Publié: 03.10.2023
After more than 2½ weeks inland and adventures in the jungle and mountains, we were now heading to the coast. First to the east coast to Arugam Bay. The previously touristic place on the island that I had visited and I first had to get used to everyday beach life and the different lifestyle of the backpackers here.
Everyday life actually consisted of:
Get up at 5:30 a.m. to go sunrise surfing
8:00 a.m. Have breakfast, lie around in the hammock, do crossword puzzles, read and sleep
Have lunch at 1:00 p.m. and go back to the same activities or fax with other people
4:00 p.m. Surf until sunset
7:00 p.m. Dinner and then partying, playing cards or just chatting
And repeat the same for 1½ weeks.
So more than relaxed! But this relaxation was also the biggest thorn in my side. I was used to walking or driving around a lot every day and experiencing new things and now I was sitting here lazily for ¾ of the day. Nevertheless, I was able to enjoy it, especially with the thought that India would be waiting for me in 1½ weeks.
I met nice travelers with whom I learned to surf like complete amateurs and I have to say, it's really fun! You rub your inner thighs, your belly button, your knees and the skin just below your sternum bloody, you bruise your pubic bone and your costal arch until you think they're sprained, you apply the sun-protecting zinc ointment so thickly on your face that you look like that Castle ghost, is thrown around by the waves like in a washing machine until a sandy beach of its own has formed on the scalp and lies 90% of the time just in the water or on the board and tries in vain to fight the waves.
Nevertheless, the 10% of the time when you manage to catch and ride a wave are so much fun that you always look past the disadvantages like a demented person. And the last few days went so well that I would just say that I can surf a little. Even though it looks very easy to stand on this board and let yourself drift, it is a real game of skill, consisting of the right timing, the ability to judge wave development, balance and the ability to control your board as if it were your own a flat foot.
After a few fun evenings with other surfing amateurs, but also more advanced surfers, a day trip to a crocodile lake, during which, in my opinion, a local took me far too close to these dinosaur-like giants, I then set off on a nine-hour bus ride the south coast.
The bus trips deserve at least their own sales in Sri Lanka. It is in no way just a means of transportation, it is an insight into the country's culture, a near-death experience adventure and a madhouse all in one. The buses have spoilers and are so colorful both from the outside and the inside that you couldn't even imagine with LSD. With stickers depicting monster trucks, motorcycles, muscular men and awe-struck women posing in front of an explosion, it doesn't feel like you're boarding public transportation, but rather a 9-year-old boy's favorite Hotwheel. In the bus itself there are plush furs in turquoise and pink tones lying around and the Buddha statue next to the driver flashes with its LEDs like the best light show at a rave in Berlin. In addition to the disco ball hanging from the ceiling (this is in no way a joke!!), there are huge subwoofers and speakers in the luggage rack throughout the bus, which blast Indian Bollywood music 24/7 at a volume similar to the decibel level of a jackhammer. The timetables are non-existent and the departure times have no system whatsoever. Lucky with timing is the motto here.
With the doors that cannot be closed, the buses now drive through the towns and gravel roads in the middle of nowhere with a constant honking at at least 30km/h above the speed limit. These buses actually never stop. Getting in and out is done with your own skill, not losing your balance, hopping in or out at walking pace. The only times the bus stops is when the bus driver stops in the middle of the route to either pray at a roadside shrine, grab his lunch, or buy the folk drug of firethorn berry to maintain his high.
I have now decided that I will never complain about German railways again.
When I arrived in Merissa, the monsoon season that was still taking place in the south greeted me with first-class tropical rain. I booked a party hostel and spent the next 3 nights celebrating at full moon and jungle parties in the rain with oriental and raggae techno. After spending the days frustratedly talking about the waves with a Canadian woman I met at the beginning of the trip, I moved on to Weligama. Here the weather was a little better, the waves were surfable and the people in the hostel were pretty polite. There I met two Germans with whom I developed the tradition of sitting on the beach in the evening and eating a pineapple and chocolate crepe. This dessert was a godsend after four weeks of hearty eating!
Luckily, I had slowly gotten used to the spicy food four months before my departure and was able to enjoy the national cuisine most of the time without succumbing to the spiciness, with a few exceptions of course :D From Kotthu, Curry, Roti, Samosa, Dosa , Dahl, Paratha to Hopper, I loved Sri Lankan cuisine and ate as much as I did in my worst puberty years. I noticed that I was used to high-calorie European food and had to eat more of the low-calorie meals here to compensate.
Now I'm sitting here at the airport in Colombo, I just reluctantly ate a veggie burger with fries at 6:30 in the morning due to a lack of alternatives and because I forgot my breakfast in the TukTuk at 4:30 this morning due to my tiredness, and I'm thinking about my arrival later day in India. Anticipation, a sense of adventure, fear and curiosity surround me here on the bench in front of the gate.