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Courtesy of the time difference our body clocks were well awake by 630 and we re-packed our kit so as to take Gerry up on his kind offer of leaving some baggage with him. After an awesome garden breakfast of fresh fruit salad, scrambled egg on toast, followed by waffles and icecream, we loaded up our TukTuk and headed for the bus stop.
Our driver waited with us on the side of the road, apparently the 'bus stop', and having seen half a dozen battlebuses crammed with sweating locals thunder past the gaudy blue relic which we would be catching screeched to a stop. With much shouting, honking and gesticulating Bob was thrust into the melee through the back door and having been forced to leave our bag in the boot I headed to the front door where I could at least see the bottom step to get aboard. As the bus moved off I was grabbed by countless arms and unceremoniously hauled into a very full on environment.
It was chaos, my ears were instantly assaulted by loud pulsing music as I was squashed in amongst the other passengers. We were all in contact with each other, fighting for floor space, which was actually a blessing as we were thrown around as the bus accelerated, braked and swerved along the potholed tarmac. The airhorns were in almost constant action, deafening the front half of the bus with every blast, and the smell of spices almost overwhelmed the more organic human assault on my senses. Talking to Bob afterwards she had no idea whether I had even made it onboard, such was her cosy situation at the back, but from my vantage point next to the gearstick I could see the occasional flash of blonde hair, confirming that we were both on our way to Anuradhapura.
The fare for our 4 hour trip was £1.20 each (the same as Worcester to Knightwick on the 420...) and after half an hour I managed to work my way down the packed Isle to reach a somewhat exasperated looking Bob who was unable to move an inch in any direction. The heat was insufferable when the bus stopped to cram more passengers on and the view from our standing position consisted only of countless faces in different portrayals of silent inquisition, uncomfortable sleep and general sufferance. The world flew by and despite the discomfort, the experience was exactly what I had been looking forward to. An hour or so later, having made friends with the busy conductor, Bob grabbed the opportunity of a seat and from her new vantage point she could spot road signs passing in front of the beautifully lush coastal countryside as we sped North towards Puttlam.
We pulled in for a comfort break at Saliyawewa junction where I got some cold cokes from a street stall. As I passed Bob's through the window to her I noticed the writing on the bus calling our journey a 'Semi luxury service!' Ha ha ha! Soon we were back underway but thankfully the crowds had thinned a little so for the first time there was no actual physical contact between me and my neighbours, and Bob no longer had random body parts being thrust into her personal space. I managed to 'accidentally' disable the large speaker which was pounding my ears with Bollywood classics and for half an hour the ride really was quite semi-luxurious. The inquisitive locals were all looking out for us, smiling and nodding each time we made eye contact and they were very insistent that I should stay next to Bob even if it meant they ended up down the bus deeper in the throng. The famous Sti Lankan hospitality was very much in place and most certainly extended to frazzled looking westerners on buses wherever possible.
It only took a few stops and we were back to playing sardines again, with a new collection of locals and a fresh set of fragrances. After a journey time of over 4 hours Bob spotted a sign saying we were in Anuradhapura and our conductor friend, made sure we got off, retrieving our bags from their various hiding places.
We were dropped in the centre of the oily hubbub of the bus yard, surrounded by noise and people. We located a tuk tuk driver who knew where our hotel was and piled in, heading out of the chaos and into the calm of the surrounding coconut palms.
Our hotel was blissfully clean and cool after the tiring journey but having freshened up we headed out on pedal bikes to see the historic temples of the old town. Pedalling was hard work on the single speed sit-up-and-begs and the humidity left me beaded in sweat after only 100m. Fortunately the air movement created by forward motion was suitably reviving so a balance had to be struck! We dodged mopeds, tuktuks, goats, dogs, children and buses, as we weaved our way across town and out into the rolling paddy fields beyond. We stopped at several landmarks, from ancient rock formations, to a temple surrounding a 2000 year old tree and the reduction in speed at each stop induced unpleasant volumes of perspiration. We removed our shoes to enter the temples, though it was quite a challenge to remain respectful whilst hopping across the hot sand, as your feet felt like they were about to ignite. The monkeys just watched smuggly from their trees. We stopped at a little shack for an impressively cold coke (out of a glass bottle) and savoured the taste in front of a calm Lilly pond before starting the 3km slog home. We picked up some fruit for a late lunch and did some more planning of the rest of our Sri Lankan trip in the sanctuary of our hotel room and balcony before heading back into town for supper.
Our TukTuk driver took a while to work out where Tripadvisor had suggested we eat but soon we were whizzing along the dark roads, watching the lights of other vehicles flying past, startlingly close and at dazzling speeds.
Mango mango, #4 top restaurant in Anuradhapura, was busy and looked 'safe'. The waiter brought us a selection of menus, an attempt at a smile and somewhat oddly, plates emblazoned with the names of several other restaurants. Keen to embrace the Sri Lankan cuisine, instead of the Mongolian offerings, it turned out that the menu was purely decorative and most of our first choices were met with a shake of the head. The resultant snap decisions of aloo bhindi, eggplant curry and fried rice tasted incredible but we did see the other dishes we'd tried to order heading out to other tables...For the grand sum of £6 we couldn't complain really and left feeling very full indeed, even if our mouths and stomachs were a little scorched.
We enjoyed a pleasant evening stroll most of the way back to town, as all of the passing tuktuks were full, eventually flagging an empty one down and directing the slightly confused driver to within walking distance of our hotel. The room cooled down quickly and following a lovely FaceTime catchup with Elmgrove, who were on top form, we prepared for another bus journey to Trinco the next morning...
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