Last week was even more intense in terms of traveling that usually. Last Friday, from Munich to Rome, on Monday to Munich to deliver the presentation of a project. Wednesday flight to Bangalore, and on Friday evening to Colombo (Sri Lanka) and today morning returned to Bangalore. Guess I got a few quite nice pictures from Sri Lanka, yes, also those with the typical beach-sun-palmtree-leave-the-civilization-behind-setting here.
In spite of the travel warning because of the renewed tension between Tamil Tiger rebels (LTTE) and the government which is being spelled out by the German Foreign Service or the Lonely Planet, I decided to undertake the trip as I had only heard the most beautiful stories about the country and a limited personal risk for tourists.
What one realizes when arriving at Bandaranaike International Airport first is military presence which I have never seen anywhere in the world before and which reminded me more of securing positions for a manoeuvre during my military service than providing normal protection for an airport. No wonder: In April of this year, Tamil Tiger rebels bombed the Sri Lanka Air Force base adjoining the international airport. Three Air Force personal were killed and 16 injured when light aircraft dropped two bombs, although no aircraft were damaged.
Following a 30 km drive past many military controlled roadblocks, Friday evening I arrived for one night in the Galadari Hotel (US-$ 70 per night, decent rooms) at the Northern Colombo Fort where security became even tighter. Reason: The area includes the commercial heart of Sri Lanka with high and modern buildings like the World Trade Centre which is considered as a strategic target with strong symbolic importance for a possible attack. Here a picture from my hotel window looking South along Colombo’s shore of the Indian Ocean.
Following a little walk through the High Security Zone on Saturday morning, I strolled over to Fort Train Station to board the train to my destination in the South: Galle. Already entering the train station, the mood changed from the all-present military to what so strongly epitomizes the country’s charme with it’s ever-friendly people, a sense of timelessness between yesterday’s Colonial past of Ceylon and everyday’s life of contemporary Sri Lanka.
As a reasonably experienced traveler, I have developed a quick filter for people who approach me for a talk. The filter goes like this: I am very keen on every conversation which is genuine about whatsoever to get to know a country and its people better, but I am extremely quick at turning people away who are just commencing the talk to add a sales pitch a few sentences further. Hereby, I tend to give people in the first 30 seconds the benefit of the doubt. It happened, waiting on the platform, that a gentleman from Sri Lanka approached me with the typical question where I was from. “Germany”, whereto he replied in very good German “Wirklich? Ich habe 1972 bis 1977 in Deutschland als LKW-Fahrer gearbeitet und gelebt.” (“I lived and worked in Germany as a lorry driver between 1972 and 1977”). I was truly taken aback, especially when Ranjith specified that he had lived in Bavaria as I could make out from his slight dialect.
Hilarious. He remembered all the routes he had driven to Freilassing, Trier, Lugano, indulged in memories of the German football players of that time (“Beckenbauer, Schwarzenbeck, Sepp Maier …”), opening his purse to show me the picture of his biggest idol: Gerd Müller – all this even managed to send me a shiver of nostalgia down the spine. In the train he was enormously hospitable to quickly arrange a seat in the else overcrowded wagon for me and sharing his experience from his years in Germany when he was in his 20s. Where the “girls from North Rhine-Westphalia or Berlin were much easier for getting laid than those from more conservative Bavaria” (I agree).
Getting lost in time and space on this 3 hour ride brought back the feeling of traveling as the movement itself being an end and not only a means to reach a destination. Beautiful views with the Indian Ocean on the right and changing landscapes on the left with lots of lush green forest as the train steadily moved southwards.
From Galle it was just a 10 minutes ride by Tuk-Tuk to Unawatuna where I checked in at the Full Moon Resort (US-$ 11 per night) whose Italian owner, according to the Lonely Planet, became a hero in his home country when he survived the Tsunami 2004 in one of the hardest hit areas of the island. This place exhales everything one can imagine from paradise: simplicity, honesty, authenticity. Here an impression from wandering along the beach:
July in Sri Lanka is off-season due to the monsoon, although I was lucky due to clouds, yet absence of rain. The sea is rough, not suitable for snorkeling or diving at this time of the year, but never mind, on the flipside there is hardly anybody around which adds to the Robinson Crusoe-impression. And those few are doing cool things on the beach like these guys playing cricket, the national sport of the country.
After some delicious dinner with grilled fish for $ 4 and a night of good sleep with the soothing melody of the waves in the background, Ranjith, my Sri Lankan-German friend from the train, picked me up at 9.30 am with his car which he uses as an official tour guide. This was one of the best decisions ever because this guy brings this perfect mix of explaining, letting loose and joking around. If you ever come to Sri Lanka, contact him a few days before under +94 91 22 777 27 for an unforgettable experience.
Heading north, we made a little “giro” through Galle Fort built by the Dutch colonial-masters, headed north to Hikkaduwa famous for its coral reef habitat, spiced by Ranjith’s fondness of the former Bavarian politician Franz-Josef Strauß (“der Deifi”) to reach Colombo for a lunch-break at the picturesque Galle Face Hotel.
Dropping me at the airport in time to catch my flight to Bangalore would have been a perfect end to the trip with my clear intention to come back soon. And then at least for 7 days, especially after my personal impression that personal safety is not really at stake once you left the heavily guarded and strategically important areas. My conclusion which was also bolstered by a risk specialist (former Indian Army officer and man of honour) on a project for one of the world’s Big Five consultancies: “The risk is being at the wrong place at the wrong time. By keeping away from military installments or convois, you can drastically minimize it.”
Altogether, I could have been a perfect stay, if Sri Lankan Air had not screwed up the return flight by overbooking in the first place and then making a bad situation worse by behaving like idiots in the second. But this is matter for another story on this blog this week and should in the nutshell not tarnish the memorable experience of Sri Lanka. And I am coming back for sure – with another air carrier and a Bavarian Weißbier for Ranjith …
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