Country #118: Mountains, Hippies and Ziplines....Wheeeee

So, let's say that in the past week, you've already been diving in the Indian Ocean, seen a mama turtle burying her eggs on the beach, encountered monkeys and monitor lizards at every turn, made good on your goal of seeing a leopard in the wild and had multiple surprise elephant encounters whilst just going about your day. What next?

If you are following my itinerary, you leave behind the sweltering heat and head inwards and upwards (as in 3,415 ft above sea level). My next stop was Ella, an ultra-chill mountain town where I could have happily stayed for weeks.

I was initially a bit wary about this stop since a lot of the activities revolve around hiking and I was still limping around after an unprovoked run-in with a coral reef. But as I was quickly learning, there are no ugly parts of Sri Lanka so even if I just chilled in town, I was sure it would be fine. Who needs scenic hikes and waterfalls?

Me, that's who. FOMO does not stop for a bum knee. Which is why I was thrilled when I looked up to see why we were stopping en route to Ella and found myself face to face with Ravana Falls. Like it is right on the side of the road. No hiking required.

As for scenic hikes, the landscape along the drive would do quite nicely.

The town itself, which is located primarily along one long ascending road has that artsy feel to it that just kind of puts you in an immediate good mood.

Nowhere was this more evident than at the absolutely perfect No Name hostel. Built from the ground up by Sanjeewa, the owner, it is clearly a passion project. Every detail, from the many hammocks to the evening films screened out on the patio made you feel like you were just hanging out at your cool friend's house, albeit the friend with the amazing mountain view. Being able to access my room by crawling through a window only added to the casual vibe. 

The day I arrived, I heard a lot of talk about that evening's full moon. That's right. My lucky streak continued. There would surely be bonfires and drum circles and happy hippies. This little mountain town was going to go off. They even had a name for it, Poya Day. You want to know the translation of Poya Day?  It means "Sike bitch!  Hope you brought your own booze because this country is going dry for the night." Yes, you read that right. As a holy Buddhist holiday, the country bans alcohol sales once a month. 

This disappointment was not new to me. I once had a similar experience at a hotel in Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia. I ordered a beer only to be informed that it was the first Friday of the month. As someone who easily loses track of time, I thanked the bartender for that information and clarified that I would like a local beer. Only he wasn't trying to be helpful. It turns that out that in an attempt to curb a problem with rampant alcoholism, the country goes dry every first Friday. It does not appear to be working since the practical effect of this is that the locals stock up on the first Thursday and the underprepared tourists end up buying (I swear this is true) Genghis Khan vodka out of the trunk of some dude's car.

Anyways, back to Ella. The only place going off was the local temple which was full of families singing and praying, which was actually quite beautiful to see. As for Sri Lankan prohibition, a waiter helpfully pointed out that a glass of orange juice and a screwdriver would look the same to a cop trying to enforce the Poya law <wink, wink> so that problem kind of solved itself. 

It turned out to be a great night following by a brisk, chilly morning. My knee was feeling better so I decided to attempt one of the city's must do's, the hike up Little Adams Peak (as opposed to Big Adams peak, which is elsewhere in the country). My hostel was right by the starting point so I figured that by going early, I could beat the crowds, This way I would have that scenery to myself and most importantly, be able to do it at my own pace. 

The plan worked perfectly. I took my time, stopping for approximately 999 photos of the amazing scenery. By the time I reached the top, the more ambitious tour groups had caught up to me, thus providing me with plenty of potential photographers. 

On my way back down, a wonderful thing happened. The zipline office had opened up. I had seen the signs on my way up but had wrongly assumed that they were permanently shut down. My one concern, that after zipping down, I'd have to hoof it back up, was quickly addressed when I saw a bunch of people in harnesses disembarking from the back of a pickup truck. Zipline me up, I'm doing this.

You can see how it went here. (Spoiler alert: I loved it!)

 

If that is not the perfect morning, I don't know what is. Poya now behind us,  I celebrated with a cold beer and a fantastic veggie spread. 

A couple asked if they could join me, although there were other open tables. I soon figured out why.  The woman also wanted to have a cold frosty beer but needed the pretext of not letting me drink alone in order to justify it to her cranky husband. It's moments like this that make me happy to be traveling alone. We exchanged travel stories, as one does, and they recommended I visit a tea plantation.

To clarify, I am not a tea drinker. Or a coffee drinker. I will consider a hot chocolate but that is the extent of my hot beverage palate. However, thanks to British colonizers, the highlands of Sri Lanka are very much tea country. The famous train ride I was taking the next day was made possible by the need to transport tea. If ever I was going to visit a tea plantation, this was it. 

At Sanjeewa's suggestion and with his brother as my tuk-tuk driver/ guide/ designated photographer, we set off for the Halpe Tea factory.

I happened to arrive on a day when production was not taking place. Perhaps the employees were all out boozing it up after that Poya fiasco but it didn't really matter.

We were lucky enough to get the head of production as our guide. This man had more passion for tea than most people have for life itself. He went deep, like scientific cellular dimensions of the tea leaves deep to explain the process for us. And let me tell you, between the sorting and the drying and the shaking (there are shaking machines!!) and the grinding, it truly is a journey.

Had they sold that sign in the gift shop, I would have added a dozen to my cart.

As with all tours of this type, it culminated with a tasting portion. I don't know if it was my new found appreciation for the process, the extreme freshness of the product or just a deep desire to not disappoint our enthusiastic guide, but I did honestly like it. So much so that I did half of my Xmas shopping in the gift shop, meaning I lugged a lot of tea around Sri Lanka. 

Hopped up on a strong tea buzz- the result of me never drinking caffeinated products of any kind- I was not ready to go back and relax at the hostel. My guide suggested checking out the Dhowa rock temple. This 2000 yr + temple is said to have been the hiding place of King Walagamba during foreign invasions. He may or may not have begun the work of carving a half-finished 39 foot Buddha into the rock itself. 

Noticing that a giant rock Buddha had not had the desired calming effect on me, my guide suggested that we go check out the nine arches bridge. Why is this famous bridge so high on the everyone's list of must do's in Ella? I have no fricking clue. It is indeed a rail bridge and although I didn't bother to count, I'm ok stating that there are nine arches. It is set amongst tea plantations, making for a potentially very scenic pic. While there, I saw an IG influencer type and her hapless photographer crawling through pretty dense foliage with tons of camera gear, trying to get that perfect shot. 

Well, not *the* perfect shot. That would only be possible at certain times, when an ancient brightly painted train passes over the bridge. We were there twenty minutes prior to a scheduled arrival and joined the crowd- a crowd!!! around 100 people!!- in waiting with wholly undeserved anticipation for this thing. 

And it gets better. The damn thing was late. Local cops, who were being besieged by queries as to the train's whereabouts dejectedly reported that the last depot had stopped answering their phone so there was no way to know when the train had left or more importantly, when it would be crossing the 9 arches bridge. After waiting for an hour, I was ready to admit defeat and head back home. My guide bought me a mango and suggested I wait a bit longer.  I should point out that I was paying him an agreed upon price, there was no kind of meter running. We were now here due solely to his civic pride and determination that I  not leave Ella without that shot. 

An an hour and a half after its expected ETA, the blue choo-choo finally came into view. We all elbowed each other for that day's IG post. Selfie sticks were thrust to and fro. Within a couple of minutes, it was all over and the crowd dispersed. 

I don't know that it was worth the wait and jostling but I did get a pretty cool photo out of it.

It had been a full day. Hiking, ziplining, a tea tour, a big ol' Buddha and finally the nine arches bridge shot. The caffeine had finally worn off and it was time to return to my happy hippy hostel. I would be back on these tracks early the next morning, only this time I would be aboard the train, making my way to my next stop, the historic city of Kandy.