Showing posts with label Sri Lanka. Show all posts
Best in Travel 2013 - Top Ranked Sri Lanka
Sri Lanka’s architectural treasures
Sri Lanka’s architectural treasures
Think of Sri Lanka and, aside from images of Tamil Tiger strife, it might be hard to picture anything except palm trees, azure seas and sumptuous white sand beaches. And it is true that sinking into the sands of Mirissa or Bentota, you might be tempted to do little more strenuous than ordering a Lion lager for the remainder of your stay. But if you can summon the energy to wrest yourself from its sandy southern reaches, there is more to see than sea on this stellar island, whose architectural heritage is as rich and varied as its boutique hotels’ fine dining menus.
The obvious first step on a Sri Lanka architectural itinerary is the 17th-century walled Galle Fort, one of seven Unesco World Heritage sites on the island, and set just steps away from those glorious beaches on the south coast. Originally founded in the 16th Century by the Portuguese, work commenced in earnest on the fort in 1663 under Dutch colonial rule, when it became the country's primary port. Its maritime significance seeped away once Sri Lanka was ceded to the British in 1796, but the fort today, comprising 36 seafront hectares, remains part of a living, working city. Admire its architecture simply by wandering the streets, before taking a trip out to examine the 19th-century frescoes at the nearby Kataluwa Purvarama Mahavihara Buddhist temple, nestled in dense forest and originally built in the 13th Century. For stunning views out over both fort and sea, return to complete a full round of the Galle Fort walls at dusk, then replenish with tasty fusion cuisine at the Galle Fort Hotel, once a gem of a merchant's mansion.
Travelling upcountry to Kandy, the green hill country heart of Sri Lanka, the architectural legacy moves from colonial to religious, with Buddhist structures in abundance. Step in line with numerous pilgrims in Kandy's Unesco-rated Sacred City to visit the Dalada Maligawa, also known as the Temple of the Tooth and home to the country's most important Buddhist relic - allegedly a tooth of the Buddha. Then, to peruse the city's colonial past (it fell to the British in 1815) ramble the lanes of the British Garrison Cemetery, whose deaths, detailed on carved Victorian headstones and including sun stroke, jungle fever and rampaging elephants, paint a fascinating picture of colonial perils.
Slightly farther afield, Sri Lanka's so-called "cultural triangle" - comprising the area bounded by Kandy, Anuradhapura and Polonnaruwa - hosts Sri Lanka's most celebrated archaeological and cultural sites, and four more of its Unesco World Heritage sites. Ponder civilisations long-past at Polonnaruwa, home to the ruins of a 12th-century ruler's elaborate garden city; gape at the remains of the 5th-century city of Sigiriya, built into and atop a massive granite peak. Explore the palaces and monasteries of the Sacred City of Polonnaruwa, and wander the mural-filled cave monastery of Dambulla.
And even back on the south coast, hidden behind the heat and horn-honking of Colombo, Sri Lanka's capital, you will also find a trove of architectural treasures, many legacies of the country's melting-pot religious heritage. Savour the century old, candy-striped Jami-Ul-Alfa Mosque, explore the 19th-century Kelaniya Raja Mahar Vihara Buddhist temple, visit the Sri Kailawasanathar Swami Devasthanam Hindu temple - the oldest in town - then look in on the shrine of St. Anthony's Church, where devotees stand in line to deposit offerings to its Technicolor shrines. Meanwhile, for something more modern, detour to the Lionel Wendt Centre to examine the contemporary art on display, then, come nightfall, see the light-dressed silhouettes of the Seema Malakaya on Beira Lake, two island pavilions designed in 1985, one filled with bronze Thai Buddhas and the other centred around a sacred bodhi tree.
Alternatively, if you prefer to stay in your historic architecture rather than simply walk around it, check into one of the country's soothing heritage hotels, all sure to relieve you of the stresses of a temple-filled afternoon. Sleep in Colombo's colonial era Park Street Hotel, bed down at the immaculately restored Illuketia estate near Galle, or, if urges for the beach are simply too strong to ignore, opt for an extended stay at the Dutch colonial Beach House bungalow near Tangalle, where, amid antiques and attentive staff and a personal stretch of private beach, you can experience history and hedonism in equal, enchanting measure.
Foodie paradise in Sri Lanka's hill country
Foodie paradise in Sri Lanka's hill country
The charming village of Ella may be nestled in the middle of world-famous tea plantations, but it is locally renowned for something else: delicious home cooking. The town, located in the foothills of Sri Lanka's lush hill country 200km east of Colombo, offers foodies the chance to dig deep into the country’s culinary traditions and learn to eat – and cook – like a local.
Although Sri Lanka only recently emerged from a brutal 25-year civil war, the teardrop-shaped island is quickly emerging as an Asian hotspot for intrepid travellers in search of tropical beaches and ancient temples. Its complex cuisine, however, remains largely unknown, much to the frustration of locals who are inordinately proud of their country's fiery fare, which draws on influences from Portuguese and Dutch colonists as well as culinary heavyweight India, its closest neighbour.
Meals in Sri Lanka are referred to simply as "rice and curry", which belies the wide range of delicious dishes. While many Sri Lankan specialities are vegetarian, such as pumpkin curry flavoured with aromatic fenugreek and mustard seeds, or beetroot with freshly grated coconut and locally grown cinnamon, the island nation has a long history of seafood and mutton dishes as well as “devilled” fish, prawns and chicken, so named for their intense fiery heat. Meals also usually include malum, a salad of chopped leafy greens and coconut, crispy poppadoms (a large circular piece of thin, spiced bread), dal (a type of lentil stew), coconut sambal (a spicy condiment), home-made chutney and of course, fragrant steamed rice.
Spices are a staple of Sri Lankan food, from the cinnamon that drew the colonising Portuguese to the chillies that they left behind. Ella, with its verdant hills and cool nights, is fertile ground for growing many of these spices, such as cardamom, curry leaves and turmeric. As a result, the town is renowned for its delicately flavoured dishes, which use mild coconut milk rather than hot chilli. Locals proudly declare that favourites such as tender jackfruit curry and cinnamon-spiced potato curry are among the best you will ever eat.
Ella Spice Garden started by giving tours of their family-run spice garden, which contains everything from chillies to cinnamon, pepper to pandan. When 24-year-old Chandika Madusanka realised that people wanted to learn not only how the spices were grown but how to use them, he began running cooking classes out of his family's kitchen. He received his culinary training from his mother and younger sister, who still keep an eye on things to make sure he is staying true to their recipes, including several types of curries, dal, sambal, poppadoms and spiced rice. Once the class is over, the participants sit down at the family's dinner table to enjoy what they have prepared together.
Rawana Holiday Resort, known for offering one of Ella’s most delicious and best-value dinner spreads, has also given in to traveller demand for cooking instruction. After being inundated with requests for their recipes, they typed them up and also let those with a dinner reservation come early to watch the chefs prepare the night's “rice and curry” in exchange for a small tip. The evening meal consists of a dozen small plates, including spicy curries made from whatever was freshest at the market, such as young jackfruit, okra, pumpkin or bitter melon, and the Rawana speciality, a rich garlic curry simmered in a pressure cooker until soft and creamy. Their dal, made from red lentils and flavoured with coconut milk, cinnamon and turmeric, is simple yet irresistible.
Not just a prime spot for learning how to cook Sri Lankan fare, Ella is also an excellent place to learn about the country’s storied history in the world of tea. Tea production took off in Sri Lanka in the late 1800s after disease devastated the country's coffee plantations. The cool, emerald hill country turned out to have the perfect ecosystem for the popular beverage, and it was not long before Ceylon – Sri Lanka’s former name – became synonymous with high-quality tea.
Taking a tea factory tour is a must for any aficionado of the heady brew, and there is one in the town of Bandarawela, 13km southwest of Ella. TheUva Halpewaththa Tea Factory’s guided tour shows the various stages of tea manufacturing, from sorting the fresh leaves to separating the different classes of dried tea, culminating in a tasting on the factory’s top floor with stunning views of the surrounding plantations. If you would like to bring a taste of Ceylon home, the company sells a selection of freshly packaged teas.
Bandarawela is also known for its lively Sunday morning vegetable market, where local farmers and traders gather to sell produce and household products to crowds that come in from neighbouring towns. Ella has a smaller, more convivial market of its own on Wednesday mornings, when Passara Road is lined with women dressed in brightly coloured saris selling fresh vegetables and herbs that will be used to create that evening's dinner in kitchens all over town. Visitors staying at one of the many family-run guest houses, all of which offer home-cooked suppers to their guests, can purchase vegetables to be prepared for their evening meal – the local chefs are remarkably accommodating. In fact, most are happy to give informal cooking lessons in their kitchen. Dinners need to be reserved by midday, though, to allow enough time prepare the many exquisite dishes that make up a Sri Lankan meal.
A few days in Ella will be long enough to sample the tea, gorge on Sri Lankan cuisine and learn to cook it at home. But the town’s unpretentious charm, its culinary surprises and gracious, friendly locals will make you wish you could stay much longer.
Riding Sri Lanka’s new wave
Riding Sri Lanka’s new wave
There are not many places on Earth where travellers can surf world-class waves in the morning, have a close encounter with an elephant at lunchtime and be back in the water by mid afternoon. Arugam Bay, on Sri Lanka’s eastern coast, is one such place, and since the country’s civil war ended three years ago, the small town has been busier than ever – despite how hard it is to get to.
Other than a highway from Colombo, the capital, to Galle, a city in the south, most of Sri Lanka’s roads remain practically as they were in the 1950s – which means narrow, dual carriageways shared by everyone, including cyclists, buses and trucks. As such, the coast-to-coast haul from Colombo to Arugam Bay by public bus is a 400-rupee, 320km journey that takes nearly 12 hours. It is hot, uncomfortable, occasionally terrifying and utterly worthwhile.
On a recent trip, a young man with an AK-47 boarded the noisy bus and prodded the barrel of his assault rifle into the belly of a middle-aged woman. Rather than panic and scream, she politely asked him to refrain, and the young man, a soldier in the Sri Lankan army, looked a bit embarrassed and apologised. The weapon, hanging from his shoulder, had accidentally prodded the woman as he leaned forward to stow his luggage in the cramped overhead compartment.
Well-marked busses leave frequently from the Bastian Mawatha Bus Terminal in Colombo. Alternatively, visitors can make the journey by taxi, which will take less time and has the added bonus of privacy and air-conditioning, but will cost about 16,500 rupees.
Once you get to Arugam Bay, there is not much to do. The town – nicknamed “A Bay” by locals – is basically a thin strip of road with bars and restaurants frequented by young surfers and partygoers, a smattering of places to stay, a few surf shops and not much else, but travellers are lured by the excellent food on offer, easy access to exotic wildlife and waves that are widely regarded as some of the country’s best. It seems like a place on the cusp of something, which, in a way, it is. Many of the local tourism operators, tuk-tuk drivers and restaurant staff say that 2012 has been the busiest year yet.
The hometown surfers have grown up on Arugam Bay’s many breaks, and run the town’s surf shops and schools. Safa surf shop (Main Street; 94-779-552-268) has a wide range of boards for hire, from high-performance shortboards for the more experienced, to large, stable longboards for beginners. The owner, Fawas Lafeer, or another of Safa’s friendly, competent instructors can recommend the best board to suit a visitor’s level of experience.
The next morning, as the sun was just hauling itself over the horizon, Lafeer and I decided to test out Arugam Bay’s main surf break, Main Point. As the rising sun cast an amber haze over the spray, a quick walk from Ranga’s Beach Hut brought us to the break – a fantastically easy-to-surf right-hand wave, breaking over a fairly soft reef before wrapping around the point, where it got smaller and easier for the less experienced surfers in the line-up. On a good day, rides of 500m are not uncommon. As can be expected with famous breaks such as this, the crowds were out – much of it made up with Italian and Israeli surfers.
For the crowd-averse, or those wanting smaller waves, there are other options within, at most, a 30-minute half-hour tuk-tuk ride of Arugam Bay. Pottuvil Point, an 8km drive north, is a lot smaller and easier on the learners. Whiskey Point, about 14km north, offers more high-quality waves than Pottuvil Point, fewer crowds and is the number one party beach on a Friday night. Peanut Farm, located 6km south of Arugam Bay, offers small waves similar to Pottuvil Point, and Crocodile Rock, 8km south of Arugam Bay, is another ideal spot for novices. It is named after the reptiles which frequent the beach’s lagoon (thankfully far from the surfer’s waves), and any tuk-tuk driver worth their salt will know the best time to catch the crocs bathing.
To get up close to the wildlife, visitors can opt for a conventional safari -- or ask a tuk-tuk driver to lead the way. Sadid, a middle-aged local tuk-tuk driver, took me to a collection of flat rocks covered in white stains near Crocodile Rock. A “crocodile toilet”, he said.
Since the creatures remained hidden, Sadid commandeered a thin canoe and we paddled into the lagoon to take a closer look. Across the water, a small herd of elephants, two adults and a child, emerged from the brush, and closer to the canoe, a herd of water buffalo lay all but submerged in the bleary green waters, escaping the late morning sun.
Sadid knew a spot further inland that was virtually guaranteed to be teeming with crocodiles. Turning off the main drag, Pottuvil-Panama Road, we dustily bounced west through the countryside past dried-up rice paddies; the only other people in the area were two soldiers at a military outpost. While one carried the usual Kalashnikov rifle, the other, unnervingly, brandished a shiny six-inch blade. Fortunately, as they sauntered up to the tuk-tuk, the soldier produced an apple and stripped off a few slices before waving the tuk-tuk on with a big smile “Aah, crocodiles! That way!”
The track bent around a large muddy basin framed with white-stained rocks. What seemed like submerged logs clogging the water were, in fact, crocodiles. Some basked on the shore, including a huge beast around 4m long. Having seen enough wildlife for the day, we turned back, but just as Sadid was explaining the danger of elephants in the wild, a full-size adult crashed out of the thin scrub to the side of the dirt track, 3m tall and close enough for its loud trumpeting to ring through the vehicle, making Sadid yell and focus intently on squeezing every last horsepower out of the tuk-tuk’s tiny engine. It was a lot closer – and a lot more dangerous – than a conventional jeep safari.
Back in the safety of easygoing Arugam Bay, there was still time to calm the nerves over lunch and squeeze in an afternoon surf before a few rounds of Lion beer and arak at Mambos Café, where Main Point’s crashing waves are drowned out by the club music booming through the sound system. Fortunately, a day like this is not a rare occurrence in Arugam Bay.
Where to eat
Gecko Café offers completely natural homemade fare, everything from western breakfasts to local curries.
Gecko Café offers completely natural homemade fare, everything from western breakfasts to local curries.
Where to stay
Mambo’s is one of the nicer places to stay in Arugam Bay. It is a bit pricey but the expansive bar area is the place to go on a Saturday night. The hotel, which offers three guesthouse rooms, three beach bungalows and four luxury beach bungalows, overlooks Main Point.
Mambo’s is one of the nicer places to stay in Arugam Bay. It is a bit pricey but the expansive bar area is the place to go on a Saturday night. The hotel, which offers three guesthouse rooms, three beach bungalows and four luxury beach bungalows, overlooks Main Point.
Ranga’s Beach Hut, a small accommodation with less than a dozen rooms, is quite affordable, and you can watch the surf from its sand-floored restaurant.
Getting to the heart and soul of hilly Sri Lanka
Getting to the heart and soul of hilly Sri Lanka
The train toward Sri Lanka’s towering Sri Pada mountain moved slowly, spiralling up inch-by-inch through steep ravines lined on either side by lush green seas of tea leaves. In between the tightly packed rows of trees, women clad in bright saris stooped to pick the tea at a furious pace, ripping off handfuls of green with remarkable speed, leaving each branch completely bare before moving on to the next. As the train climbed higher, their profiles gradually faded into blurry silhouettes on the landscape. As a slight rain started to fall, each woman opened a wide umbrella, a rainbow of polka dots popping up amid the ocean of green.
Sri Lanka has been a travel hotspot ever since its 25-year civil war reached a definitive end in 2009, with tourism numbers growing by 33% in 2011. In a stark contrast to the white sand beaches most often associated with the Asian island, the country’s “hill country” is an emerald, mist-enshrouded region, dominated by mountains older than the Himalayas and connected by an enduring train system, built in the 1860s by British colonialists. After two decades of war-related bombings that scared even many locals off train travel here, the end of the conflict has made the railways an attractive option again. Today, first-class observation cars with panoramic windows let leaf-peeping tourists zoom through the hill country in one day. Alternatively, you can ride alongside Sri Lankan families in the slower-moving second- and third-class trains, getting off each day to explore a slice of the region on foot.
The gateway to the hill country is Kandy, the capital of an ancient Sri Lankan kingdom that, thanks to its strategic elevated position, held off 16th-century European invaders for several hundred years longer than the rest of the island. To this day, Kandy remains the centre of Buddhist spiritualism in Sri Lanka. Clustered around a serene lake, the city is framed by two striking religious monuments — a towering white Buddha that looks down on the city from the hills and the gold canopied roof that crowns the lakeside Temple of the Tooth.
According to legend, the temple contains one of Buddha’s teeth, retrieved from the funeral pyre in India where he was cremated some 2,400 years ago, sometime in the 5th Century BC. Today, all Sri Lankan Buddhists (70% of the population) believe they must visit Kandy at least once to pay homage to the Enlightened One’s long-decaying cuspid. Inside the shrine, hundreds of worshipers pray quietly below sweeping ceiling murals that depict historical Buddhist scenes, working their way toward the gold casket said to hold Buddha’s tooth. Anyone can visit the temple and walk through, but only devotees are allowed past the heavy gilded door guarding the room where the tooth is held.
Fifty kilometres along the train route from Kandy lies the path to Sri Pada, a holy shrine of a much different nature. Ancient Sri Lankans are said to have found the 2,200m-mountain topped by a giant footprint, and thus, Sri Pada holds religious significance for each of the island’s religious groups. Hindus believe it is where Lord Shiva first set foot on Earth; Buddhists claim it as the oversize mark of their lord; and some Muslims and Christians worship it as the spot where Adam stood in penance after being expelled from Heaven.
During the December to May pilgrimage season, hundreds of Buddhists gather at the mountain’s base each morning, starting the climb a 3 am or earlier to avoid the daytime heat and reaching the summit in time to see the sunrise. They range from grandfathers with traditional flowing sarongs hanging over their bare feet to teenagers clad in polo shirts and trainers, all climbing the 5,000-odd stone steps that are illuminated by electric lights throughout the night, a glowing white line spiralling up the mountain and marking the way to the top. Upon reaching the summit, each pilgrim rings a bell paced there, one chime for every climb they have completed in their lifetime, then they jostle for a position along the summit’s edge to watch the coming sunrise.
In contrast to that mass of humanity, the hill country’s third great site, Horton Plains, is a secluded national park set on a curving plateau 25km from Ohiya, a spit-size village adjacent to the train tracks, where any of the guesthouses will arrange transportation to the park. There, thick emerald forests give way to wild grasslands reminiscent of the African savannah. At a spot known as World’s End, the plain suddenly drops off altogether and the view opens up through the mountains, stretching down 900m to the verdant tea plantations below, on clear days even revealing a sliver of the Indian Ocean 160km away — each geographical element of this remarkably diverse island suddenly lined up together.
Yet for all of the natural beauty of the hill country, its most memorable aspect may well be the journey itself. Waiting alongside the train tracks as the perennially late locomotive rumbles into hearing distance long before it arrives. Sitting on the edge of an overcrowded train car, feet dangling over the side as the green mountains take over and the picturesque coastline fades away. Grabbing lunch from salesmen who push their way through packed cars, offering hot samosas (deep fried pockets of pastry stuffed with chickpeas and vegetables) wrapped in someone’s reused geometry homework. Settling into a seat as day turns to night and twilight adds a mischievous element to the ride, with a burst of hooting and hollering breaking out each time the train passes through a darkened tunnel. When it emerges, flashes of lightening illuminate the hills and valleys — lighting up Horton Plains, the peak of Sri Pada and the never-ending tea plantations.
Source : http://www.bbc.com/travel/feature/20120713-getting-to-the-heart-and-soul-of-hilly-sri-lanka
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Were this world an endless plain, and by sailing eastward we could for ever reach new distances