More on beach holidays (and suitcases).

Ah yes, Galle, the torrential rainfall and the little, hissing, angry, clapping man…that was where we left off. And now to continue…

The next day dawned gray and soggy. Complain, we did not…much anyway. No, it was a wonderful excuse to sleep in, read in bed, extend our collaborate role as Shireen’s Danish boyfriend and enjoy a leisurely breakfast of French toast and croissants. By the time the last smattering of strawberry jam had disappeared and the last of the coffee had been drunk, the sun had decided to join us and all was well.

We strolled on the beach, met an elephant and a couple of horses and went tromping through the sea-side boutiques. The elephant stood out somewhat and Al and I decided to take a leap of faith and pet it. Trust me when I say that elephants look a whole lot larger when you’re standing directly under their trunks than they do on TV. However, the elephant was very good about it all, and endured the furtive taps rather well.

There is only so much a girl can do when she is faced with tens upon hundreds of silky, swirly, beautifully embroidered wraps in every color fluttering in the wind. These can also be conveniently sewn into dresses of your choice for prices that makes cough drops sound expensive, and so levels of self-control averaged at about 0.3 on the Richter scale. Needless to say, our persons will always be welcome back at the Beruwella oceanfront, as helping to keep the Sri Lankan economy afloat became one of our greatest accomplishments.

After a dip by the reef, a spree in the pool, a few written postcards and several Pina Coladas (did we mention we got a terrific deal on the all-inclusive option? We did, thanks to my highly efficient father, and we made sure his efforts were not in vain) it was Bingo time. Now Bingo is all well and good when the man reading out the numbers avoids trying to cause an uproar with every number that pops out of the little behandled globe. Unfortunately we had that man.

“Noooow this next number…is….my AGE…!” (Insert terrific enthusiasm)

silence

“Guess!”

Predominant silence. A few murmurs.

“Guess!! Guess! Guess!!”

Feeble, solo attempt of “28” from the back.

“NOOOOOOO! FIFTEEN!!! HAHAHAHAHAH…Joke, joke…one…five…number one…number five…but that’s not my age...” (Insert sly, knowing smile)

Nicky was just about under the table by the time we got to number 97. The Colada’s helped.

Our next adventure was Colombo – the big city, shopping galore and temperatures that would turn the arctic tropical. Shezzie, Al and I stayed with Auntie Agnes who was a doll about allowing us to crash at her place for the night. All was dandy until Auntie Agnes left for work and we left the house an hour later – only to realize that not only were we locked in the gate but out of the house. With a suitcase that weighed about as much as a minivan. No matter, it was but a leap over the gate, with the suitcase being hiked up shakily behind me and tipped over the edge, followed by Al and Shez, the former of which ended up on the gate post with the later clutching eagerly for a foothold with her feet. Eventually we, suitcase included, made it safely to the ground. Panting slightly and having broken a glow, we smiled rather smugly at each other until we turned around to face a small bushel of girls and a slightly alarmed looking Sister staring at us from the convent opposite. Little nuns in training and we had probably scarred them for life.

We met my parents shortly after (post being thrown out of our second church this vacation by a fool man in an awful shirt – it was quite obviously not our best run for churches that week) and proceeded to get ourselves a couple of visas and shop till we should shop no more.

Shezzie decided that she was feeling left out. So in she went. Clothes and all.

We made it home tanned to a respectable degree, several books read, much sleep caught up on and crab legs sampled. Truly scrumptious.

So much love,

Alisa and Steph

On beach holidays and dutch forts.

We’re back! Apologies for being gone for so long. Steph and I decided to participate in a fun little experiment called “living without technology for five days” and we passed with flying colors. Feel free to send notes of congratulations and presents for accomplishing this feat to Steph’s parents’ house. Consequently, being without technology means we haven’t had a chance to update the blog and we have quite a bit to catch you up on.

Packing brings out the worst in us.

We had to renew our visas, it’s hard to believe we’ve been here for a month, and decided to sneak in a beach trip on the way. Our trip began at the crack of dawn on the 6 am train from Kandy to Colombo. The train was quite the experience—we spent a good portion of it hanging out of the car doors admiring the scenery and attempting to capture it on film. We were those annoying tourists who took pictures of everything from our seats to the British tourists we befriended.

We had a brief chance to appreciate the humidity of Colombo while waiting for Steph’s family and then we all squeezed into the backseat of the car and got to know one another real well.

Upon arrival at the beach we were so exhausted we promptly spent the first three hours of our holiday napping. Apparently in sleep Steph and I resemble Shireen’s Danish boyfriend—who knew. After naps we explored the beach and indulged in an extensive buffet before turning in again.

Crabs?

Our second day at the beach we got up early to enjoy the sun before the afternoon rains rolled in. We did all sorts of beachy things like swimming in the ocean, body-boarding, reading in the sun, walking on the shore, swimming in the pool, and such.

For Hannie.

That afternoon we decided to drive to Galle and visit the fort (mostly because Steph wanted to visit the turtle farm on the way—but the sudha prices were a bit much for us to swallow so we left without seeing the baby turtles).

At Galle we explored the fort. The most exciting part of our day was almost getting kicked out of the church. We were happily wandering around, snapping pictures and admiring the history, when we heard a rush of feet accompanied by clapping and hissing coming in our direction—apparently it’s against the rules to take photos inside the church. Shireen pretended she hadn’t heard and continued to take pictures until the man noticed and informed her, “you pay 100 rupees you take 100 pictures”. After we photographed everything possible we vacated the premises before we could get into anymore trouble (we also were reprimanded for climbing the stairs before we left). The church and the torrential downpour we experienced served as a memorable conclusion to our Galle trip and we headed back.

Love,

Alisa and Steph

On trips of epic proportion - Day 2: Part 1.

Scene 1: Sea, Sand, Sun and Starfish...and the occasional Shark.

Alisa:

After a solid night’s rest and quick cup of coffee we were off to Trinco. We arrived relatively early thanks to the new road and our timely departure from Habarana (who knows Steph and I may be reformed into morning people). Once arriving we made a quick stop to change into our swimsuits and then it was off to the beach. I think we used up almost all three bottles of sunscreen Steph’s mom sent, and made us promise to use, before gathering our gear and boating to Pigeon Island.

On the island we spent the entire afternoon happily snorkeling, well mostly happily after I got over my initial fear of the ocean. Years and years of being warned against the dangers of swimming in the ocean, not to mention the numbing temperature of the Oregon coast, are hard to forget. It completely defied my common sense to learn that it is okay, fun even, to venture into the ocean past my knees. But once I realized I could get into the water without risk of hypothermia, I had a dandy time.

We even saw a shark; and by we I mean Bala, Steph, and Melissa saw a shark. I did get to see lots of cool coral and fish so I’m not too upset I missed out on the shark.

After approximately six hours of snorkeling, sunning, eating, and talking to friendly folks who were enamored with our white, or in Steph’s case pink, skin we headed back to the mainland. At the hotel speedy showers, outfits picked specifically to barely touch sun-toasted bodies, philosophical conversations, much needed drinks, a lively game of Never Have I Ever, and an expansive buffet occurred before we tucked ourselves in at the unheard of hour of ten. I don’t think any of us moved until a loud knock on the door summoned us for an early morning ocean swim. A quick dip in the pool and breakfast followed before we headed home—only stopping once to quench Steph’s craving for Jucieez.

Steph:

Im just going to add a side note here real fast to let you know that should you ever, ever visit the motherland…know that Roots does not hold a match to Juiceez. My soul has been wanting Juiceez’s lovingly concocted nectar of the gods since it left the land of our forefathers years ago…and they tried to tell me that Roots had juice that was just as good. Lies and deception. No fear, my soul was satisfied with the best lime juice it has had the pleasure of drinking down in far too long. Happy happy day. Also, when Al said “pink”, she was being kind. I was the approximate shade of a feverish crayon and felt like an overdone kebab. But you know what, it was the most worth-while sun burn I have ever sported.

Furthermore, it was our delight to come back to our room to find that our beds had been strewn with flowers...my favorite flowers none the less. At any rate, it was better than Bala's situation, who had had his beach towel neatly arranged in the shape of an origami heart upon his covers. How utterly presh.

Below I included a picture of ol' faithful...the jeep that carried us through thick and thin. It deserved a special mention.

One of the best and most jam-packed three-day trips in history.

Seriously.

Love,

Alisa and Steph