Adventure Sri Lanka

After a last loot in India (for 5400 Indian Rupees, an exchange fee of 2000 IR is charged), my anticipation for Sri Lanka is boundless. Only a 20 hour flight separates me from this destination. And the best part: my beloved Simone is already waiting for me there. After nearly an hour of delay, we embrace each other and begin the adventure of Sri Lanka together. We shake off several tuk-tuk drivers and find the right bus to Colombo. It is already full, so we take seats in the front next to the bus driver and enjoy the best view. My temporary seat strongly resembles those small foldable child seats on German trains.

I immediately like the city of Colombo. There are many cars and even more buses, but it is much cleaner and there is no burning of garbage. There is even a certain orderliness and the people are not too pushy. The shops are lined up next to each other, so we are completely surprised by the red mosque. It nestles against the neighboring buildings and opens up a completely different world. A visitor entrance provides floor-length, brown robes for women, leaving only the head uncovered. It's a wonder that it doesn't have a hood too. We are allowed to look around in a limited area and catch a glimpse of the prayer room. Only men are allowed to pray here. We finish our city tour in darkness and see some decorative lights from the Diwali festival. Unfortunately, the traditional oil lamps are only used sparingly, so light chains adorn the temples and streets. Thankfully, no firecrackers are lit here.

In the morning, we set off for the train. We have already bought the ticket the day before. After standing in a stationary line for half an hour, we decide to get a third-class ticket without waiting. A nice woman on the platform prepares us a little for the future event. She tells us where to position ourselves and that we have to fight for our (reserved) seats. With these words, we now stand on the filling platform and wait for the approaching train. As soon as it is visible, the battle for a seat begins. Simone and I freeze and look incredulously. Even while the train is rolling, the doors are thrown open from both sides and people are pushing inside. After the flash, we both rush in. By chance, we enter the correct compartment of our seat numbers. Of course, they are already taken. Okay, I am prepared: I shout, "these are our seats" and wave the reservation. No one reacts! A nice gentleman next to me calmly explains that we are in the wrong compartment. After what feels like minutes, I finally understand what he is trying to tell me. There is the third class without and with reservations. So we are indeed in the wrong place and now have to go through several compartments. Easier said than done! It is incredibly crowded, and only sheer determination keeps us moving forward, with 100% body contact with strangers unavoidable. Within seconds, Simone and I are separated by several meters and about 50 people. After passing the first coach, I learn that we cannot continue like this. The door from the free to the reserved compartment is locked. Simone is at the exit, and if we don't want to stand in the smallest space for the next few hours, we have to get off the train and walk along the platform. Between us are two Germans who take the initiative and follow us on our way. It's not so easy to get out of the overcrowded train. The backpacks keep getting tangled up and prevent quick or easier progress. When we reach the door, I push with all my strength through the crowd to pull my backpack. Finally outside, we sprint to the last coach, jump in, and 10 seconds later the train departs. After this sardine-can experience, third class is a relief. Our seats are free, right by the window, and with a fan. So the anticipated struggle does not occur. This is fun, and we still can't believe that we actually made it on time.

Arriving in Kandy, we experience quite a surprise. After a short break in the hotel, we want to explore the city. The locals here eat very spicy, and even if we inquire if there is something non-spicy to eat, our mouths burn again afterwards. Apparently, a stuffed chili pepper is considered not spicy here. But hunger drives us to eat. We want to visit the Tooth Temple and fail due to the wrong clothing... or rather, I do. The knees and shoulders must be covered with fabric. Both are exposed on me... not surprising given the warm temperatures. So we decide to come back tomorrow and instead go to the nearby viewpoint. However, we end up in a cemetery with several monkeys and visitors. We turn back and go down a small side path until we are stopped by a Sri Lankan who also wants to know something from us. At that moment, a monkey comes rushing from behind and snatches the bag with the spices and passion fruits that we had just bought. I am so shocked and can't believe it. However, we resign ourselves to our fate and leave the loot to the monkeys. I give away our souvenirs so easily because just seconds before, Simone had told me about an experience with a tourist who didn't want to let go of his camera, was scratched by a monkey, and contracted rabies. So we prefer to go to the market again and buy the items again. After all, the wiser one gives in ;)