From the sanctity of business class to the chaos of Colombo airport. Actually, it's not in Colombo but further north just east of Negombo, where we'll end up in a couple of week's time. We arranged our hotel to send a taxi to pick us up but first we had to find the "post office" outside the airport and phone him. The place was bedlam, police blowing whistles, cars honking, taxies shouting, people and trollies everywhere. Still, it worked out OK. For $25 we got taken to City Beds, a cheap Premier Inn-styled boutique hotel in the western, coastal side of the city. By midday we were checked in to a spartan, but clean and comfortable room, wondering if we should try and sleep or stick it out until the evening.
We decided on the latter and went for a walk down by the sea (looking for a bar if the truth be told). After hours of walking down the coast road Colombo gives the appearance of being a giant construction site. Hotel chains are springing up all over this end of the city. We did find a German bar and snagged a cold beer only to be told they were closing at two. We walked back unsuccessfully the other side of the construction area, very hot and sweaty, hassled continuously by tuk tuk drivers who obviously thought that the two old tourist farts shouldn't be out walking in the afternoon heat.
Surviving an encounter with a large march of shouty students (it seems they were objecting to something to do with the change in status to their free education) we made it back and did something we should have done first -- consult TripAdvisor & Google maps. Seems there was a street full of bars just 100 metres away in the other direction. Grr. So, a quick shower an back out again. Sure enough, we stumbled upon a modest collection of expensive bars (they are all run by the aforementioned hotel chains) and indulged in a beer before getting an early night.
Truth is, we only stayed in Colombo for a couple of nights a) to get over the flight, and b) to sort the logistics of getting to Mirissa. The main railway station was only a short walk away, sans baggage, so we checked out the right side to book tickets for the next day. Lunch consisted of a bag of spicy pastries purchased at a street café and eaten on the steps of the World Trade Centre (no, really, twin towers and all). Cost around £1.50, about a quarter of the price of a beer the previous night. The evening saw us back in the converted Dutch Hospital complex at one of the new bars for pitchers of beer and a light supper (don't want too much before travelling on one of these trains for four hours). Just as the bars were setting out sound stages and street cabaret we decided to call it a day. The adventure starts for real tomorrow.
