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Archive for the 'The Whales of Trincomalee' Category

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Christmas in Kandy

Tuesday, October 12th, 2004

Kandy, the final stronghold of the Buddhist kings and home to the sacred relic of the Buddha’s tooth (‘sweet tooth’ jokes abound) nestles by an artificial lake at the foot of the highlands. Here in the hills, it was markedly cooler.
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Elephants, Porcupines and Propositions (2)

Monday, October 11th, 2004

In Pinnawela, Kunara refused to join us on our trip to the orphanage.
“Oh come on”, we pleaded: “We can take the labtops with us so nobody can steal them.”
“It is not just that” he replied: “Its the car!”
His worried expression said it all. I would not want to be the one telling Rob that anything had happened to his brand-new Hyundai. We left him in the shade licking an ice-cream and promised to be quick.
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Elephants, Porcupines and Propositions (1)

Sunday, October 10th, 2004

The next day, my arms and legs were pock-marked with mosquito bites. I carried a cut lime around to rub on my skin in an attempt to ease the fierce itching. I was high on histamines.
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The night of the lost pocket knife

Saturday, October 9th, 2004

Back at Trinco Rest, my unease returned. I did not want to take a precious valium, so I had a drink, chasing one peril with another. Daytime drinking was bad news, but at least it was now late afternoon.
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An afternoon stroll

Friday, October 8th, 2004

I had arranged a tuk-tuk for 11 o’clock. The commander, who had borrowed my book on whales, had hinted that he might drop by at Trinco Rest when he finished work at 11:30. It turned out that a family of Germans had to meet somebody in Trinco as well and they were running late. It would not have the end of the world to wait for the tuk-tuk to return, although I was reluctant. They wouldn’t even hear of it: “Sure we all fit in — no problem!”
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Tension

Thursday, October 7th, 2004

Back at the French Garden, I suddenly felt depressed. The experiences of the past few days were catching up with me. How was it that this holiday had turned into some kind of expedition? Why was I chasing after pipe dreams, unsettling everyone in the process? I should go back to Negombo and stay with my husband and friends and get a grip! Forget about writing. Forget about my quest. The whales are not for me.
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Crazy night out

Wednesday, October 6th, 2004

The harbour master had been in a jolly mood all along, telling the Captain that I was his new wife and trying to pair me off with two young crew members on the pilot boat with whom he made me pose for photos. When he said he would like to take me to a nice hotel, I felt a little uneasy.
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The Ship

Thursday, September 30th, 2004

I’ll be away for a few days, so this is the last ‘Whales of Trincomalee’ instalment for a week or so. I’ll see what’s going on in London instead. Can’t wait — aaahh — I can almost smell the smoke from here!

Shortly after, I was introduced to the harbour master, a somewhat abrupt but kind man whose graying beard gave the impression of the archetypical old seadog. Fittingly, he seemed slightly drunk.
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The fool’s errant

Wednesday, September 29th, 2004

The T-shirt was worth its weight in gold. It was light and airy and, more importantly, I now looked presentable. So at two, I set off on the freshly oiled bike to seek out the offices of the United Nations Development Agency which I had spotted from the bus from Colombo. There was still time before I was due at the Port Authority and it would be a good opportunity to find out more about the current situation in the area. Also, they might be able to provide a local contact for UNEP which I knew had been involved in the National Marine Mammal Program, NARA had run in the eighties. There had been a representation of NARA in Trincomalee but I expected them to have left the area.
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Paths

Tuesday, September 28th, 2004

So far, I had gotten by with a mixture of English and sign language, but back at the bus station, I was out of luck. A group of young men tried their best to help me out, but they did not even understand my pronounciation of “Upuveli”. Eventually, they indicated a clapped-out old van and I climbed in. Then there was a discussion with one of the drivers and they waved me back out again. A few more yelled exchanges and they told me “No bus.”
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