Teardrop – Part 2
After a lazy rise, not helped by some D+V, Adrian and I bused up to Dambulla, the site of revered 1st C BC cave temples housing 150 Buddha images and striking painted ceilings. The caves, some way up the sloping rock face, are also occupied by monkeys with mischief glinting in their eyes. An offering was made and the caves were closed off for 15 minutes. All, that is, except one door, left slightly ajar. As I pushed the door the hinge creaked and out ran a monkey, humanlike on two legs, with a silver pot of rice half his size in his arms! ‘So where’s the pot disappeared to’, the temple attendant gestured. ‘The monkey took it’, we performed. Skeptically his eyes said it all – ‘oh sure, blame it on the monkey…’
The buses were on strike which left only the private ones running. We knew that bus was going to Sigirya so why was the conductor fobbing us off, lieing with such a stupid smile? Eventually he gave up and got on the roof. Our packs sat freely on the roof tray, while we mashed up to the people next to us.
Sigirya is an ancient 5th C rock fortress which later became a monastic refuge in the 16th and 17th C. From the main entrance you pass through the royal complex with it landscaped water gardens, boulder gardens and terraced gardens. And then the fun bit; tackling the steep 200m rock to the summit. Frisky frescos halfway up the rock are the only non religious paintings in Sri Lanka, and sadly many were damaged by a (religious?) vandal in 1967. At the foot of the final ascent are two giant paws which are all that remain of the lion whose mouth the path once led through. Disapointingly only the foundations remain of the palace buildings and pool. The views however are commanding.
Tourist numbers are as low as 10% what they were pre Tsunami. Monkeys outnumber tourists. To the despondant trinket peddlers: no, I do not want to buy a secret box.
Stuffed to bursting, our bus trundled to the junction where a connection appeared. If buses in these parts tell a little of a drivers personality…well… Flashing mini lights around framed religious icons arent uncommon. This one though had it all – plastic grapes, flowers, fairylights, and a small pink inflatable barbie beach ball?! Nice1. The conductor jumps off at a shrine, makes an offering, a quick prayer to Ganesh and we’re off again. A Tamborine Man starts a beaty, rolling chant, not quite the talent of yesterdays blind flutist, but good enough to throw a few rupees. And then the boom sounds start again. The station? RoooOGER FM.
I love peddling around 1000 y.o. ruins of an ancient capital on a bike. Polonaruwa was a lovely circuit, not Angkor Wat, but with very well maintained grounds. The high point was definitely Gal Vihara; 4 separate Buddha images carved from one massive granite rock, shot through with a beautiful grain. Peace befalls upon you. Drinking a yolk yellow water coconut restored what the drenching humidity sapped.
Anuradhapura rose to great importance in the 3rd C BC under Devanampiya Tissa, during whose reign Buddhism reached Sri Lanka. Here stands the sacred Bodhi tree (at 2000 years old the oldest historically authenticated tree in the world), grown from a cutting from Bodhgaya – that is the tree under which Buddha gained enlightened. I took a moment.
We cycled down lanes past orange monks with black umbrellas, checkpoints and guns, a monitor lizard swimming upstream, and offroad around the ruins. It was the Dagobas (brick domes with spires) that most impressed, once housing 3000 monks and climbing over 100 metres. The white dagoba reverberated against the bluest sky, peculiarly visited at the time by a group of white robed someones.
The major sites of the Cultural Triangle were covered. Could we make it into the south central hill country by next afternoon?
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