Author: rr_admin

We go from Colombo to the beach town of Mirissa, in the south.

First, we catch the train to Matara. It’s late.

Not only is the train late – this train is supposed to begin at Fort station, ensuring that we get a seat (the entire train is unreserved). As it turns out, it begins one station before, so it’s packed by the time we board.

We squish three to a seat. It’s better than standing.

The day is overcast. By the time we arrive, there is thunder, lightning, and torrential rain.

We pass many small stations along the way.

If you like, you can hang out of the door for thrilling action shots.

The next day dawns bright and sunny in Mirissa.

The firstborn daughter of our good friends in Ottawa was named after this beach. She is now a beautiful 22-year-old.

There’s plenty of fresh fish to be had.

This is what it looks like before it’s on the plate.

Fishing is how people make a living around here.

An older gentleman does it old school.

The local seabirds eat well, too.

Fishermen use unusually-narrow, stand-up outrigger fishing boats.

Actually, we stay in Bandaramulla, about a half kilometre past Mirissa town.

The main village of Mirissa is a bit overdeveloped these days. Where we are, we enjoy a small private beach and lots of peace and quiet.

We develop a routine of sorts: breakfast, time at the beach.

Afternoons of leisure. Some more time at the beach.

Palm trees galore.

We try to see the sunset most evenings.

Sight or Insight of the Day

We don’t really have one for this entry. It’s a pretty lackadaisical few days on the south coast.

We find a local cafe where we have lunch and a cool drink at noon.

Then it’s back up the coast to the fortress town of Galle.

I really admire Colombo. He’s so resourceful. And I love his ‘…just one more thing‘ shtick.

Oh, wait. That’s Columbo.

We’re talking about Colombo, the capital of Sri Lanka. Where we wind up a few days after leaving Polonnaruwa.

Close to Polonnaruwa, we stop to have a look at some prehistoric tombs.

Our destination is Ridi Viharaya. This is off the beaten track, so we pass through lonely coconut plantations and green hills.

The cave temples at Ridi Viharaya have Buddhas of different shapes and sizes.

We are the only visitors. It’s very peaceful.

The doors have very elaborately-worked handles.

Overnight is spent in Kurunegala. We stay at the colonial-era Hotel Viveka,

Preparing to leave the next day. In the middle is Viraj, our driver. (And all-round bodyguard.)

At the Millennium Elephant Foundation, we see elephants in the river being scrubbed with a coconut husk.

Some elephants get a treat, like this squash.

At last, we’re in Colombo, staying in the area of Galle Road.

Back in the neighbourhood of Colombo Fort Station, where our journey began.

The hubbub of Colombo makes a great change from the quieter parts of the island.

The port of Colombo is undergoing modernization by the Chinese.

Before returning to the hotel, we watch the sun go down in the Arabian Sea…

…just as a train passes on the tracks that hug the shoreline.

Next day, we visit the National Museum. It’s well-preserved, with well-curated exhibits. Nice grounds, too.

It’s interesting to see displays about many of the places we’ve seen here.

You know the giant stupas we describe from time to time? This is what’s buried in the centre – a modest teacup-sized reliquary and a few tutelary figurines.

In the afternoon, we go to the elegant Galle Face Hotel to enjoy a drink in front of the ocean. Also to celebrate early for Judith’s upcoming birthday, since we are going to miss it.

And lastly, to celebrate the end of our journey as a quartet: Judith flies home in the wee hours of the morning. She must return to w&#k. We Shanghai Pete for a further few weeks.

Sight or Insight of the Day

We track down the house of Arthur C. Clarke.

This takes a bit of detective work, as it’s not officially open to the public. Once we make our way there, however, the caretakers are amenable to letting us have a look around.

Clarke lived in Sri Lanka from 1956 until his death in 2008. Even though he passed away over 10 years ago, the house looks as if he just stepped out for a minute.

It’s full of awards and memorabilia, as well as signed photos given by everyone from Tom Hanks to Buzz Aldrin.

This looks like a very Clarkian invention – a solar-powered pith helmet.

There’s something about visiting the homes of artists – fascinating to see where the magic happens.

Arthur C. Clarke in February 1965, on one of the sets of 2001: A Space Odyssey.

See you in another life, Arthur.

‘Trinco’ is a common contraction for ‘Trincomalee’. ‘Polly’, however, is not a common contraction for ‘Polonnaruwa’ – we just have a hard time remembering the name of that town.

Our hotel in Trinco is on Uppaveli Beach, a few kilometres north of town.

The beach is nice and clean.

Those who like to swim take advantage of a calm morning.

Here, Pete and Judith take a refreshing dip in the sea.

This is a view of our hotel from the water.

It’s Diwali in Trincomalee. The weather is mostly grey and rainy at this time of year, but we enjoy some sunny patches.

First stop of the day is the Koneswaram Temple, chiefly devoted to the worship of Shiva.

These wooden frames, we are told, are placed here by people wishing for babies.

A Diwali tradition is to wear one’s best clothes and jewellery. These lovely young ladies are knocking it out of the park.

People whisper into the ear of Nandi for their wishes to come true. (At least that’s what it looks like.)

A view down an alleyway gives a glimpse of the sea.

Around the harbour are some traditional boats.

Back in the market for supplies of fresh fruit.

Through rain that never seems to stop, we drive to Polonnaruwa. This is another ancient capital of a Sri Lankan kingdom, from about a thousand years ago.

Ruins of the Palace of King Parakramabahu I (1153 – 1186). It was once seven storeys tall and had 50 rooms.

King Parakramabahu was quite an overachiever. He was a great builder, reformer, and warrior. We didn’t know who this was when we took the photo below.

This is building is known as the Vatadage. The Sacred Tooth – now in Kandy – once resided here.

It sometimes stops raining long enough to fold our umbrellas.

A guardian stone. In the background is the Satmahal Prasada, the only stepped pyramid in Sri Lanka.

Sri Lanka gets a lot of visitors from Southeast Asia here to see the Buddhist sights.

A family of langurs laze in a nearby tree. We agree they’re much more serene than the frantic macaques that infest most places in Sri Lanka.

This enormous, 26-ton slab of stone was transported to Polonnaruwa from Minhale, 50 KMs away. It details the exploits of King Nissanka Malla (ruled 1187-1196).

At Gal Vihara, there are four giant Buddha statues.

The standing one has an unearthly attitude of casual cool. Almost Fonz-like.

Next morning, we visit the newly-opened Ancient Technology Museum in Polonnaruwa.

Sight or Insight of the Day

It’s all about the elephants. We’ve been eager to see more since we saw that pair in the field a while ago.

We organize an safari in Kaudulla National Park.

We’re not disappointed. We get much closer than we did on our initial encounter.

Besides elephants, we see other wildlife. Such as this jackal chasing another jackal.

Or these two peacocks. There are lots of wild peacocks in Sri Lanka.

In a dramatic moment, we are charged by a female elephant.

Following a few warning signs, she decides she’s had enough of our potential threat to the young ones and makes a determined beeline for our (very open) vehicle. We make a hasty getaway.

After traveling by train up to now, we rent a chauffeured van. Our driver, Viraj, picks us up in Ella. Then it’s back to Kandy, this time by road.

We stop for lunch in Nuwara Eliya, also known as ‘Little England’.

With the rain of the past few days, the rivers are swollen. We pass several dramatic waterfalls.

Back in Kandy for a single night. Next morning, we set out for Sirigiya.

Most signs in Sri Lanka are in Sinhalese, Tamil, and English.

We visit a spice garden. This is what nutmeg looks like before it’s ground up and sold in a little bottle.

Lunch means stopping for Sri Lankan fast food.

Our destination is the cave temple of Dambulla. Bare legs are not allowed, so Pete and I don some makeshift sarongs.

This temple complex dates back to the first century BC.

I make friends with the temple cat. Buddha taught that all sentient beings, including those in the animal realm, possess Buddha nature and therefore can attain enlightenment.

There is a calm tranquility about this place. Maybe because it’s not peak tourist season.

The caves contain amazing murals on the walls and ceilings.

We spend the night at the Nature Park Villas near Sigiriya. It’s nice.

First thing the next morning, we drive to Sigiriya.

A sign reminds would-be vandals and looters what awaits them in graphic detail.

There is no escalator. Just lots and lots of steps.

You get a great view from the top.

We try to spot our van in the parking lot far below.

Eventually, we make our way down.

The dandu lena, or grizzled giant squirrel, is considered by many Sinhalese to be the national animal of Sri Lanka. But it’s not official.

The next stop is Anuradhapura. This was the capital city of the first established kingdom in ancient Sri Lanka, founded in the fourth century BC.

The sights in Anuradhapura are quite widespread. Good thing we have Viraj to chauffeur us around. First we go to the Jaya Sri Maha Bodhi temple.

This contains a tree supposedly grown from a cutting of the tree under which Buddha achieved enlightenment.

This temple has an intricately-carved ‘moonstone’, or sandakada pahana.

From a different angle.

Many people bring offerings.

There are many langurs around. Judith sees a young one sneak up to a sleeping dog and pull its ears before racing away, proud of its mischief.

Maria takes a surreptitious photo of some praying ladies…

The massive stupa of Ruwanwelisaya is undergoing restoration.

A monk walks away from the enormous Jethawanaramaya stupa. It’s surrounded by a red sash because a part of a sash or belt tied by the Buddha is believed to be the relic that is enshrined here.

While wandering around, we are fortunate to see two hornbills land in a tree.

An example of early water management.

A mystery – we come across a pair of concrete blocks, each containing 20 squat-type toilets. The toilets are uncomfortably close together, even by Asian standards. Whatever can it all mean?

Sight or Insight of the Day

Now and then, we see electric fencing by the roadside, meant to keep elephants off the road. We imagine how great it would be to see some. (Elephants, that is.)

Sure enough, as we drive towards Trincomalee at dusk, we see a few vehicles pulled over. Out in the field, two elephants leisurely graze.

Seeing wild elephants is always like being present at the dawn of time.

We take the train from Kandy to Ella. We almost don’t make it – we are issued tickets for the wrong date. In the end, Maria saves the day.

It’s a five or six hour journey.

The cars are comfortable enough.

We journey through Sri Lanka’s hilly tea country.

Sri Lanka Railways has been serving the country since 1864.

It’s a rainy day in these hills.

We arrive in Ella. Our hotel looks out on the mountains.

A short hike brings us to the Nine Arch Bridge.

The bridge soon comes into view.

We look down into the valley.

This bridge attracts all types of locals and visitors.

Maria does her ‘Damsel in Distress’ imitation.

A coconut vendor offers refreshment.

Next we hike to Little Adam’s Peak.

Also surrounded by tea estates.

More tea-pickers at work.

Sight or Insight of the Day

Maria, Pete, and Judith attend a Sri Lankan cooking class in town.

The raw ingredients.

The instructor promises to reveal a useful website for further Sri Lankan recipes. They’re all ears. ‘Now take this down – w-w-w-dot-g-o-o-g-l…’

He has a sense of humour.

Our first dinner in Kandy. We sample kuttu roti, a mixture of roti (flatbread) pieces cooked on a flat iron skillet with chopped veggies and meat, seasoned with spices, ginger, garlic, and soy sauce.

It’s delicious.

Next morning, we take a bus down Kandy’s main thoroughfare, Peradeniya Road.

One of Kandy’s star attractions – the Botanical Gardens – is at the end of this road.

I test the strength of some conveniently hanging vines

There are thousands of flying foxes in the trees. They chatter and quarrel and flap their wings. Some fly from tree to tree. Pretty active for nocturnal creatures.

This is a giant Queensland Kauri.

All kinds of interesting flora and arbusta.

A red-faced monkey steals Maria’s package of biscuits while she takes a photo in the other direction.

Maria’s outage is softened when we see that the monkey has a little one.

Sight or Insight of the Day

In the afternoon, it’s time for a visit to a tea plantation. Geragama tea estate is just a tuk-tuk ride away.

This estate was founded in 1903. There are plenty of teas to choose from.

It’s all the same place. We fly from Delhi to Colombo, Sri Lanka.

The next day, our friends Pete and Judith arrive, after a grueling flight from Canada via London.

We stay in Negombo, a beach town that is closer to the airport than Colombo and a good place to recover.

Negombo is pretty low-key in comparison to the average urban tropical beach.

Except for the odd trinket-vendor, and the odd stray dog, the beach is pretty empty at this time of the year.

We have not seen each other in a long time.

Kandy is our first destination. It was the last capital of Sri Lankan royalty.

There are still a few colonial structures around. Like the Queen’s Hotel.

After arriving on the train, we make our way to our hotel.

First stop is the Temple of the Tooth.

At the entrance, floral offerings are sold.

The actual tooth is in here. According to Wikipedia:

‘The tooth relic is encased in seven golden caskets, which are engraved with precious gemstones.’

We watch the acrobatic monkeys leap from fence to tree.

The floral offerings on sale at the entrance? They end up here, at the upper level of the temple.

The afternoon monsoon rain drives us inside, where we rest on the marble floor.

People light butterlamps, a Buddhist tradition.

Sight or Insight of the Day

We take a train from Colombo to Kandy.

We begin traveling into the hills.

We look forward to a longer train trip from Kandy to Ella.

From Isfahan, we fly to Mashad on a McDonnell Douglas aircraft that was built in 1994. I can’t remember the last time I saw an MD civilian aircraft.

Mashad contains the Shrine of the Eighth Imam. Once again, Maria has to go full chador to enter.

In nearby Tus, we visit the tomb of Ferdowsi.

Ferdowsi’s work means a lot to Iranians. At a time when Arabic was in the ascendant, he’s seen as a major bulwark in the preservation of the Persian language.

As is usual here, the tomb is surrounded by beautiful, well-kept gardens.

Next we visit Nishapur. This was one of the greatest cities of the middle ages before the Mongols slaughtered everyone in town in 1221.

Part of the old town is being excavated.

Our little band of travelers watch the sun go down at the edge of the Chahjam Desert.

A herd of camels crosses our path.

After a night in Shahrud, we visit the shrine of Bayazid Bastami, another Sufi mystic.

People come here to pray.

Sheep wandering on the road are an occasional hazard.

Another nearby shrine is that of Abul Hassan Kharaqani, another Sufi master. Must be something in the water around here.

The tomb is surrounded by beautiful carpets and plants.

A four-wheel-drive vehicles takes us to the Abr Forest. We’re more impressed with the rocky hills than the forest.

Our 4WD driver insists on a group photo. We acquiesce.

Apparently, this is where saffron comes from. (I can’t vouch for the truth of this.) Iran is the largest producer of saffron in the world. (This is true.)

There are many oaks up here, stunted by the wind.

The next day dawns cold, windy, and rainy. We take a small motorboat out to an island in the Caspian Sea. On the island is a factory that processes caviar and sturgeon.

We fly from Gorgan back to Tehran. Next morning, our first stop is the superb Carpet Museum of Iran.

We are struck dumb by the beauty and skill of these carpets. Some of them must contain a million individual knots.

This may look like I’m practicing my bent-old-man-with-a-walking-stick look, but I am in fact examining details of this replica of the Pazyryk Rug.

Our last stop before the airport is the Azadi Tower, Tehran’s chief landmark.

The architect, Hossein Amanat, is a Bahá’í and now lives in Canada after fleeing the new regime under threat of death.

From the top, we take our last look at Tehran.

Eventually, it’s time to drive out to the airport.

Sight or Insight of the Day

We bid a sad goodbye to Saeed and Justin at Imam Khomeini Airport.

Three weeks goes by very fast. We have had a very special time here, exploring the country together.

Iran reminds me a lot of Chile in the 1980’s: Chileans are probably the friendliest, best-educated people in South America, yet they suffered under a brutal military dictatorship. I wondered at the time where they found the people to staff their torture cells: most people were so nice.

Iran is similar – a civilized, generous people being ruled by a handful of monstrous theocratic despots and their protectors, the Iranian equivalent of the SS: the Revolutionary Guard. Ruled by people who don’t care if the entire country suffers under sanctions, Hell-bent on acquiring nuclear weapons at any cost, for God-knows-what purpose. And don’t get us started on the crime-against-humanity that is the subjection of women under this unholy regime.

To counter the image that Iran has abroad, as a nation of terrorist-supporting maniacs, it’s a good thing to come here and experience the rich history and beautiful landscape and startling honesty of the Iranian people. (In contrast, in our first day back in Delhi when out running some short errands, Maria is cheated, short-changed, and overcharged five times in the space of one hour.)

And this is despite the grotesque propaganda that is the sole offering on most Iranian media. Foreigners are often portrayed as – at the very least – ‘evil’ (and Israelis as positively Satanic). We have the best of wishes for the future of the Iranian people. Thanks for your warm hospitality.

After a few days driving in Saeed’s car, we come to Isfahan.

There’s a Persian pun and proverb that says ‘اصفهان نیمی از جهان است’, that is, ‘Esfahān nesf-e- jahān ast‘: ‘Isfahan is half of the world’.

It may very well have been a few centuries ago, when Isfahan was one of the largest cities in the world.

Isfahan’s main attraction is the astounding Naqsh-e Jahan Square in the middle of town. The anchor of this square is the spectacular Shah Mosque.

If the Taj Mahal is the Taj Mahal of mausoleums, this must be the Taj Mahal of mosques. It’s so grand and overwhelming that we can’t capture it in a single photograph.

The exterior and interior are richly decorated with thousands of brilliantly-coloured tiles and calligraphy.

You could pack 10,000 worshipers in here.

The mihrab points to the direction of Mecca.

The scale of the complex, with its couple of madrasas and a winter mosque (whatever that is), is mind-blowing.

Around the square are many shops for souvenir-hunters.

An Isfahan specialty is qalamkar (spelling varies in English). Cotton cloth is decorated with wooden block prints, like in Rajastan. The finished product is very beautiful and colourful.

This is the view of square from the Ali Qapu palace, the dwelling of Shah Abbas I.

Across the square is the Shah’s private mosque.

The supporting columns of the palace verandah roof are single timbers of cedar from Lebanon.

There are Western-style paintings for the enjoyment of Western visitors to Shah Abbas.

We cross the square to see the Sheikh Lotfollah Mosque, the private mosque of Shah Abbas I.

Again, there are many representative-type paintings of human figures. Not strictly Islamic, but OK in the royal view, safe from the pious masses.

Sight or Insight of the Day

The Khaju Bridge is where we spend the end of the afternoon. It spans the Zāyanderud, which means ‘life-giving river’.

It’s a real ‘people place’. Families and young people hang out, have picnics, sing and dance. Away from the disapproving eyes of the Mullahs.

One family insists we participate in their family photo.

Then it’s time to drive out to the airport and catch our flight to Mashad.

From Kerman, we continue up the road. In the village of Fahraj is one of the oldest mosques in Iran.

It has that plainness of most early-period religious buildings, before they turn into palaces.

Next stop is Meymand village, where people live in caves.

There is an underground mosque.

Reminds us of Matmata in Tunisia.

We have been traveling in Saeed’s car since Shiraz. Back on the road, we greet a truck full of friendly field workers.

Daily we are pleasantly surprised by the friendliness and welcoming attitude of Iranians. Good thing we have Saeed with us: everyone is curious about how we find Iran, but few people speak English.

Arriving at the Zeinodinn caravanserai, where we spend the night. Caravanserais were inns – located about 30 KMs apart – where travelers would spend the night.

It’s on the old Silk Road.

This is the corridor lined with rooms.

Next day, we arrive in the desert city of Yazd.

Like many desert places, it’s pretty conservative.

Zoroastrianism has a visible presence in Yazd. Zoroastrianism was the religion of all classical Persia before the arrival of Islam in the 7th century.

Inside is a fire said to have been burning since 470 AD. It was first lit in the time of the Sassanian Empire.

Close to town are two Towers of Silence, where Zoroastrians used to expose their dead.

From the top, you get a good view of Yazd.

We attend a session of zoorkhaneh, which is part sport, part exercise, part theatre, part religious ceremony.

Maria dons an obligatory chador when we visit the Shazdeh Fazel shrine.

We visit the water museum. Of course, water has always been a concern in the arid parts of Iran.

In the heat of the afternoon, the Dowlat Abad Gardens beckon.

The tower is a windcatcher. Many buildings in Yazd have them.

Next day, we stop in the town of Varzaneh to see the old bridge.

There’s also an ancient pigeon tower.

The interior is remarkable.

In days of yore, the dung was collected and used on the fields.

Sight or Insight of the Day

Across the street from our hotel in Yazd is a girl’s school.

It’s difficult to understand the motive for the startling difference between what men can wear (virtually anything) and what women and girls can wear (the more concealing, the better).

This is taken from an Iranian talk show on the TV in our room.

You can barely hear the poor woman’s mumbled responses.