Travel Stories - Sri Lanka

Early in the morning I prepare myself to do something active again today. I’m going to early otherwise it’s getting too hot and I’m ending up at the beach again. The owner of the house is already busy in his garden when I open the doors. He tells me when I want tot take the bus I have to leave the gate on the frontside and wave busses down. The bus drivers drive like madmen here – even in town - and I walk a bit back to not sit too close to the curve in the road - they just do not see me or too late. A few minutes later a bus stops and I get in. Looking out of the window I see the little island off the coast at "Weligama" where "Paul Bowles" has written his famous book "Spiderhouse". I do see fisherman's poles standing in the water and many fish stalls on the side of the road but no fishermen standing on the poles yet. But near the town "Kogalla" I finally see them and I immediately state that I want to get out. When I walk out of the bus I walk past a gigantic high and long wall behind which is a very expensive hotel. If I come finally to the end of the walls, I turn the corner and walk towards the sea, I'll finally got them! 

It’s clear that two groups of man are fishing and this is not fort he tourist. - this is real! Unbelievable that they tand on a stick of wood in the water with a fishing rod in their hand. And it strikes me that they constantly pull the wire, on which my father would said – “you never going to catch a fish like that”. There seems to be a lot of fishing on "Barracuda", but they also have to be careful when they jump off the stick to walk to the beach - because dolphins sharks often seem to swim in between them as well waiting for some fish to fall of the rod. I am fascinated to see how the boys stand on those poles trying to catch something and they are busy with fishing and occasionally they look at me thinking what that tourist want of them. When I have been standing there for a while I decide to leave them alone and I wave goodbye.

I walk away from the beach and ahead of me is a runway (airstrip) and I read in my guide that it was built in WWII since a Japanese invasion on the island was taken into account. This is still in use and there is a large sign that it is forbidden to take pictures and films. To put this warning in place, there are countless lookout towers and many bunkers have been built. I walk to the village center of "Habaruduwa" although it is not entirely clear where one village ends and the other begins. This road by the way is built by the English because a road in the mountains was too expensive – now it’s parallel to the beachside with many buildings on both sides. A waste of the beach really. Somewhere there should be a turtle farm and suddenly I see it It is still very early – a few minutes before eight o’clock - and I think I'll have to wait a bit longer to go inside. None of that; there is already a lot of activity in the "Sea turtle farm & hatchery" and after paying the entrance I follow the guide inside. 

It is not that big at all; There is a large army cover stretched over a number of containers of water and there is a large sandbox where eggs are buried about 45 centimeters below the surface. Next to it is a water bowl filled with little baby turtles. These are released, tell the man, three days after their birth, and he points out to the sea. In the central part there are larger water bowls and in this you can see bigger turtles. These were mainly stuck in fishing nets and have to come to strength for a moment. I look around for a while, but the tour if you can speak of that is actually over and done. Fifteen minutes later I am actually outside again and even though it was short, it is for a good cause and my real turtle experience I had years ago in Indonesia. On the other side of the street I get some rotti sandwiches and a kind of dough triangle filled with egg and curry at a food stall. It’s time to go back because the sun starts to burn.

Back in "Mirissa" I go first to the internetcafe to catch up. After that I order a cup of tea in a restaurant and I take a good look at the table in front of me; pieces of newspaper as napkin, a big old dirty plastic can with water and there are two rinsed glasses with a puddle of water around it. If you put your elbows on the seam, they stick and there are also big holes in it. After my siesta I walk on the beautiful beach of the village and order a drink at a beach club. Suddenly I am tapped on my shoulder and I see the Italian couple that I also met in "Tangala". They sit down and we agree to meet again in our joint next destination and they show in which hostel they want to stay. When the sun goes down I wander back across the beach and in the evening I will be treated again to a fantastic meal by my host family. We talk a bit more and I buy a number of the lottery from the son who sells them for charity on the island. Then I retire to my room and prepare my bag for tomorrow; plan is to go to Unawatuna - another wonderful paradise in between here and the capital Colombo.