Sigiriya – The Rock
My next day trip out from Kandy was to the ancient rock fortress of Sigiriya. This was built around 477AD – eat your heart out, Stratford Upon Avon! It was the brainchild of King Kasyapa, who intended it as an impenetrable protection against invasion. All I can say is, it worked. After just about managing to get there and back in one piece, I can say for sure that there is no way I would have done it with weapons and stuff. Rather, I’d have been the one at the bottom, offering to look after the horses while my more robust colleagues climbed up. I’m not daft.
Unless I wanted to pay my life’s savings on a private car to take me there, Sigiriya was a bus ride away from Kandy. No problem. I’d dutifully checked at the tourist information place the day before, and was told that there was a bus leaving at 8am, took 2.5 hours, would take me right there, and then would leave again for Kandy at 3pm. This was music to my ears. The first indication that the day would not go to plan was when I got to the bus station and found the bus left not at 8am, but at 7.45am. Anyone who has had the undoubtable pleasure of travelling with me, Miss Obsessionally-Early, will know without me having to tell them that I was already at the bus station by 7.15, so the change in schedule, rather than bothering me, made me feel slightly smug. In a not-at-all annoying way, obviously.
I got a seat, and watched as the bus slowly filled up. And when I say filled up, I mean there were people hanging out the doors, pressed up against the window, using every available space. It was now clear where sardine packers got the idea from. Sitting next to me was a guy in his 60s, who, it turned out, spoke excellent English. He was a retired banker now living in Kandy, and took the opportunity to tell me all about the countryside we were going through.
I’ve found with Sri Lankan people that they are either super, ridiculously nice and helpful, or that they want to hassle me. It’s been one of the surprises about this country, that I’ve actually got more hassle here from people (usually men) than in India. I was expecting it to be the other way round, and thought this would be much more chilled out. Mostly it can be brushed off, but sometimes – Kandy seemed to be the worst place for it – it could get slightly intimidating, and I was always glad to be with other people, which is the first time I’ve felt like this so far on this trip. So the upshot of all this hassle is, I’m always slightly wary at first when people start to talk to me, as I’m not entirely sure which way the conversation could go. Fortunatlely, this time, my travelling companion turned out to be one of the extra nice, welcoming people, and took so much time out of his day to make sure that I was happy, safe, and enjoying Sigiriya.
When it was time to get off the bus, I double-checked with the conductor that the bus was at 3pm. “No, no, no”, he told me. Confused, I asked when the bus actually did leave. “Tomorrow morning” was the gruff response. This didn’t exactly pacify me – I had only a small bag, all my things were in Kandy, I had a hotel at Kandy, and I had a ticket for an early train from Kandy the next morning. So I simply refused to get off the bus until I had a better answer. It was so much fun (not at the time, but in retrospect) – the driver was shouting at me to get off, I was refusing to until someone explained how I could get back to Kandy that night. Turns out there was a way, if I took 3 different buses and changed. I wasn’t delighted, half expecting myself to end up Malaysia or Milton Keynes or somewhere, but realised it was my only option. I jumped down off the bus and it sped away, Dukes of Hazard style.
It took about 20 minutes to walk from the gate round to the ticket office and entrance, but it was a lovely walk along the moat (I didn’t take the opportunity to have a dip, though, as I was told there were crocodiles in there). The most obvious thing then, and all day long, was just how empty it was. Imagining similar tourist attractions, say, in Europe, or the USA, it’s impossible to conceive that they wouldn’t be packed from dawn to dusk, with all sorts of “Sigiriya Experience” shops and museums and the like. It was rather lovely to have the place so completely deserted.
The entrance fee was the most shocking thing so far – a whopping $20 (twenty!!!) US DOllars, 2040 Rupees. Especially galling as they were running the standard ‘Sri Lankans get in for 1 rupee’ trick. Normally I don’t mind paying a bit more, especially when you think about the relative economies, but this was quite chockingly high. More than the Taj Mahal, more, I think, than any other tourist place I’ve been to, at home or away. Still, no way round it, so I gritted my teeth and went on through the gate. I had to swat away a fairly persistent tout on the way, but finally managed to convince him I preferred my own company that day.
The walk through the gardens is pretty stunning. Either side are symmetrical water gardens that lead up in terraces, and, right above you, rising so high in the sky it’s impossible to see the fortress – or anything – on the top, is the rock itself, 200m high. I put the fact that I would have to climb it out of my mind, and enjoyed the walk. The stair soon started, though. There are 2000 of them in total, and believe me, I felt every single one of them. They are quite steep, and in some places without a handrail or anything to hold on to, which made me smile to think of the safety standards that would be imposed elsewhere.
Halfway up the rock, there is a spectacular gallery full of painted frescoes, depicting many Sigiriya Damsels. Sort of 5th Century Sri Lankan Page 3 girls, I suppose, as most of them are in a state of undress. The colours are just gorgeous, and the detail is beautiful, especially as, looking round, there was no obvious way for the painter to get up there. Just below the gallery is the Mirror Wall, with graffiti from the 6th to the 14th century on it, all in Sinhala, which I am obviously fluent in after two weeks in the country, so I can tell you they comment on the frescoes, and say things like “As I have seen the resplendent ladies, heaven appears to me as not good”. The 6th century equivalent of “She’s a bit of alright”.
After this, the climb gets really fun, dividing into two narrow stairways with steps built right up to the side of the rick, at times just a few inches wide. By now as well it was about mid-day, so starting to get unbelievably hot. Finally we turned a corner, and realised we’d made it to the castle on the top. I tell you, that King Kasyapa must have been one dickens of a motivator, to get all his various slaves not only to build the thing, but then to run up and down carrying food and dancing girls and DVDs and whatever else kept a 5th century King happy. The top was pretty deserted, like the rest of the complex, and I got my friend to take a delightful picture of me at the top, bright red, looking like I’d taken a bath in my clothes, and hair flying every which way because of the wind.
Coming down was so much more fun than going up, unsurprisingly, and much quicker. It also was my second opportunity of the day to look smug (how I enjoy that) as I passed people still on their way up, and said encouraging, if intensely annoying, things to them like “Not much further – only about another 500 steps” or “The view from the top is lovely, in daylight”.
Getting back to Kandy was another expedition in itself, and I’m sure that, had it not been for my friend who looked after me and got me on the right buses, I would not have got there ok. Turns out he was one of the best things about the day. As I was leaving for Ella the next morning, he turned up at the station with a bag of fruit for me. So in the end my day at Sigiriya, and my friend, were real delights.
Tags: Sri Lanka, Travel
Suzanne
Hi Suze, I’m very proud of you (and think you’re getting very brave) sitting it out on the bus until you got the required answer. Obviously all those assertiveness courses haven’t gone to waste. I think I’d have just started crying.
Did you count the 2000 steps???
Love you.
Mum
Suzie,
I hate to be the one to tell you this, but not only did those pesky Sri Lankan’s charge you the full tourist entrance fee of 2040 Rupees… they didn’t even show you where the lift to the top was. Shocking behaviour. As soon as I’ve finished reading the latest of your blog updates I’m going to write a letter of complaint to the Sri Lankan Embassy and Caroline and I have already vowed to stop buying Sri Lankan products in protest.
That’ll learn ’em.
Love
Michael
Another delight — reading your story! I agree with Mum, I would probably have ended up stranded there or in some village, lacking the assertiveness to Get the Facts. But the rest sounded marvellous!