Ella, Haputale…and Ella again

After the spectacular train ride from Kandy, I arrived in the tiny tourist town of Ella – a 1km stretch of road lined with bars, cafes, restaurants and hotels carved between jungle and mountain faces. For the first time in Sri Lanka, I felt like I could’ve been anywhere in Southeast Asia with western faces and food offers at almost every turn. It was a complete change from being the only white guy in town and ordering off menus written in Sinhalese. I didn’t really like it.

I didn’t dwell that first night. I was disappointed I’d not been spontaneous and got off the train with the guys and girls (The Stephens) I met in Kandy, and I missed them. I grabbed a quick dinner and readied for tomorrow, a new day.

In the morning, fuelled by a hearty banana pancake, I tackled Ella Rock and Little Adam’s Peak – two popular walks in Ella. I wanted to blitz them in one day so I could head back to Haputale and meet The Stephens. They were coming to Ella in a couple of days, but I’d rather be with them than wait.

Reaching Ella Rock was said to be hard due to the lack of clear or marked pathways. This proved to be mostly true. After leaving the railway line, the single, dusty, yellow track wound through tea fields before turning into a crossroads. I decided to follow a stray dog that followed me, but I ended up pathless and among dead bushes. I turned back, gambling on a few twists and turns before finding myself among dense woodland that was dark, grey and hid the blue sky above. There was no path (or soul) nearby – only sporadically placed rocks and climbing rubber trees, but it looked similar to what was described in Nomadic Boys’ guide. I persevered, reaching a steep path of loose orange stones and brown rocks, marking the rocks as I went – just in case.

I have to say, by this point I was sweating. my. nuts. off. I decided to wear trousers, which I can tell you is not what you wear when it’s 40 degrees, 90% humidity and you’re walking 8km up a small mountain.

 

After about an hour,  I was on the last part of the 8km trek. The near-vertical, jagged route reached pine trees that form the roof of the Rock, which looks out onto hill towns and a cluster of mountains fading into the misty distance. I sat on the rock face, starring at Little Adam’s Peak opposite (which looked like a clench fist, with it’s sharp bumps), resting and taking in the views when I noticed a familiar face: the stray dog. He lay in the shade, smugly wiggling his tail. He knew the way all along. I chatted briefly to a group who’d hiked up a different way, meeting someone who worked 10 minutes from my home town. Small world.

I returned from Ella Rock looking like I’d been swimming. I quickly freshened up and grabbed a cracker lunch before heading up Little Adam’s Peak. This walk is much easier, with a clear path winding up the hillside through a tea plantation. The views from here were even better. The same misty mountains got lost in the distance, hillside settlements poked out from trees and Ella Rock stood proudly as a road wrapped her feet like ribbon on a Christmas tree.

On the way back, I detoured via Demodara Nine Arch Bridge – but not first before unknowingly stumbling into a funeral ceremony. I felt like Mr Bean on holiday. Tens of people, all dressed in white, stood atop the pathway as a pasty white guy bumbled his way through. It wasn’t until I past the home of a young schoolboy who pointed me toward the bridge that I found out what I’d interrupted. He told me in the very candid Sri Lankan way that it was his cousin and that he was about to go, having been at school first.

The Bridge was just that, a bridge, but I did time my visit so as to see a cargo train pass through. It’s chugging breath echoed through the tunnel before its body emerged at a snail’s pace. From here, it looked like a toy; like I was at a model village.

After a long day walking, I visited the best food spot in Ella (according to TripAdvisor) aka the smallest restaurant known to man. Seating six (at best), what the tiny family run joint lacked in size it made up for in flavour. I can still taste the sweetness of their mango and aubergine curries.

The next morning I made my way to Haputale, a cute mountain town where I was to spend one night with The Stephens. It was a stupid route to travel the Hill Country, going back on myself, but as someone kindly assured me: “You’re travelling on your own, in no rush and lots of time. You can afford to go a stupid route.” Holla. Plus, I was going to meet some great people. And, an added bonus was I had another hour of those train views.

The centre of Haputale itself is typical Sri Lankan, with busy bakeries, general stores, buzzing tuk tuks and chugging buses, but walk out of it and you’ll enter windy roads that flirt with green tea fields and open up to a gaping view of the Hill Country.

I made my way to the humblest of homestays, which was next door to where my friends were. They had arranged it for me the night before. I dumped my bags and wandered over to see them on their veranda overlooking more rolling tea fields. It was great to see them again. In typical Sri Lankan generosity, their wonderful guesthouse owner invited me to join them for dinner, which followed some lazy hours chatting and catching up. Dessert was a game of Dobble, my ice-breaking travelling game, before bed.

My alarm rang at 4am the following morning, as we were all catching the tail end of the night train to Ella at 5am. Despite being insistent he’d be awake so I could checkout, my homestay owner never surfaced and so I had to be a little creative in paying.

Haputale to Ella is only an hour, which meant we arrived at our homestay to check in before the owner had even woken up. Tired, hungry and wanting to crack on with our day after our early start, we sat in the lounge questioning whether to leave our bags with a note or wait. We settled on the former, but, as luck would have it, the owner walked up the driveway as we were leaving.

Like me, The Stephens wanted to blitz Ella in one day so we could head south to the beach in the morning. So, with me as a their guide (and not wearing trousers this time), we tackled Little Adam’s Peak and Ella Rock together. I loved doing the walks again, as it meant I could share the experience with them. It’s something I’d missed the day before. Plus, I didn’t get us lost, so I now know that if all else fails I can head to Ella to be a tour guide.

That evening, after some much needed rest (today was The Stephens second consecutive 4am wake up), we did what two Englishmen and three Germans know something about: drinking beer. Filled with some very tasty Kottu and pancakes, it was Tiger beers all round as we toasted being back together and looked forward to our next stop – a private villa down by the beach…