I could smell it as soon as I opened my stateroom door this morning. The dark, woody and smokey smell of the ages. An aromatic air that courses down through your nostrils filling your lungs with elephants, spices and life - but not as we know it.
Colombo - Sri Lanca
Today a group of five of us had decided to forgo the safety and reliability of Mother Cunard and take our lives into our hands for a day of Tuk Tuks.
Ahhhhhhhhh Tuk tuks … the mode of transport for the crazy and ill advised. These modified versions of an ancient motorcycle with a carriage, that zip around developing countries like a swarm of bees. Their buzzing and warnings filling the air…
Toot! ...
“I’m here …”
Toot Toot! …
“So am I…”
Toot Toot Toot!
“I’m here, I heard you …”
The Third World countries are full of the noise of these little vehicles and their horn blasts. When you have six lines of traffic squeezing into a two-lane highway you need to know where your adversaries are. The constant warnings and blasts help while you are hurtling through the streets, careening and tipping, stopping and starting between trucks, buses and the less agile taxis.
Toot Toot!
“Here I am.”
“I see you … I’m here too …”
Toot Toot Toot ...
I asked the driver how he knew without looking around what he was dealing with and learned that the resonance and tone of the horn told him where and what he was dealing with.
He had replaced his small horn with one that would have made a Kenworth truck proud.
Everyone kept out of our way.
We had with us a list of Temples built during the Island’s tumultuous past. A time when the country was known to the Greeks, Arabs and Chinese traders. Their influence left in the religion, architecture and flavours of the country.
After visiting a number of lesser temples we traversed the city to Kathiresan Temple with its great vast halls carved in stone, blackened over hundreds of years from incense and burning oil. A multitude of burning candles lighting the cool stone interior which was reverberating in the footfall of the faithful, creating a blend of noise and music. The quiet compound - a contemplative haven from the noisy commerce of the market and street beyond.
After an exhaustive morning of clock towers, Victorian buildings, gem factories and markets, we managed to break to the Galle Face Hotel. A vestige to the Raj. A colonnaded building resplendent in ceiling fans and shutters, its long terraces overlooking the tepid blue Indian ocean and hosting a colossal Indian buffet in a tiled and sheltered verandah.We sat in colonial comfort, protected and coddled from the rigours of the city.
Our last port of call was to be the Asokaramaya Buddist Temple set in the outer suburbs of the city; but was too much for my travel-weary companions, so making the break on my own, I was able to flag a passing Tuk Tuk, first checking that its driver had at least a passing familiarity with road safety. Despite my initial confidence, it seemed that this driver had left his learner’s tag at home that day. We screeched and plundered our way across the byways of the city, a trail of smoke, and tooting. in our wake.
But Asokaramaya turned out to be the most beautiful of all the temples. A hexagonal building set just back from a market road. It’s plain exterior belying an interior of embellished walls featuring soaring dioramas of Buddha surrounded by his faithful. Walls covered in a rich tapestry of vibrant colour and action. Plaster and wooden statues clawing their way out of the stone and cement, scenes of mountains and gardens inhabited by crowds of gods and mortals venerating the life of Buddha.
The ceiling, hanging over the central and massive Buddha, was decorated in all hues of the rainbow and lit by a soaring windowed dome. A haven of tranquility and calmness that only a peaceful life can produce. It’s hard to believe the tranquility here is a vestige of the life outside.
How amazing that this country with its pace and speed could have such a peacefulness at its heart.
Soon it was time to leave and return through the tempest of the city to my home away from home, somehow its decoration and furniture seemed faded in comparison.
Colombo - Can’t wait to come back
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