Sri Lanka

My parents were both born in Sri Lanka. And considering the time (I shall omit the exact date), the schooling options were pretty limited for English children. They were both sent to the same school (the Hill School) in Nuwara Eliya at a very young age, my mom was 8, my dad 6. They weren’t in the same year and didn’t know each other (although my dad likes to claim otherwise), even though there were only a few hundred or so kids in attendance. However, there is a school photograph of my mom standing behind my dad. By complete coincidence, twenty something years later they met in Liverpool. Considering the history, my parents decided that a “trip down memory lane” family holiday was in order, so Pete, Rach, and I could see where they grew up.  So off we went on our first family holiday in about eight years (cue face palm).

Me, Pete, and Rach and at Doha Airport

We arrived in Colombo and stayed the first night in Negombo, on the west coast of the island. We went in July, so unfortunately monsoon season for this side of the country. We immediately set off the next day cutting right across the country heading east. We stopped for a few nights outside Habarana so we could “climb” slash walk to the top of the Sigiriya Rock (“Lion’s Rock”). A large stone and ancient rock fortress and palace ruin which is surrounded by the remains of an extensive network of gardens, reservoirs, and other structures. Coated in ancient frescos, the history of the rock is painted across the surface of the stone through intricate drawings and designs. We spent an extremely interesting afternoon learning about the history of the area. From there we hit up Trincomalee. Plagued by civil war, the small town is only just starting to piece itself back together. My dad spent many a childhood here and so was adamant we went. Our resort – Chaaya Blu, Trincomalee – was situated on the outskirts of the affected area and was absolutely beautiful. Picture postcard beautiful, think golden beaches and turquoise waters.

Sigiriya Rock

Chaaya Blu, Trincomalee

Train ride to Nuwara Eliya

Filming location for 'The Bridge on the River Kwai' 

Galle

We then moved southwards and across up to the hill country, so we could be shown where my parents went to school and where my dad grew up. The further we moved inland, the colder it got. Shorts and t-shirts were quickly swapped for jeans and hoodies. We were lucky enough to see the tea plantations my grandfather managed, and were even allowed to walk around the house my dad grew up in. Remnants of the Innes family were still there in the form of a framed poster my grandfather had hung showing all the Scottish clans (including the Innes family). We had also intended to climb Adam’s Peak but upon arrival at the lodgings we were going to set off from, we were told that it was shrouded in mist and was too dangerous.

At this point, Pete headed off back to the UK and we carried on. From the hill country, we continued to move westwards and head down to Hikkaduwa. As a lot of the journey had been spent in a mini bus bouncing over very rough roads, a welcome break of three days was met with much relief. My mom grew up in Galle so we were nicely located for a day trip down south. The sun had returned, so we spent a lot of time swimming in the pool (unfortunately not the sea as the tides were too strong), exploring the area and just generally relaxing. We spent one day in Galle, sightseeing and just generally looking round my mom’s old haunts, including her old house.  

The trip went far too quickly – standard holiday’ness – and unfortunately after Galle we drove back to Colombo and headed home. Back to Doha. And the bastard summer.