Tuesday 20 January 2015

Polonnaruwa and Kandalama, an Ancient City and a Modern Hotel: Part 3 of Sri Lanka, Isle of Serendip

After a leisurely breakfast of string hoppers (nests of boiled rice noodles), dhal, coconut sambol and chicken curry we set off on the 80km journey to Polonnaruwa.

Ravi drove us across the northern plain, mostly agricultural land displaying a rich variety of greens, from the luminous light green of the paddy fields to the darker hues of the coconut palms. This year's monsoon had been particularly wet and a little late, so there were large areas of wetlands where we stopped to watch egrets and ibis.

Water Lilies - the egrets and ibis are there somewhere, too
Northern Plain, Sri Lanka
Beyond the straggling village of Habarana we paused for a coconut.  We had become devotees of the ‘coconut break’ in Southern India a few years ago; cheaper, healthier and more hygienic than morning coffee, coconut water is a superbly refreshing drink on a blisteringly hot day. Indian drinking coconuts are large and green, in Sri Lanka they are yellow and outwardly much smaller, though there is at least as much liquid within.


Coconut break near Habarana
Indian coconut sellers have the alarming habit of holding the coconut in one hand and hitting it with a machete held in the other. The more circumspect Sri Lankans usually place the coconut on a tree stump.

The less alarming Sri Lankan way to machete a coconut
Looking across part of the Minneriya National Park we thought we could see one of their many elephants, though using binoculars to tentatively identify something the size of an elephant suggests it was not close. Wild elephants are not confined to the national park and local farmers build tree houses from where they guard their crops at night from bands of marauding elephants.
 
We did not need binoculars to see this domesticated elephant

The artificial lake at Minneriya was created in the third century AD, and the availability of so much water for irrigation was the start of Polonnaruwa's rise to prominence. For six hundred years it was an occasional royal residence of the kings of Anuradhapura. As the expansionist Indian Chola Empire regularly sacked Anuradhapura, Polonnaruwa's greater distance from India, rich agriculture and trading links through the port of Trincomalee made it increasingly important.

The Cholas ruled southern India for a thousand years from around 300BC to 1279. Emperor Raja Raja I invaded Sri Lanka in 993 and sacked Anuradhapura so comprehensively the city was abandoned.  With Polonnaruwa as their capital, the Cholas ruled northern Sri Lanka for 80 years. Vijayabahu I inherited the southern kingdom in 1050 and after a long and ultimately successful campaign to remove the Cholas he ruled a united island from 1070 to his death in 1110.
 
Sri Lanka


Polonnaruwa was the Sri Lankan capital for the next 200 years. During this time there were over a hundred kings, only Vijayabhau, Parakramabahu I (ruled 1153-86) and Nissankamalla (ruled 1187-96) survived long enough to provide any stability and they were responsible for much of the building.

In the late thirteenth century marauding Tamils made it time for the capital to move on again and Polonnaruwa was swallowed up by the jungle until it was dug out again in the mid-twentieth century.

There is little of modern Polonnaruwa, but there is a museum beside an artificial lake, and there we hired an official guide and paid another £16 entrance fee.

The museum has the usual collection of stonework and statues, mainly Buddha images but also a few Hindu gods, including the ever-popular elephant-headed Ganesh. Models of the main buildings were, perhaps, the star exhibits. The palaces once had six or seven storeys, but only the stone-built lower storeys survive. In the models the wooden floors above and the roofs that covered the dagobas have been reconstructed.
The huge site is surrounded by an ancient wall and, directed by our amiable new guide, who spoke excellent English, Ravi drove us through this outer wall to the heavily restored inner wall around the 'Royal Palace Group'.

This is a blog, not a guide book; what follows is not a comprehensive description of this vast site, it is merely a record of what caught our interest.

Parakramabahu I, known as The Great, built the Royal Palace which, according to a 13th century chronicle, had seven storeys and a thousand rooms. The latter figure is undoubtedly an exaggeration, but the number of storeys… who knows? Three storeys survive; there are holes for the beams which supported the upper stories and plenty of evidence of the fire that destroyed them.

The Royal Palace, Polonnaruwa
The nearby Council Chamber also lacks its roof, but the columns on which it stood remain.

Council Chamber, Polonnaruwa
You can cross the moonstones, climb the steps.....

The steps up to the Council Chamber with two moonstones (the carved semi-circular stones on the threshold)
Polonnaruwa
..... and imagine you are waiting to give the king the benefit of your boundless wisdom.

Ready to advise the king, Council Chamber, Polonnaruwa
Another set of steps descends to the Royal bath, which must have been impressive in its time, though now it looks like the bathwater needs changing.

The Royal Baths, Polonnaruwa
A little north of the Palace Group, ‘The Quadrangle’ is the religious heart of Polonnaruwa.

The Vatage, or Circular Image House, is the most notable building with intricately carved moonstones and seated Buddhas marking the cardinal points. It was also built by Parakramabahu, with embellishments by Nissankamalla, who tinkered with a number of buildings and always left an inscription to claim the credit for his work - and everyone else’s.
 
Seated Buddha in the Vatage, the Circular Image House, The Quadrangle, Polonnaruwa

A long-vanished upper storey probably enshrined the Tooth of the Buddha. The sacred relic had been brought from Anuradhapura; its presence (until modern times) defined the island’s capital.

Several other image houses adorn the Quadrangle, including the Atage , built by Vijayabuha and one of Polonnaruwa’s oldest buildings, and the Hatage. Both were probably intended to house the Buddha’s Tooth, any king worth his salt would want their own Temple of the Tooth.
 
The Hatage, The Quadrangle, Polonnaruwa

The Gal Pota, near the Hatage, is a 9m long granite slab densely covered with inscriptions praising Nissankamilla, including a dramatic bigging up of his very modest military expeditions in India. Known as Nissankamilla the Vainglorious, he worked hard to live up to the title. The 25t stone was brought 90km from Mihintale, though there seems nothing special about it that would justify so much effort.
 
Gal Pota, The Quandrangle, Polonnaruwa

In the corner by the Gal Pota is the Satmahal Prasada. It is unlike any temple anywhere else in Sri Lanka and is conjectured to be the work of Cambodian craftsmen, but nobody really knows.
 
Satmahal Prasada

The Lotus Mandapa, also the work of Nissankamilla, faces the Hatage….
 
The Lotus Mandapa, The Quadrangle, Polonnawura

…while in front of it is a statue traditionally believed to be a likeness of Vijayabahu, though it may actually be a Bodhisattva.

Possibly a statue of Vijayabahu I - and possibly not
The Quandrangle, Polonnawura
Ravi drove us a little way north from the Quadrangle and a little off the main drag, to see first the Pabula Vihara - a dagoba reputedly built by one of the wives of Parakramabahu and turned into a strange two-tier hump by restoration work - ….

Pabula Vihara, Polonnaruwa
,,,and then, a little further from the road, the Shiva Devale no 2. A Hindu temple and the oldest surviving structure in Polonnaruwa, it dates from the Chola occupation and is entirely Indian in style.

Shiva Devale No. 2, Polonnaruwa
Back on the main drag we paused by the Rankot Vihara. Built by Nissankamalla, it is, at 55m, the largest dagoba in Sri Lanka outside Anuradhapura.


The Rankot Vihara, Polonnaruwa

Gal Vihara, the Stone Shrine is a little further north and consists of four Buddha statues carved from a single granite outcrop, two seated, one standing and a 14m long reclining Buddha.

Gal Vihara, Polonnawura

The carving, some of the finest in Sri Lanka, is from the time of Parakramabahu. One of the seated Buddha’s is in an iron cage and the whole ensemble is covered by a corrugated iron awning. I appreciate that ancient and delicate carvings need to be protected from the elements, but there must be a less ugly way to do it.

Gal Vihara, Polonnawura


We were flagging, but decided to make one more visit, to the Lotus Pool at the northern end of the city. Apart from its unusual shape there is not a lot to say about it. It was probably used as a ritual bath by those entering the city.

The Lotus Pool, Polonnaruwa

It was now two o'clock, well past the time when this man’s thoughts turn to lunch. We had been in Polonnaruwa for almost three hours and although we had seen most of the major sights, we had by no means seen everything - and I have not described everything we saw. To examine every rock and ruin we would require weeks, not hours, but we had had our fill; it was time to move on.

Ravi drove us back the way we had come. At any moment I expected him to pull into a restaurant forecourt, but he kept on driving. We passed back through Habarana. In October 2006, a hamlet on this next section of road had been the site of the Habarana massacre. A Tamil Tiger suicide bomber blew up an explosive laden truck among a convoy of buses carrying naval personal. Over 100 were killed, including several local civilians, and many more injured.

Eventually Ravi stopped. Concerned that the restaurant should be clean, he was over-fussy about where we ate, though food hygiene standards in Sri Lanka are generally good, certainly much higher than in southern India. Inevitably we ate in a tourist oriented restaurant, but Lion Lager dealt effectively with rehydration and I enjoyed my spicy omelette and Lynne her chicken curry sandwich. Two American girls at a nearby table were eating rice and curry washed down with Coca Cola, a flavour combination my brain refuses to even contemplate.

Ravi had been keen that we should have an Ayurvedic massage and had pointed out the best massage establishment when we passed through Habarana in the morning, and said we would need to book. Lynne was not interested, but I told him  I was happy to revisit the experience - I had an Ayurvedic massage in India in 2010. This conversation had apparently slipped his mind until we were nearing Dambulla, but then he suddenly nipped down a side road that, twenty winding minutes later, brought us back out in Habarana. We called into a complex of thatched huts in a Buddha-strewn garden where I booked a massage for tomorrow and we then set off back towards Dambulla. I suspect he was hoping we would not notice the strange circular route. I did, but I said nothing.
Where to get a massage in Habarana
We reached Dambulla this time, a dusty town we would pass through a few times more. Beyond it we turned along a minor road and, a few kilometres later, down a dirt track. It was hard to believe this was the approach to a five star hotel.

The road to Kandalama
Geoffrey Bawa (1919-2003) was Sri Lanka's pre-eminent architect. Trained in London he was a 'modernist' but modified his approach on returning to Sri Lanka and developed a style which became known as ‘tropical modernism’. He is responsible for, among other buildings, the Sri Lankan parliament, the University of Rahuna and several hotels. His most famous is the Heritance Hotel by Kandalama Lake, and that was where we were headed.

 
The Heritance Hotel, Kandalama
It is difficult to hide a building that is five storeys high and over a kilometre long – it is reputedly the longest hotel in the world, but we were there before we realised it. The Heritance Hotel faces Lake Kandalama with its back to a rocky hillside. The abundant greenery sweeping down the hill also sweeps over the hotel and the building of steel and glass somehow merges into the jungle. Very keen on recycling and energy efficiency the hotel sets out not just to be eco-friendly, but to merge into the eco-system.

 
The Heritance Hotel, Kandalama
A ramp brought us up to the entrance and from reception we were taken through to the pool bar for a welcome drink. Having entered on the lake side I could not quite work out how the pool at the back also overlooked the lake.

 
The Heritance Hotel pool and Kandalama Lake
After our drink we were escorted down to the third floor - the building plays games with your sense of space - and along the corridor to our suite (yes, we had been upgraded!). Sometimes at the back of the building, sometimes at the front, the wide corridor is open at the sides, giving views across the lake or of the vines down the rock face. It was a long walk, reception is in the centre of the building and our room was the last in the wing, and in the evening, we were told, bats occasionally fly down the corridor above you, but we did not see that.

Walking to our room, Heritance Hotel, Kandalama
The suite consisted of sitting room/office, bedroom and a luxurious bathroom, the spa bath with more controls than an airliner’s cockpit. Lynne was disconcerted to find the bathroom had no blinds but as the picture window looked out over only the jungle canopy I could not see that it mattered.

 
The walk to our room
Looking over Kandalama Lake with the faint outline of Sigiriya Rock, our challenge for the next day

We were warned about monkeys on the balcony – always lock up, their little fingers will find a way in otherwise, and when they tap on the glass in the morning do not open the door.

The view from our balcony, Heritance Hotel, Kandalama
The dining room dress code was described as ‘smart casual’. Wearing a sweaty tee-shirt and crumpled trousers – it had been a long hot day – I asked for clarification. The very elegantly dressed young lady looked me up and down with, I thought, justified contempt and then said, ‘as you are,’ which put the emphasis heavily on ‘casual’ rather than ‘smart’.

I was ever so slightly smarter when we went to dinner. I do not generally like hotel buffets, they can so easily turn a dining experience into mere feeding, but I must admit this was a very good one. It was also expensive - by Sri Lankan standards, though perhaps not by five-star hotel standards.


Sri Lanka, The Isle of Serendip


Monday 19 January 2015

Anuradhapura Ancient and Modern: Part 2 of Sri Lanka, Isle of Serendip

The Sacred City of Anuradhapura, Sri Lanka's First Capital

Sri Maha Bodi

Sri Lanka

After a breakfast of dhal, milk rice, chicken curry and coconut sambol (Lynne had an omelette) we set off to see Anuradhapura. The 'Sacred City' - a UNESCO World Heritage Site - has a hefty 3200 rupee (£16) entrance fee for foreigners, but the most holy site is outside the restricted zone. Sri Maha Bodhi, The Bodhi Tree, sits in its own enclosure and with its own (more modest) entrance fee.

In May 1985 a group of Tamil Tigers hijacked a bus, shot up Anuradhapura bus station and then drove to Sri Maha Bodhi where more bullets were sprayed around. 146 men, women and children died in the Anuradhapura Massacre. The civil war is now over, and in these happier times the security huts were unmanned, though we still passed through them before walking up the drive, removing our shoes and being admitted into the presence of the Tree. Around 450 BC the Buddha achieved enlightenment after meditating under a Bodhi Tree in what is now Bodhgaya in northern India. The tree we were looking at had allegedly been grown from a cutting of that original tree.

Entrance to Sri Maya Bodhi, Anuradhpaura
The 'his 'n' hers' security huts either side of the entrance were unmanned

It is undoubtedly a large and ancient specimen of its kind, supported by metal props, some painted gold, and surrounded by a gold-painted fence. Anuradhapura was sacked several times during its millennium of prominence, and then spent several centuries forgotten and being reclaimed by the jungle. Exactly what, if any, is the connection between the current tree and the original (and whether the original had any real connection with Bodhgaya) is anybody's guess, but such thoughts do not disturb those who come to venerate the tree, some in family groups others as individuals.

The Bodhi Tree, Anuradhapura

Several were lost in meditation. One thin young man in monk's robes knelt motionless. At first glance he seemed to be begging but his sign said, in several languages, 'Do not give money. Money is no companion.'

Meditating monk, Sri Maya Bodhi, Anuradhapura

The Ancient City of Anarahapura

Jetvana Monastery Museum

We headed next for the museum of the Jetvana Monastery - one of old Anuradhapura's three main monasteries - to buy our gold plated tickets. The museum, housed in a colonial mansion built by the British as the town hall - though not quite in the right place for the modern town - contains a collection of often finely crafted personal items from the excavations. Perhaps the most interesting was a large stone slab with indentations like an egg box, intended to hold relics. Several have been found buried beneath Buddha statues, and there must be many more of them out there, where long vanished statues once stood.

Acquiring a Guide

Leaving the monastery itself for later, we drove round the Mahavira Monastery just north of the Bodhi Tree to Basawakkulma, one of the many artificial lakes built by the city’s rulers to make life possible in this dry region.

Basawakkulma, Anuradhapura

Ravi was happy to drive us around the huge site, but had advised us to hire an official local guide and he had arranged for us to pick up Jagadth outside the folk museum by the lake. Jagadth was a slim young man with a piratical air, an impressive command of English and a confident way with a myriad facts and figures. 'Not just decorative,' Lynne observed.

Ruvanvalisaya, Mahavira Monastery

He took us first to Ruvanvalisaya in the Mahavira complex, the oldest of Anuradhapura's monasteries. Ruvanvalisaya, known as the ‘Great Dagoba’ although it is only the third largest in the city, was built, according to tradition, by the semi-legendary King Dutugemunu, a great Buddhist leader and liberator, who reigned at the end of the second century BC. Before it was complete Dutugemenu became seriously ill, so his younger brother 'completed' it with bamboo poles and white cloth allowing the dying king to see his finished handiwork.

Ruvanvalisaya, The 'Great Dagoba', Anuradhapura

Despite many restorations, a recent coat of white paint, and the replacement of most of the elephants lining the outer wall with modern copies, it is believed to look much as Dutugemenu intended - though slightly flattened by time. The dagoba sees a steady stream of pilgrims, many believing that sacred relics are buried beneath it, though nobody quite seems to know what.

New elephants, Ruvanvalisaya, Anuradhapura
The Thuperama Dagoba

300m further north, the much smaller Thuperama is the oldest dagoba in Sri Lanka and was built by Devanampiya Tissa shortly after his conversion by Mahinda (see Mihintale, previous post). Mahinda asked his sponsor (and relative) Ashoka the Great, the Emperor of India, for a focus of worship for his new converts. Ashoka kindly sent the Buddha's begging bowl and his right collarbone. The begging bowl has been lost, but the collarbone is under Thuperama – or so many believe. The surrounding pillars, some of which lean at alarming angles, once supported a roof.

Thuparama Dagoba, Anuradhapura

Nearby Jagadth pointed out an unusual corkscrew shaped coconut tree. He admitted not knowing the reason for the deformation; it was the only thing he did not know all day.

Corkscrew coconut palm, Anuradhapura
Anuradhapura Citadel

From here we made our way into the Citadel. Once surrounded by a moat and a thick wall the secular heart of the city is now little more than humps and bumps in the ground. Excavation has, as yet, only been partial and little can be seen of the royal palace apart from the terrace on which it stood.

Citadel complex, Anuradhapura
Mahapali Temple and Monastery

Of the nearby temple, the first (of many) in Sri Lanka to house the country's most sacred relic, the Tooth of the Buddha, there is a little more. The floor plan of the refectory can be clearly seen and beside it a huge stone trough which is believed to have been for the monk's rice. It is not easy to imagine what 5,000 portions of rice look like. The smaller trough (over Lynne’s right shoulder in the picture) was, Jagadth assured us, for the curry sauce. ‘Rice and curry’ was as important two thousand years ago as it is now.

Lynne and the rice trough, Mahapali Refectory, Anuradhapura

Continuing via a bathing pool which, Jagadth pointed out was three times the length of an Olympic pool (and may have been used by elephants) we reached Abhayagiri, the northernmost of the main monasteries.

Bathing Pool, Anuradhapura
Abhayagiri Monastery and the Palace of Mahasen

The museum contains the usual selection of statues, but perhaps most interesting were the toilets. Stone urinals with a very small hole in the base ('to concentrate the mind' as Jagadth said) were placed above a series of urns containing lime and charcoal to filter the urine and so keep the environment clean. There were also stone squat toilets. We did not learn how they dealt with solid waste, but we did observe that at the end of every latrine was an image of Kubera, the god of wealth. Every straining monk could look Kubera in the eye and know that wealth and greed had been put in their rightful place.

Buddhism does not have gods, even the Buddha himself never claimed divinity, but in most Buddhist countries a few deities seem to survive, either left over from the old religion, like the Nats in Myanmar, or seeping through from Hinduism as here.

Behind the museum is the palace of Mahasen, a king who ruled from 277 to 304 AD. Little remains except the platform on which it was built.

Palace of Mahasen,

The rather later image house next-door has a particularly spectacular moonstone. Semi-circular ‘moonstones’ are set in the doorways of most religious buildings, the carvings describing the route to nirvana. They vary from the simple to the elaborately carved; this one is said to be the finest in Sri Lanka.

Moonstone, Image house by Mahasen's Palace, Anuradhapura

Abhayagiri’s dagoba, built in the second century AD was the second tallest in Anuradhapura, but no longer has its full 45m pinnacle. It is popularly believed to enshrine a footprint of the Buddha who stood with one foot here and the other on the top of Adam's Peak, a 2000m high mountain over 200km to the south, not a particularly likely claim.

At its peak, in the fifth century AD, Abhayagiri had five thousand monks and an international reputation that gave it contacts in India, China, Burma and Java.

Abhayagiri Dagoba, Anuradhapura
The Samadhi Buddha

Near the dagoba is a Buddha image in the Samadhi (Meditation) posture. Carved from limestone in the fourth century AD, it is greatly revered and we were required to remove our shoes a significant distance before it, leaving a painful approach along a gravel path. The authorities are happy for the image to be photographed but here, as with other Buddha images, there are big signs telling people not to pose for photographs with their back to the image.

Samadhi Buddha, Anuradhapura
The Twin Pools

A little to the north of the Samadhi Buddha are the 'twin pools' (though they are by no means identical twins).

Twin Pools, Anuradhapura, (The second, smaller, pool is behind the main one)

Designed for bathing they have an elaborate system for allowing the sediment to settle out of the incoming water before it trickles into the pool. The steps down the sides are regarded as being particularly elegant, but the pools were full, so we could not see them.

Sediment settling system, Twin Pools, Anuradhapura
Back to the Jetvana Monastery

Our final move was back to the Jetvana Monastery. We had started our visit with the museum here and would finish it with the dagoba. It has been recently restored - only a couple of years ago it was covered with grass and studded with trees – and the pinnacle partly replaced. When it was built in the 3rd century BC (by King Mahasen, whose palace we had just visited) it stood 120m tall; at the time the third highest building in the world after two of the three major pyramids on the Giza Plateau. The brickwork has settled over the millennia and flattened out a little, but it remains Sri Lanka's largest dagoba and is claimed to be the largest building in the world made entirely from bricks. According to James Emerson Tennent, politician, traveller and, for a couple of months in 1847, Governor of British Ceylon, there are enough bricks in the dagoba to build a 10 foot high wall from London to Edinburgh. He made no suggestion as to why anyone should want to do this.

The Jetvana Dagoba, Anuradhapura

Back to Our Hotel

We returned to our hotel in time for a very late lunch. After a rest I ventured into the pool to give a demonstration of 'how to swim the front crawl' to a family of monkeys stationed in a tree overlooking the deep end. They watched with little apparent interest, but I suspect that was a front, secretly they were very impressed indeed.

About to impress our arboreal cousins

A Stroll Through Modern Anuradhapura

Afterwards we took a stroll through modern Anuradhapura. The town now has some 8,000 inhabitants and it did not take long to walk past the bus station where the Anuradhapura Massacre started and then down the full length of the main street. We found an ATM at the far end of town – we had almost run out of money despite yesterday’s visit to the ATM at the airport. We also purchased some of what we call 'Bombay Mix', though I have no idea what it is called in Sri Lanka (or in India where we have made similar purchases). 200g cost us 80 rupees (40p), the first thing we had found in this country that was unequivocally cheap. It was sold in a bag made of two squares of newspaper glued together.

Main street, Anuradhapura

Later I ate rice and curry at the hotel. It was different from last night’s rice and curry, but not very different. Lynne’s sea food fried rice was probably a better choice.

Sri Lanka, The Isle of Serendip

Sunday 18 January 2015

Colombo to Anuradhapura and Mihintale: Part 1 of Sri Lanka, Isle of Serendip

Our Introduction to Sri Lanka and Sri Lanka's Introduction to Buddhism

Arriving in Sri Lanka

Sri Lanka

Our bodies said it was 11.30 pm, not a good time to arrive in a new country. The local clocks said it was 4.30 am, which might be worse.

We completed the formalities and located Ravi, who was to be our driver for the next eighteen days.

Dawn was still some way off as we started the 150km drive north to Anuradhapura, the ancient capital of Sri Lanka. I asked Ravi how long the journey would take. 'Five hours normally,' he said, 'but we are early and will miss the traffic, so four hours.' It was also Sunday, still a day of rest sixty-seven years after British rule ended in this largely Buddhist country, so we were even quicker, despite a tea stop at Puttalam.

Sri Lanka
Up the west coast from Colombo to Puttalam, then north east to Anuradhapura

Colombo to Anaradhapura

The airport is twenty kilometres north of Colombo but the journey started in an urban sprawl which extended beyond Negombo. There was little traffic, and not a great deal of street lighting, so we were unable to see much of our surroundings.

There was enough light to see flocks of black birds flying across the road. 'Crows,' Ravi said 'and sometimes you see bats - they roost in the same trees.' We saw no bats.

Dawn broke, though it was some time before a big enough gap in the houses allowed us to see the new day's currant bun.

We had arrived three days after Pope Francis had left and there were still posters advertising his visit. I asked Ravi if there were many Christians in Sri Lanka. 'Many people by the seaside are Christians,' he said, 'but in the interior it is all Buddhism.' [7% of Sri Lanka’s 20m people are Christians, 70% are Buddhists] Ravi, from the Buddhist heartland of Kandy, was understandably vague on the denomination of Sri Lankan Christians but the pope's visit had been a great success and drew large crowds. In the next hour we passed many churches, some full to bursting for Sunday services. We also passed several Buddhist temples, a few Hindu temples [13%] and two mosques [10%], Sri Lanka may be predominantly Buddhist, but there is plenty of diversity.

My road map showed five towns in the thirty kilometres of the A1 between Negombo and Chilaw, but to the casual observer we were in continuous village. Further north the houses became more sporadic, separated by paddy fields, coconut palms and temporary lakes (the monsoon was late and particularly heavy this year). The wet, marshy ground was home to countless egrets.

Lake formed by the late monsoon rains

South of Puttalam the road runs beside a lagoon so big we could not see across it. It is home to vast stocks of prawns and lobsters.

We by-passed Puttalam, stopping for a cup of tea at the Rest House on the city’s eastern edge. Much English tea comes from Sri Lanka, so we should not have been surprised to be served the most English cuppa we have encountered on foreign soil – even down to the jug of milk, though hot UHT milk is not my favourite.

Road signs at home warn of deer, but here, as we turned inland past the Wilpattu national park, they warn of elephants. The beasts are unaware of the park boundaries and, Ravi said, are a common sight on this road at night.

The remaining 70 kilometres of our journey was through countryside, dominated by rice fields and coconut trees, with a sprinkling of cashew plantations.

Lunch, Lion Lager and Lake Nuwara Wewa

The Lake View Hotel at Anuradhapura is, as the name suggest beside a lake, Nuwara Wewa, one of the many reservoirs built when Anuradhapura was the most important city on the island. We arrived just after nine, less interested in ancient lakes than in having somewhere to sleep, an occupation that took up the rest of the morning.

We ate a light lunch on the hotel terrace. The sun was warm rather than hot and with the cooling breeze off the lake it could not have been pleasanter. We ordered omelettes, with onion, mushrooms and chilli. 'It's spicy,' the waiter said with a concerned expression. 'Bring it on,' we said. Both omelettes were perfectly satisfactory as omelettes go, and contained a few circles of fresh green chilli, but spicy? No, not by any realistic standard. Will Sri Lanka, we wondered, be a replay of the battles we have fought in China and India (with varying degrees of success) to be allowed to eat the food the locals eat.

Lion Lager

We drank Lion Lager, overwhelmingly Sri Lanka's top selling brand, as it has been since the brewery was founded in1881. It is a well-made light lager and, served cold, is perfect for the climate.

After a stroll beside the lake, where we observed egrets, huge herons, cormorants swimming with only their heads and necks above water, a man standing in the lake fishing and a picnicking family, Ravi arrived to show us Mihintale.

Man fishing in Nuwara Wewa, Anuradhapura

Mihintale

Anuradhapura was the island’s capital from its founding in the 4th century BC until 933AD. It now consists of the ruined 'Sacred City' and a small modern town distinguished only by its reservoirs and a large number of tourist hotels.

Saving ‘old Anuradhapura’ for the next day we set off for Mihintale, 12km to the east, and, according to legend the place where Buddhism arrived in Sri Lanka.

Sri Lanka’s northern plain is studded with rocky outcrops and grassy hillocks and Mihintale sits on such a hill. To minimise the number of steps Ravi drove us as high as he could, parking beside Sinha Pokuna. The name means 'Lion Pool' and comes from the statue of a lion which once gushed water from its mouth. We walked across the now dry pool to see it, shoo-ing our way through a crowd of monkeys and pausing to watch the infants playing in a tree.

Monkeys, Sinha Pokuna, Mihintale

The lion is badly eroded, but the carvings above it are in much better conditions and very Indian in style.

Badly eroded lion fountain, Sinha Pokuna, Mihintale

Further up there are the remains of the chapter and image houses of a long vanished monastery. Two tenth century stone slabs are inscribed with the monastery rules. The English translation proved rather disappointing; the list of medieval dos and don’ts read pretty much like any set of school rules.

The Image House, Mihintale

Brick built hemispheres are all that remain of many old dagobas. Taking a closer look at one I startled a large monitor lizard which scuttled away and then stood looking at me. I crept up to take this picture [we would discover they are two-a-penny throughout the country].

Monitor lizard, Mihintale

The ticket office stands beside the steps to the upper terrace. Here we paid, deposited our shoes and removed our hats. Bare heads are the rule (for men and women) in Sri Lankan temples. I would always remove my hat indoors, but as few of the temples we visited had an 'indoors' I reluctantly exposed my head, and the large areas of scalp between my increasingly meagre hair, to the full glare of the sun. Bare feet are fine on stone flags but here the surface, sometimes sandy, sometimes rocky but always gritty, was uncomfortable at best and extremely painful when standing on a sharp stone.

On this terrace King Devanampiya Tissa (reigned 250-210 BC) met Mahinda the brother, or maybe son, of Ashoka the Great (see Mughal Serai and Sarnath), the Buddhist ruler of most of India. The king was hunting deer, Mahinda was hunting converts. The dagoba marks where the king stood, Mahinda’s position is represented by a statue so badly damaged I took no notice of it and have no photograph. Given their positions the ensuing conversation must have been shouted.

The Upper Terrace, Mihintale. Mahinda stood just to the right of the camera, the king where the white dagoba is.
A modern Buddha image looks out over the scene

The Riddle of the Mango Tree

'What is this tree?' Mahinda asked the King.
'A mango tree.'
'And are there other mango trees in the forest?'
There are.' The king replied.
'Are there trees in the forest that are not mango trees?'
The king nodded.
'And are there trees in the forest that are not those other trees nor other mango trees?'

At this point any normal medieval king would have said 'stop being a smartarse,' and chopped his head off. Devanampiya Tissa though, thought for a moment and replied, 'There is this mango tree.'

Having solved the 'riddle of the mango' the king was, Mahinda decided, a fit person to receive the ideas of the Buddha.

Aradhana Gala (Meditation Rock)


Aradhana Gala (Meditation Rock) from the Mahaseya Dagoba

Mahinda gave his first sermon from the top of a rocky outcrop known as Aradhana Gala (Meditation Rock). The steps cut in the rock have become worn by time and polished to slipperiness by the sweat of a million feet. Those in direct sunlight were hot, too, but we struggled to the top aided by a robust handrail – a relatively new addition according to Ravi.

Steep, hot, slippery rocks, Aradhana Gala, Mihintale

We were rewarded with wonderful views over the misty plain sprinkled with the reservoirs built by the many kings of Anuradhapura to provide irrigation for the crops and drinking water for the city.

The Northern Plain from the top of Aradhana Gala

Mahaseya Dagoba

Mahaseya Dagoba is on a second outcrop, but the climb is much easier, though still hard on the soles of the feet. Painted white and frequently restored it is said to enshrine a hair of the Buddha. Unusually it is not solid and inside there is a rather camp reclining Buddha and several other smaller statues.

Mahindu Saya (front) and Mahaseya Dogoba (behind), Mihintale

The much older Mahindu Saya is now a hemisphere of bare bricks. Like many others around the site it is reputed to hold relics of Mahinda.

Reclining Buddha, Mahaseya Dagoba

Kaludiya Pokuna

We picked our way gingerly back to the ticket office and then, reshod, strode with more confidence back to the car. 500m down the road we parked and walked to Kaludiya Pokuna, a tranquil man-made lake.

Kaludiya Pokuna, Mihintale

The remains of a tenth century monastery stand beside the water, but whether the unusual cave-building was a bath house or a monk's dwelling is a moot point.

'Cave Building' Kaludiya Pokuna, Mihintale

Rice and Curry

The light was fading when we arrived back at the hotel. We decided to go out to eat and asked Ravi's advice. He offered to drive us and took us a short distance to another hotel where we sat on a balcony with only one other couple overlooking a vigorous children's party. It was not ideal but Ravi said the food was good and it may have been unfair of us to suspect he was on a retainer.

Rice and Curry, Anuradhapura

‘Rice and curry’ - always on that order - is the archetypal Sri Lankan meal, so that was what we ordered, one vegetarian and one with beef. The piles of rice would have made Sir Edmund Hillary reach for a rope and breathing apparatus. There was mango chutney, chilli flakes and three dishes each of curry, three veg for Lynne, two veg and one beef for me, all six of them different. Dhal was involved, as were aubergines, a floury root vegetable that might have been taro, beetroot, caramelised shallots and several more that will have go unnamed, though the young waiter was keen to help us understand what we were eating. The spicing varied from subtle to fiery, and the variety made for an excellent meal, even if the beef was distinctly tough and the ambience not quite what we were expecting.

Sri Lanka, The Isle of Serendip