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Rocket-fuel arrack on Tamil Thai Pongal Day

Tuesday, November 2nd, 2004

Ten hours of continuous travel brought me back to Kandy. Determined to make my own way back, I took a local bus to Peradeniya and paid the equivalent of a day’s wages for a tuk-tuk to Rob’s house. This was just as well, because there was no sign of Rob. Only John was there to greet me, still in his dressing gown.
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Freaking on the road

Sunday, October 31st, 2004

I was woken by a commotion outside. The road through Ulla is never completely quiet. Irrespective of how few vehicles there are in the area, the odd tuk-tuk, bike and even bus might roar up or down at any hour of the day or night. Where a bus would want to go on a road leading to nowhere but a dirt track through the Yala National Park at three in the morning, I don’t know, but they occasionally rattle past regardless. So hearing a vehicle outside the guesthouse at about half past midnight was not in itself unusual. It was, however, unusual that it was a private hire car full of travellers looking for accommodation.
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Losing the plot

Sunday, October 31st, 2004

I woke up in the doorstep of a room. Not mine, there was no sign of the rucksack, but my bag was next to me. It was dark and quiet. Cursing my stupidity, I crawled under the mosquito net and went back to sleep.
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Arugam Bay

Saturday, October 30th, 2004

In Pottuvil, just across from Arugam Bay, it was clear that I had arrived in backpacker country.
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Batticaloa to Arugam Bay

Friday, October 29th, 2004

Batticaloa is a laid-back town on Sri Lanka’s largest lagoon, made famous by its ‘singing fish’: in the time around the full moon between April and October, the water in the lagoon reverebates with a sound which one traveler described as a ‘continuously maintained single-note guitar-riff’. Nobody knows what causes this sound. The fact that it happens around the full moon during a certain time of year supports the theory that it is linked to the breeding habits of some animal in the lagoon. As it was, I had missed the season of the ‘singing fish’ anyway.
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Running away

Thursday, October 28th, 2004

S and A were due to fly home in two days’ time, so Rob had invited John and me to spend our last ten days at his place. He was keen to pick John’s brains about the mathematical modeling required to analyse waste degradation in his various projects. So keen that he was driving to Negombo especially to pick us up, despite my protests that we could just as easily have taken the bus. At least those two would be busy. In return, I hoped that Rob could somehow hook me up with Dr. J
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A wild goose chase (2)

Wednesday, October 27th, 2004

The lecture was scheduled for six pm, more than five hours away. Enough time for me to get home and change. I was smelly and dusty from rushing across the city. Needless to say, Dr. W, like everybody else on campus, wore clothes which looked like they had just come from the drycleaners.

“Sorry about this”, I said sheepishly, indicating my own crumbled outfit and lied: “Crowded bus with no aircon”. Dr. W smiled understandingly and told me not to worry and come as I was. I gritted my teeth. I was certain that the man could embark on a month-long field trip, deep into the bush with only muddy, croc-infested tanks and rivers to wash in and still look impeccable, wheras I could not even remain clean after a few hours in the city.
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A wild goose chase (1)

Tuesday, October 26th, 2004

I had planned to visit the fish-market in Negombo later in the day, but first it was time to make a few phone calls. Reluctantly. The Sri Lankan phone system remined me of India back in ’85. At times the connection was so appaling that it had put me off ringing my contacts from the south coast — it was going to be hard enough from the Colombo area.
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Curd and Treacle

Monday, October 25th, 2004

On the long drive through the dark back down the Kalpitya peninsula, we started to feel hungry. There was nowhere between here and Palavi where we could stop for food. So we talked about it instead.
“I could do with good Italian pasta.” S said. “With a salad on the side: vine tomatoes, extra virgin olive oil and balsamic vinegar!”
“A big fat juicy steak” John salivated: “Large side-order of chips!”
“Fresh, crusty bread and butter.” I sighed. “Good Italian salami. A glass of ice-cold, sweet whole milk.”
“A crispy pizza.” A chipped in “Steaming garlic bread on the side. And a bottle of Chianti!”.
“Curd and treacle!” Maria exclaimed.
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The Turtle Beach

Sunday, October 24th, 2004

It was dusk before we reached Kalpitya itself, ostensibly the last settlement on the peninsula, but rows of palm-thatch huts lined the sandy track almost all the way to the sea at Dutch Bay. Here, a new sand bank had formed and Maria’s department had been charged with developing it. She had wanted to take a look at it. I had suspected there was an ulterior motive behind our excursion. Like Rob, Maria finds it hard to simply take time off and relax.
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