Having slept with the shutters wide open and only the ancient vertical iron bars between us and the rainforest I woke gently as sunlight began to illuminate our lush surroundings. The white mosquito drapes billowed gently as the cool breeze moved across the bed and the room was filled with the sound of unfamiliar birdsong. Columns of sunlight highlighted the charismatic features of the room and I could not have been more content so having Bob insist we get up for breakfast was a real wrench.

We took breakfast on the veranda; fruit salad, string hoppers and Dahl, and were soon joined by the Aussie couple who were staying. They turned out to work at the embassy in Jakarta and we exchanged stories of where we had, and would like to, travel.

We had conjured up a sneaky game plan for the day ahead and packed up our things before heading to the hotel where we had eaten the night before. At £200 per night it was a little out of our league but as they were empty of guests the concierge welcomed us warmly with an open invitation to use the pool and their huge expanse of pristine deserted beach beyond... Bob was in her element and I have never been so comfortable on the swinging double sun lounger looking out over the immense waves which crashed against the white sand only 15 metres away. A monstrous Komodo dragon walked across our path as we took a stroll up the beach to establish just how perfect our private (free) bay was before returning to fresh pineapple juice and a lunch of delicately tempura'd prawns and veg.

To ensure that Bob did not start to get the idea that we could really afford to stay in these sort of places we left after a huge rain shower darkened the sky and forced us inside. As the sun re-emerged upon our arrival back at the Spice House, I managed to distract her with a pot of tea on the airy veranda and we wiled away the last of the afternoon looking out over the beautiful rainforest and planning our final 24 hours in Sri Lanka.

We had supper on the beach, where our table and its storm lantern, were only a few metres beyond the range of the rushing surf. The playlist consisted of mostly Bob Marley and Jack Johnson and the waiters looked as though they had arrived at work on their surfboards. The owner was a tiny little man who whizzed around being charming and very much wanted everyone to have a good time. Their fresh seafood was laid out and looked fantastic, so I went for a meaty looking seer fish (which looked a lot like a baby yellowfin tuna) and Bob opted for the local signature dish of vegetable rotti.

We ate the excellent food by the light of our candle lantern and with waves crashing in the background it was a fantastic evening. A coconut pancake and a set of banana fritters for desert set us up for the Tuktuk ride home and we retreated inside the mosquito nets to discuss the game plan for the next 36 hours travelling.