We are now back at Jeev’s home and as we have to be up at 4.45am tomorrow this must of necessity be a rushed account of our day. Kate, Rob and Marc have not returned from their travels so we will be unlikely to see them before we meet up in Bentota next week.
We visited Galle museum after breakfast. The collections are an eclectic mix of odds and ends covering the periods of Dutch, Portuguese and British rule in the country. We later took cool, fresh lime drinks under the shade of a tree in the garden of the Dutch House Hotel before returning to collect our luggage from Mrs. Khalid and meet our tuc-tuc driver from yesterday as arranged. Instead of him however, we found the local chief tourist officer waiting for us at the house. Our driver had been called away elsewhere so he had come himself to make sure we were not hassled at the bus station. He also wanted Ian’s statement in triplicate for the central tourist office in Colombo and for the tourist police as well as for his own files. Ian had to sign and address the envelopes and we were then taken to a photocopy shop before being driven down into the town where our escort stopped an air-conditioned long-distance coach to Colombo and bundled us and our luggage on board. Thus we left Galle very abruptly and found ourselves riding in comfort back home along the sea road through little red-tiled, mud-walled villages, far prettier than the miserable shacks beside the railway line we’d seen on our way down. The sea, beaches and palm trees were to our left, thick groves of palms, bananas, papaya and mangoes to our right.
As usual the driving was too fast and carried out with a cavalier disregard for anyone’s safety. Without fitted seat belts we trusted to the driver’s skill and settled to admire the scenery and the syrupy Sri Lankan music on the tannoy. In the event our trust proved to have been misguided. Just past Bentota our driver overtook another bus on a double white line ignoring an oncoming car followed by a lorry. Until the moment of impact he made no attempt to brake. We were all hurled forward but miraculously nobody was hurt in any of the vehicles although the car was crunched up by both the bus and the lorry and looked a complete write-off. The front of the bus was bashed in and the windscreen fractured. People converged from every direction, milling around like ants. Meanwhile we all clambered down from the coach, adding to the general chaos. The three vehicles and lots of shattered glass filled the centre of the road and the traffic in both directions poured around on either side. All the passengers accepted it as part of everyday life and simply flagged down any of the buses following and clambered aboard. Of course, our tickets were no longer valid and we had to pay again, but for us the fares were very cheap anyway. There was no question of witness statements being taken by anyone but it could all have been so much worse.
The lesson had not been learned by the new driver who now wished to make up for the time he’d lost picking up stranded passengers. For some reason our fellow passengers seemed to regard the accident as a personal affront to us and kept talking about it.
We knew we needed to be set down near the biscuit factory in Ratmalana but we didn’t know the route and were squashed at the very back of the overcrowded bus, so a message was passed down to the driver and we were squeezed out with all our luggage, by the unanimous agreement of all passengers, at the Ratmalana Deaf School - a good kilometre before we actually wished to be set down! By the time we realised, the bus was a distant speck careering on its way towards the centre of Colombo.
By the time we’d walked home in the heat along the dual carriageway with our luggage - typically there was not a tuc-tuc for hire in sight - we were soaked in sweat and completely exhausted. Money opened the door to us and signed that the family was out and did we wish to eat? We signed back that we needed to take urgent showers first. Soon everyone returned. They’d gone to a bookshop to buy Neil some easy Sinhala children’s books to read.
Later, we went around to the opulent, former governor’s residence, now the Mount Lavinia Hotel, where the other wedding guests are staying. It was a lovely evening. Jeev returned ahead of us so when Ian, Neil and I left we ordered transport, and a uniformed doorman in white shorts, long white socks, white shirt with gold epaulettes and a white topee showed us to our waiting tuc-tuc at the foot of the marble steps. It was a pity that such an unlikely scenario could not be completed as it would have been in London, but tuc-tucs do not have doors to be held open! Off we popped, weaving through the Galle Road traffic with Neil directing the driver in Sinhala! He’s astonishing!
We ate a late supper and watched a video of the wedding of one of Jeev’s friends so we would have some idea of what to expect on 6th June. It was very beautiful and very glitzy. We found it all a bit extravagant with a champagne fountain and a soundtrack of Cliff Richard singing “Congratulations” as they posed for the official photos.
Now it’s time for bed. Tomorrow we leave for the Elephant Orphanage and Kandy on the first stage of the arranged tour. Neil is coming with us and returning by train later in the day.
