View from the bungalow

Heading for the Hills

It’s been more than a week since my last entry but life has a habit of taking over sometimes. I’ll do better next time.  Recently I had a friend visiting and he suggested going to ‘the hills’ –‘ the hills’ being the hill country in Sri Lanka where tea estates, mist, ‘Scottish’ bungalows and sheer drops abound. In colonial days during April and May when the heat in Colombo became unbearable, all self- respecting colonists  headed for the hills to cool off in the much lower temperatures.  This was my first attempt to travel to somewhere other than my house or flat with my mum.  Even before we left, there were ominous signs. The map I picked up hastily before leaving Unawatuna turned out to be for the UK.

The journey itself didn’t get off to a good start. All packed and ready to leave from Colombo, mum decided she didn’t want to go to ‘the hills’. “I can’t run up and down hills,” she said, “Go on your own”.  I knew the look on her face. There would be no persuading her otherwise and any attempt would just make matters worse and she would dig in her heels. I looked at my friend who was patiently waiting; as a social worker whose clientele consisted of older people, he was sympathetic.  Eventually I got her on the move by agreeing that she should go to visit Flora and that I would drop her off on route.   Flora lives in Edinburgh and not on route to Haputale. However secure in the knowledge that she would forget the reason for the trip we set off  – sometimes memory loss can be handy.  She refused to put on her shoes and so she left with her slippers on.  Once on the move she settled down.  We tried to stop in Ratnapura, famous for its gems, on route for lunch.  Knowing that the local rice and curry would not be suitable I pulled up outside a Pizza Hut, surprised that one existed in the town.  She refused to get out, again telling us to go on and leave her in the car. As the car was on a busy street and it was midday and very hot, that did not seem like a solution so we continued on.

The car climbed steadily through Pelmadulla and on to Balangoda.  Belihuloya not far outside Balangoda, has a good government ‘rest house’ (left over from the colonial days) situated at a waterfall – a popular stop for refreshments. Pretty hungry by now, my friend and I agreed this would be a good place to stop.  I made a mental note to pack sandwiches on any long trip the next time. We pulled up outside the rest house and waterfall only to be told by the waiter that the whole place had been booked by a wedding party and they could provide us with nothing.  On we went.  From Belihuloya to Haputale (our final destination) was another hour or so. My back, not used to 6 hour drives, was beginning to ache. The scenery by this time was stunning. We really were up in the hills. Tea grew on the side of the road. The sheer drops down the side of the road made me thankful we were not on that side. Then we were in Haputale.

Working on vague memories of the direction to the tea estate bungalows we were booked into, our luck began to change. We got it right first time or rather my friend did. Still climbing we wound our way round the tiny roads that threaded their way through tea country. And there it was – Kelburn! Turn right off the road and down a very bumpy road and you arrive at the main bungalow.  Mum’s face lit up when her door was opened by young Ravi, our butler for the next 3 days. She could have been a lady from the colonial days (albeit still in her slippers) as Ravi offered her his hand and with a big grin welcomed her to Kelburn. The cook, the manager, the other workers, all were on hand to greet us. Just as well really as the steps down to Wild Flower where we were staying were steep and uneven and mum needed Ravi on one side and one of the other helpers on the other side to manoevre her down to the cottage. On seeing the steps I decided that if she managed down we would just stay down until we had to climb back up to leave. All thoughts of visiting Bandarawella for lunch or going shopping in Haputale flew off over the tea.

Sitting on our verandah with its dramatic views over the tea estate eating our sandwiches and drinking the estate tea, we all started to chill out. It was a very lazy three days. Mum loved the attention of Ravi who helped moved her from place to place and was on hand to serve her breakfast, lunch and dinner. I loved not having to prepare anything or tidy anything up. Reading books and magazines, doing crosswords, playing cards, taking photos and posting them on Facebook, watching the log fire (again fixed by the unshakable Ravi)  in the evening, it was a peaceful, relaxing time. Food was good and plentiful, it was sunny most of the time, the bungalow was spacious and comfortable. And the day we left mum was helped up the steps by the same two who had helped her down.  We left vowing to come back for more- but next time we would stay in one of the other bungalows that didn’t have so many steps.