Against everything we've learnt and against our instincts we travelled by train to Nuwara Eliya in second class. The issue here was not that we weren't in first class but the fact that we weren't in third. First is full of wanks, second full of nervous, needy "travellers" and third is locals.
At least in third the locals are used to being in confined spaces and work together accordingly. In second, everyone is used to having one seat for their bag and another for themselves and expect a level of service and space in line with a $160 ticket, not a $1.60 one. After a couple of hours of standing we finally secured the open doorway and everything was good, away from the adventurers.
The first morning in Nuwara Eliya we were out the door by 5am headed for Horton Plains, an undulating plateau 2000m above sea level that's covered in wild grasses and patches of thick forest including the mystique inducing 'cloud forest'.
An overzealous driver and husband meant we were the first on the trail and we had a few minutes of the main event's precursor - Mini World's End - to ourselves.
It also meant we had the main event to ourselves - Greater World's End - where we managed to find a track leading away from the main platform and could take in the spectacular vistas unencumbered by tourists whose soul intent was to take away from the peace and serenity of the place. The sheer 880m drop off forced more than one, "Please be careful."
The trek continued with a stop by Baker's Waterfall and wildlife sightings that included samba deer, yellow eared bulbul, three red-backed woodpeckers and a mongoose. A v productive morning.
The following day's adventure was a trip to Pedro Tea Estate packed so tightly into a bus that sardines would have scoffed. The ticket collector played human tetris at each stop directing where people should squeeze in to. I spent most of the journey with a breast pressed against my face.
We did a quick tour of the working tea factory decked out in groovy hair nets and aprons.
At least this time we could sneak a quick whiff of the dried tea leaves. And again, you know it, we finished with a cup of tea.
After that fan-tea-stic tour we went for a stroll through the tea fields ending up at Lovers' Leap waterfall.
It was then time to get back in the sardine can.
The food entry for this post is not so much a what but a how. We've fumbled our way through eating with our hands in countries like Morocco and Laos but Sri Lanka has upped the ante. The various Sri Lankan rices we've encountered have been light and fluffy and beautiful but exhibit no ability to bind like couscous or sticky rice. Chuck a couple of wet curries on top and eating with your hands becomes an exercise in shovelling and hoping, and covering yourself from fingertips to elbows.
After our first pathetic attempt and thinking surely we must be doing it wrong we went home and Googled it which offered hardly any assistance other than a few 'rules'. So next time we just kept an eye on other people eating and gladly discovered that whilst those rules are loosely followed, covering your hands and face in curry and rice are just how it's done. To show you an illustrated example of the shovelling act in full force I'd taken a selection of flattering photos of Nix. I was however strongly advised not to show those photos and to only show this one. You get the point...
At least in third the locals are used to being in confined spaces and work together accordingly. In second, everyone is used to having one seat for their bag and another for themselves and expect a level of service and space in line with a $160 ticket, not a $1.60 one. After a couple of hours of standing we finally secured the open doorway and everything was good, away from the adventurers.
The first morning in Nuwara Eliya we were out the door by 5am headed for Horton Plains, an undulating plateau 2000m above sea level that's covered in wild grasses and patches of thick forest including the mystique inducing 'cloud forest'.
An overzealous driver and husband meant we were the first on the trail and we had a few minutes of the main event's precursor - Mini World's End - to ourselves.
It also meant we had the main event to ourselves - Greater World's End - where we managed to find a track leading away from the main platform and could take in the spectacular vistas unencumbered by tourists whose soul intent was to take away from the peace and serenity of the place. The sheer 880m drop off forced more than one, "Please be careful."
The trek continued with a stop by Baker's Waterfall and wildlife sightings that included samba deer, yellow eared bulbul, three red-backed woodpeckers and a mongoose. A v productive morning.
The following day's adventure was a trip to Pedro Tea Estate packed so tightly into a bus that sardines would have scoffed. The ticket collector played human tetris at each stop directing where people should squeeze in to. I spent most of the journey with a breast pressed against my face.
We did a quick tour of the working tea factory decked out in groovy hair nets and aprons.
At least this time we could sneak a quick whiff of the dried tea leaves. And again, you know it, we finished with a cup of tea.
After that fan-tea-stic tour we went for a stroll through the tea fields ending up at Lovers' Leap waterfall.
It was then time to get back in the sardine can.
The food entry for this post is not so much a what but a how. We've fumbled our way through eating with our hands in countries like Morocco and Laos but Sri Lanka has upped the ante. The various Sri Lankan rices we've encountered have been light and fluffy and beautiful but exhibit no ability to bind like couscous or sticky rice. Chuck a couple of wet curries on top and eating with your hands becomes an exercise in shovelling and hoping, and covering yourself from fingertips to elbows.
After our first pathetic attempt and thinking surely we must be doing it wrong we went home and Googled it which offered hardly any assistance other than a few 'rules'. So next time we just kept an eye on other people eating and gladly discovered that whilst those rules are loosely followed, covering your hands and face in curry and rice are just how it's done. To show you an illustrated example of the shovelling act in full force I'd taken a selection of flattering photos of Nix. I was however strongly advised not to show those photos and to only show this one. You get the point...
