As we didn't fancy walking the 3 km from Hiriketiya to Dikwella bus stop lugging our worldly belongings on our backs like overgrown turtles, our lovely hosts organised a cheap tuk-tuk to take us instead. We eventually figured out which bus was ours and pushed our way aboard. The crowded bus made the journey in record time, aided by the racing aspirations of its driver. Picking up new passengers along the way had been perfected to an art form, the bus never seemed to actually stop as people leapt from the street into the open doors, doing so until the seats and gangway were chock-full. Getting off at the other end wasn't quite so smooth, as we had to climb over tightly packed bodies to grab our bags. The driver actually pressed the brakes long enough for us both to jump free of the sardine can, and we ended up on the main road a few km away from our hostel.
We had chosen a quiet looking place set in the countryside surrounded by fruit trees and open space, a 30 minute walk away from pretty much anything else. Tired from the journey and with our heavy bags we flagged down a passing tuk-tuk (who charged us double the going rate) and made the short journey to our new home. Hideaway Hostel was everything we hoped it would be, and a lot more besides. Every morning (apart from New Years day but with good reason!) our host Cartoon made a complimentary breakfast of banana pancakes or potato curry, washed down with unlimited tea served on a long bench in the beautiful shade-dappled garden. The fridge was always stocked with ice-cold Lion beer, with a whiteboard next to it so you could tally up your cans. In the evenings we would all gather round the table to tuck into a fantastic homemade curry and rice or a naughty takeaway from the local Indian restaurant then play cards, chat and try to get the most marks against your name on the beer board.
Knowing that the hostel was a little out the way, Cartoon offered free tuk-tuk rides to the beaches nearby. He took a few of us out the first evening to his favourite surfing destination, Dewata beach, where we sipped beer, swam and watched the sun set in the bath-warm water. A few days later, after a pretty disappointing yet very expensive meal at a local pizza place, we headed to Unawatuna beach and immediately felt so glad we had avoided it in our search for accommodation. The beach was covered in tourists, all sunning themselves on plastic chairs from an endless array of restaurants offering overpriced food and pulsating drum and bass, while the single winding road back to town was bordered by hundreds of shops selling the same plastic tat as their neighbours. At one point i'm sure this area was beautiful, but it felt like over development and tourism had won. Thankfully just a few kilometres away was Dalawella beach, which had managed to maintain a balance between commercialism and nature.
Dalawella is famous for its Instagram swing, where two enterprising young Sri Lankans have tied a rope swing to a palm tree overhanging the beach, and now charge gullible tourists £5 each for three goes for the perfect picture. Safe to say, we didn't join the queue because we were there for another reason; swimming with wild turtles. A small still lagoon, walled off from the strong tides by coral, attracts giant turtles meaning we didn't even need snorkels to see these wonderful animals. We couldn't quite believe it when the first turtle practically swam right up to us, before continuing on it's way. While we were here we saw at least eight turtles coming for a visit, and were luckily enough to swim alongside a few of them before they quickly outpaced us. It was disappointing to see how some tourists boxed the turtles in, crowding round them trying to get the perfect picture while the turtle tried to escape - luckily this didn't last long as a local Sri Lankan man told them off for distressing the poor animal.
Although we were lucky enough to spot turtles on both our visits - despite others in our hostel not fairing so well - my hat didn't share our luck. While walking back to shore I noticed one of Dalawella beach's many stray dogs investigating our things, then too my horror it cocked it's leg and peed straight into my hat! I quickened my pace, yelling like a lunatic but that didn't deter the line of dogs who all felt the need to add their own scent to my bloody hat. Ben found this all very amusing (seeing as all of his things were safe and sound in our waterproof bag), but it's safe to say I didn't see the funny side of it at the time. I plunged the hat straight into the sea, and gave it a thorough washing when we got back home but I haven't really wanted to wear it ever since... unsurprisingly.
With our time in Sri Lanka coming to it's end, we thought it best to balance out the beach-bumming with a little culture, and the nearest place to do that was Galle Fort. The fort was built by the Portuguese in 1541 and was first used as a prison camp for Sinhalese natives who opposed the Portuguese. Later on, after the Dutch joined the Sinhalese King to overthrow the Portuguese in 1640, they rebuilt the fort in the Dutch architectural style, which can still be seen today. No longer a working fort, the streets are now lined with cafes, restaurants, shops and antique stores. We had a wonderful afternoon, wandering around the streets, watching the sunset from atop the fort wall, spotting sharks swimming in the water below and enjoying overpriced fancy ice cream. At one time we were considering staying a couple of days in Galle Fort, but i'm glad we didn't... the area was beautiful and charming but there wasn't that much to do. There is a couple of museums, but mainly it was just expensive shops and restaurants, our wallet took a hit just visiting for the afternoon.
So Galle Fort was pricey, but we managed to even this out with a relatively cheap New Years Eve. Our evening started with a group of us drinking in the hostel, along with our host Cartoon. He was on the champagne, but to keep things cheap Ben and I had brought a bottle of the local rum like drink called "arack"; we'd first tried to make arack based pina coladas but with them turning out more like boozy pineapple smoothies, we decided to mix it with some coke instead. At 11:45 PM after a evening of playing card based drinking games, it was time to hop in the tuk-tuk and head down to the beach. Cartoon, (who seemed to know everyone) managed to get us into a bar where we stowed our things before heading to the beach to watch the fireworks.
The display on Unawatuna beach was a delightful yet terrifying experience. With the rockets coming from almost every bar in the bay, the sky was filled with competing colours as fireworks exploded continuously in the sky... at the same time, you didn't quite know where the next firework would be coming from and sometimes it was far closer than comfortable. There was also a guy running around setting off flares, but he was fine as long as you got out of his way. To continue the fire portion of the evening, our host Cartoon hopped in front of the stage at the bar and showed off his fire-dancing. I was sceptical at first, but he did have skills.
After a bit of questionable dancing, our group decided to go and cool off by jumping in the sea.... I would love to say this was spontaneous but we did all plan ahead and brought our swimming gear. While the party raged on along the beach, the six of us floated atop the sea staring at the stars. We were laying back and wondering why no-one else was joining in with this amazing experience when one of our group got stung by a jellyfish, question answered we decided to call it a night and head home. We hopped in a tuk-tuk, headed back to the hostel and spent a while cuddling the hostel dogs and chatting into the early hours. It was a great night.
We were sad to leave Sri Lanka, a place of stunning landscapes and beautifully kind people. The Unawatuna Hideaway Hostel in particular was hard to leave, it truly felt like a home away from home - everyone who walks through Cartoon's doors is made to feel like part of the family- but it was time to start our next adventure, and besides our visas were running out. We had a late flight booked, so ambled our way slowly back to Colombo - catching the sun going down over the sea from our train window.
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