor helped me find another place. Later elsewhere I saw signs indicating that the forward seat on the right in buses and train carriages is reserved for clergy.

At Matara bus station I was tempted to buy a short eat or two but seeing the flies inside the display case, gave up that idea. I settled for a bottle of water and an ice cream cone from a small supermarket. Another bus took me to Unawatuna, about 5 km outside Galle. I missed the closest stop and had to walk back about 200m. What look like lanes on maps are usually more like alleyways.

I got upgraded to a balcony room for free at Bedspace. Very glad to have a shower. I came down to lunch and ate a yummy Pad Thai. A welcome cocktail was also provided. David, co-owner of Bedspace, with keen assistants and trainees, cooks up delicious dishes. A quibble, I thought the shallots should have been sliced finer.

After a cool nap I went for a late afternoon walk on the beach, which is about 10 minutes by foot. The surf was strong at the eastern end, which is a delight for surfers but most bathers went to the calmer western end.

Facing the beach are many guesthouses, eateries and shops.

Beach dog heaven.

Strong waves.

These beach dogs looked healthy, if small.

Not adverse to getting a bit wet.

These however are the good looking ones. There are charities that treat, vaccinate and sterilise street dogs to stem the overpopulation, and spread of rabies, similar to efforts in other countries like Thailand.

These tables get busy in the evenings.

You can see that the sand dips sharply away from the shore.

A beach game.

View from the western end, and approaching beach belles.

Excursion boat.

Always in search of warm weather.

This was a practice I saw but didn't want to contribute to, wild animals for pictures.

With the help of GPS, I located Marco Ristorante Italiano in a back lane, which served up a good thin crust pizza. A welcome change from rice with curry.

Went to bed early again. I never really adjusted to the Sri Lankan timezone because I wasn't interested in nightlife and it suited me to wake early before the day got hot. That allowed me to realign with Sydney time easily after the trip.

Tangalle 2 - PM

After a shower (I took lots of those) and a nap I walked into town in search of lunch, to look at the market, and to get cash from an ATM. The market was a modest affair, selling produce, household goods and clothes.

Bananas were plentiful, of course. The varieties here are smaller than the Cavendish I'm used to but likely fresher because not transported long distances.

Cempedak can also be seen in a corner of this shot.

Papayas are also common. The most common fruit drinks were papaya, pineapple and mango.

A selection of colourful clothing.

The main street of Tangalle, a modest affair.

None of the ATMs I tried could dispense cash. Impossible to decipher from the messages what was wrong: communications error, card not accepted, insufficient cash, or any of many explanations.

I didn't have luck finding a decent place for lunch, and eventually settled on a bar-restaurant near the guesthouse. The fish curry was watery and had few pieces. Only the papadums saved the meal from being tasteless. Maybe the cook was a stand-in in the slow season.

In the evening I decided to dine at Cactus Lounge, inspite of it being a couple of km outside town. If walking back was too strenuous, I could always hail a tuk-tuk. The "lounge" was a modest affair, just 5 tables and a rudimentary kitchen near a beach. But the grilled prawns, salad and shoestring fries were quite good, though the sauce was on the salty side. This went down well with lime juice.

I ended up walking all the way back in the dark, aided by my smartphone torch. As a reward, I found an ATM, again of Commercial Bank, that dispensed cash. I also stopped at the supermarket again and bought a soursop and a couple of small mangoes. I saw a familiar brand, Kandos chocolate, that was once sold in Malaysia. I wondered how they could run a chocolate factory in a tropical country, you need a cool climate so the chocolate can easily solidify without refrigeration. The history on their website showed that they were founded in Kandy, in hill country. That explained it. The letters dos in the name are the initials of the founders.

Tangalle 2 - morning

I didn't remember anything about my dream except that it was sad. I perused all the mental images I could recall and it was no particular one, just general sadness. Perhaps it was triggered by an email that an acquaintance's father was ill. I must press on with my goals, because later in life I won't be thinking: I should have watched more TV.

Breakfast consisted of hoppers prepared by the mother, two with egg, the rest plain. Both savoury (sambol) and sweet (jam) condiments were provided. There were also fruits. It was a filling breakfast, the only annoyance being the flies, another product of the rubbish. The father positioned a fan to scatter the flies and cool me.

I went for a walk along Vijaya, the coast road. This was lined with holiday guesthouses, with tables and chairs near the beach. The beach is pretty but the surf is rough.

There is still fishing activity here.

As I said, you'll have a good life if you come back as a Sri Lankan beach dog.

Golden sand.

I turned back when I reached a lagoon, it looked like more of the same scenery ahead. I seem to remember reading that birdwatchers come here.

The cheaper Sri Lankan alternative to pizza.

I walked back and headed the other direction past the junction with Medaketiya Road where I had come from town and eventually reached the canal running through town. I wanted a cool beer by now. I asked at one guesthouse but they had only ginger beer.

So I went back to a mid-sized hotel I had passed where renovations for the next season were being carried out. Lion Beer is the most common brand. In fact none of the imported beers on the menu were available due to the season winding down. The bottle size of 625 ml is larger than usual and is more than a pint. So I took my time with it, enjoying the shade and the breeze, sorely needed in the hot and humid weather.

While I was absorbing the beer, bits of coconut litter fell on the table. It turned out that a worker was adjusting the toddy collection pots up the tree. A bit ill-mannered of him to be doing this with a guest underneath. The small operators in the Sri Lankan hospitality industry were like that, apt to faux pas. They'd have to improve. A recent documentary on ABC TV had reported that international operators were entering the hospitality market but only 20% of the earnings were returned to Sri Lankans.

Tangalle 1

In the evening I walked the 500m or so to town for dinner and to shop at a supermarket. The latter was easier, I found the shampoo I wanted, as well as bananas and manioc (cassava, tapioca) chips.

I couldn't find a suitable place for dinner in town. A hotel (actually a restaurant, remember) had a Sinhala menu. There was a hopper shop, but I would be getting those for breakfast. Eventually I went to a homestay opposite with a menu on display. The owner had greeted me on my way to my booking, hoping that I was looking for a place. I was served in an upstairs dining area with open views. Not much to see at night. No other diners. Probably had been busier in season. The prawns with rice was fine, though slow to arrive because they weren't expecting customers.

Then it was back to my lodgings to sample the bananas and the chips.

Galle to Tangalle

The bus station was a busy place with people going places and merchants and hawkers doing business. I had been told that to get to Tangalle. I needed to change buses in Matara, a large regional centre.

The bus quickly filled up. I took the seat near the door because it allowed to put my backpack in front of me. No luggage storage underneath. The bus roared onto the road, overtaking even when motorcycles and tuk-tuks were coming the other way, like a homicidal maniac, tooting the horn furiously. Lesser vehicles just had to swerve out of the way. But the bus deferred to trucks. Size mattered.

But for some reason the bus slowed after leaving the outskirts of Galle. It often stopped, or rather slowed down, for passengers, who were evidently used to alighting from or boarding a moving bus.

At Matara I took a few pictures of the coast before boarding an onward bus.

Progress was painfully slow and I got a good view of rural life in Sri Lanka. I finally reached Tangalle about 3 hours later for a road distance of about 80 km. The GPS on my phone was very useful for locating the guesthouse. It was a one-storey affair, and fortunately my room was air-conditioned. Comments on the Internet said the fan only room was unbearable. I was the only guest that night. I was glad to take a shower before drinking the fresh coconut they had presented me.

Morning in Galle

Charming though staying in an old fort may be, I didn't think Galle merited more than a day, so I had only the morning before moving on. I woke before sunrise, as expected, backed up the photos in my camera to my tablet, and wrote in the diary to pass the time until breakfast. For some reason, a Sri Lankan breakfast wasn't available that day, maybe the cook was on leave. This was the first inkling that I had arrived in the shoulder season. So I took the Continental breakfast. The pattern for western breakfasts, repeated throughout Sri Lanka was: toast or pancakes, butter, jam, tea or coffee and fresh fruit. The plunger coffee was passable but of course not barista. The fruits were papaya, pineapple, and banana, with a slice of lime.

I went for a clockwise walk on the fort wall. From there one can see the coastline, as the fort is on a peninsula. Notice the strong surf. Except for the northwest quadrant of the avocado shaped island which faces India, the coast is exposed to the open Indian Ocean and there is no land to the south before Antarctica.

The most common bird in Sri Lanka is the crow, no doubt because of the rubbish that is openly dumped all over. Dogs looked healthy if small and thin probably because they get fed by the Buddhist Sri Lankans. If you want a good life, come back as a beach dog in Sri Lanka. There's nothing for them to do but laze around all day.

But I also sighted less common bird species.

Couples were having appointments on the wall. The shade of choice for Sri Lankan ladies is the umbrella. At the northern wall I could look back on the modern town of Galle, not of much interest to visitors, except for the bus and train stations. There was some kind of circus or rally happening on the green.

I passed a party dressed in traditional Sri Lankan garb. It seemed be a wedding party photo shoot.

A bit further on, a man with a cobra in a basket tried to interest me in paying to take photos of them. I declined.

This is a tuk-tuk, a Sri Lankan taxi, really a 3-wheeled scooter. This one must have been the pride of its owner because it was shiny. A driver later told me most were made in India. Except in Colombo where some have meters, the fare is negotiated. Fares aren't exorbitant; short rides start at 100 LKR. Despite bargaining, as recommended, I always felt that I had paid more than locals. But I didn't bargain hard. What is a dollar or two for me might be a meal for them.

The beach at the eastern side of the peninsula.

The lighthouse at the southern edge.

A restaurant which probably served Chinese tourists and other foreigners wanting a change from standard fare. A lot of Sri Lankan restaurants claimed to offer Chinese or Asian dishes, usually vaguely Thai due to the proximity with South East Asia. I wasn't game to try, to avoid disappointment.

Sri Lankans swimming in an area slightly protected from waves by reefs.

At the tip, looking back on the town and the lighthouse.

Another guesthouse, on Rampart Street, like mine.

The western path.

Strong waves crashing on rock outcrops.

Rewarding myself for hard work with a gelato. The quality was quite good.

I showered and checked out. I met the German co-owner of the guesthouse. She was planning to take a trip home as the high season was winding down. The guesthouse arranged a run to the bus station in a tuk-tuk for me. And that was the end of my stay in Galle.