Habarana, Sri Lanka
"Where will you be on the 8th?" asks our concierge over breakfast. "Kandy", we say. "That is good, make sure you are back to your hotel before 5 o'clock. It's election day and there will be a curfew that night so stay safe!!"
Hmmm, not quite we had that in mind when we booked this trip many moons ago. In fact, on the evening of the 8th we're due to be visiting the Relic of Buddha's Tooth, one of the most sacred temples on earth and a potential flashpoint for civil unrest if the President refuses to leave without a fight. Bloody politics getting in the way of our hols... Have they no consideration?!??
Apparently the elections have been brought forward as the president's astrologer has advised him he has a better chance of winning if he holds the elections before Pope Francis arrives and preaches against corruption and in favour of social justice and the rights of the poor. I don't think you need an astrologer to predict that.
We're setting off on a long drive to Habarana in the centre of the island, and our base to explore the so-called Cultural Triangle of ancient cities - Sigirya, Polonnurawa and Anadphura, of which we only have time for the first two. As we drive past the parliament we see the president's helicopter on the ground ready to take him out on the last day of campaigning, as by law there must be 48 hours between the end of the campaign and the actual election to give people time to reflect. It's not helped by the fact that the state has huge influence over the media and the opposition gets very little coverage.
This time however, the leader of the opposition was the general secretary to the President who jumped ship a month ago and is now viewed as a hero for the common man. He has aligned himself with the party which the Bandaranaike family represents and has declared he will end the politics of greed and nepotism. All along the roads we travel there are campaign posters for the president, even the obligatory baby-kissing shots, and mass rallies of poor rural women in his favour, bussed out under threat of losing their meagre state handouts if they do not take to the streets to demonstrate their support.
There are no posters for the opposition on display but as we drive through Nittambuwa, the parliamentary seat of the Bandaranaike's, we finally see some public opposition to the President. He daren't have them taken down, situated as they are opposite the tombs and memorials of the two greatest heads of state since Sri Lanka gained independence.
Now and again we see police and military cavalcades as ministers are driven around the country campaigning and Kingsley tells us that they need armed protection even now that the war with the Tamils has ended. Even the ministers themselves carry pistols for protection.
We drive for hours along the Kandy road passing through the town of Kadawatha where Kingsley lives, which apparently means "stall village", as it's a market town. For miles and miles there are roadworks as they widen the carriageway, with houses being demolished to make way for better transport links, and as we continue we pass through lots of such places including “inflatable village”, which sells inflatable toys, “pineapple village” and “cashew village”, where Coman asks to stop so we can buy fresh cashews – unfortunately at a ridiculously 'inflatable’ price .
The whole way Kingsley talks and talks, telling us more about politics, education, employment, local issues and more. When we get back in the car after a break for coffee I tell him I work in the music business and we'd love to hear some local Singhalese radio so he obliges and for a while the commentary is halted.
Our next stop is an elephant orphanage called Pinnawela, where we see a herd of elephants at close quarters, and watch while little calves are bottle-fed. While there is admirable work being done by the government to help sustain the elephant population and rescue those who have been abandoned by their herds, we both find the experience rather depressing.
Hordes of tourists clamour for a chance to touch the baby elephants and wave their tickets at the staff shouting for their turn to bottle-feed them, for which they’ve paid an extra supplement. Coach-parties and families almost trample each other in a bid to get closer to these poor, sad-faced creatures and we tell Kingsley we’d like to leave. He’s a little surprised but to be honest, we felt the commercial elephant ride in India was a better experience; this seems like a petting zoo for foreigners desperate for a photo opportunity.
The next stage of the journey is beautiful as we head down properly rural back roads, away from traffic and through tiny villages and jaw-dropping scenery. Many of the roads were impassable just a few days ago as there was unseasonable rain, with an unheard of third monsoon hitting the country in December, traditionally a dry month and another indicator of the massive shifts in climate that are happening worldwide. We’ve missed torrential storms by only 48 hours and the roads are potholed and heavily damaged in parts.
We finally stop for a late lunch in a town called Kurunegala around 3pm, by which point we’re starving. We sit by a lake which is in fact a rainwater reservoir and would not usually be so full. However the rains have brought it back to levels normally seen in other times of the year and we must confess it’s beautiful, attracting bird life, and even a serpent eagle circling overhead.
Finally around 6.30pm we approach Habarana, where the Cinnamon Lodge, our hotel for the next three nights is located. The radio warns us that wild elephants have been spotted on the road ahead but the only sign of them is fresh heaps of dung and we make it to the hotel unscathed.
Cinnamon Lodge is a resort style hotel set in 27 acres with its own lake. Our room is set in a little cottage complex amongst trees and gardens. The hotel caters to package tours of English, German, French and Japanese tourists, and various honeymooners who also seem to make up the numbers. Kingsley is staying in the drivers’ quarters, which are akin to stable blocks, set further up the driveway away from the paying guests.
After our very personal, boutique style experiences so far, this large international-style resort takes some adjustment, and we’re initially somewhat deflated by the experience. However, it’s the first place where we’re staying for three nights and means we can finally unpack properly and not live out of our bags.
Dinner is served buffet-style in a huge restaurant with some easy-listening electric guitar accompaniment. Heaps of Western food sit alongside lukewarm curries that have been simmering for the past hour or two and in our knackered states after an almost nine hour journey we’re rather dismissive of the whole experience.
But mindful of the fact we’ve only just arrived we decide to reserve judgement until tomorrow, tucking into a very nice noodle broth that a chef makes specially for us, and sipping a Lion beer and a gin and tonic, whilst looking out on a large swimming pool that suggests a spot of sunbathing may soothe our cares away.
We’ve been rather spoilt after all…
