This track definitely wasn’t on the map, and it certainly
wasn’t on the Google earth print-out I was using to navigate. I was twenty
miles north east of Unawatuna in the south of Sri Lanka and it was starting to
look like I might be lost. One of the most enjoyable things about exploring Sri
Lanka on a mountain bike is the fact that you can easily access the beautiful
countryside and quiet backroads that criss-cross the island: simply head off
into the countryside and five minutes after leaving the town you will be riding
through rice paddies, rainforest or tea plantations.
I was at a junction in the middle of the rice paddies. To
the left the track curved away through more paddies with buffalo grazing and
the ever-present egrets sat on their backs, to the right the track climbed up a
hill into the trees and out of sight. As I stood looking at my bedraggled
printout trying to figure out which way to go next there was a rustling in the
trees just to my left. Looking up I saw a large Purple-faced Leaf Monkey
watching me. This species, endemic to the island and threatened by habitat
loss, can be easily seen in the south: in the forests, at the beach and even
sat on the steps of the Galle Fort Hotel! With their white beards and wrinkled
faces they look like wise old men looking on the modern world with bemusement. I
tried to orientate my map to the ground and figure out where I was – the monkey
looked on with a sceptical look on his face, doubting my navigation abilities,
then jumped away through the trees, completely disinterested in my fate.
I had spent many days exploring this area on my bike. The
Southern Province of Sri Lanka is ideal for cycling. North from Galle to Kottawa
and east to Matara comprises a maze of quiet backroads and dirt tracks snaking
their way across paddy fields, through marshes, forest and over the low hills
of the rainforest belt. Areas of agricultural development are mixed with thick,
unspoilt forest and small villages to give the region a timeless, rural feel.
Traffic is light except for the tuk-tuks and you are as likely to meet a ruddy
mongoose or water buffalo as you are a tourist. Roadside stalls groaning under
the weight of seasonal fruit mean that you are unlikely to go hungry and the
locals greet you with a friendly if a little bemused smile as you ride past.
Towards the coast little evidence remains of the devastation caused by the
Tsunami on Boxing Day 2004. Memories of that day run deep and in Galle,
Unawatuna and Matara there were few families unaffected. Since then houses and
hotels have been rebuilt and renovated and the area continues to experience a tourist
boom, as can be seen in the explosion of boutique hotels opening in Galle Fort
and the increase in larger hotels along the coast road. My problem now was how
to find my way back to the coast.
Left looked like more of the same, maybe right, up the hill,
might give me a view of where I was heading to. I rode on up the hill through
tall trees hanging with jackfruit, rose apples and mangos. After a while I got
to the top where the track levelled off. As I leant resting on the bike
drinking some water I noticed a faint track leading off into the bushes to the
right. I left the bike by the side of the road and went to have a look. The
path led me around the edge of the hill through dense undergrowth for about 50
metres until it opened out into an amazing view of the surrounding countryside.
Overlooking this scene was a giant statue of the Buddha, maybe ten metres tall,
sat serenely on the hill surveying the fields and jungle below.
I was completely blown away. There had been no sign from the
road that the Buddha was there, only the faint track leading away from the road.
The area surrounding the statue was well maintained and some flowers lay at the
foot of it, maybe a day old. There was no one else around but suddenly there
was a rustling in the bushes behind me which sent my heart racing at the
thought of snakes, and out wandered a 3-foot long monitor lizard, licking his
lips as he waddled across behind me and disappeared back into the jungle. I
stayed for a while enjoying the view over the jungle canopy almost as far as
the sea, then got back on my bike. The track continued along the top of the
hill for about five minutes then started to descend. I accelerated downhill
around tight bends and past some startled pedestrians enjoying the cooling
breeze until I joined a metalled road at the bottom.
Trying to get directions back to Unawatuna wasn’t easy –
once you leave the main tourist centres less and less people speak English and
my pidgin Sinhala wasn’t making much headway. Eventually I thought I understood
where they were sending me but what I really wanted to do was to tell them that
I had just seen the most amazing Buddha sat on a hill above a breathtaking
view. Sadly my language skills weren’t up to the job. For them it would have
been less remarkable –Sri Lanka is a place where these amazing sights are a
daily occurrence.
Feeling tired but happy I headed back towards the coast,
looking forward to relaxing with a king coconut juice (or maybe a cold Lion
Lager) and already planning my next ride out to explore the countryside.
