Arrival in the south
Not really finished being a tourist, but this is the R&R part of the trip! And Palm Paradise Cabanas came to us recommended by Holly, Al’s other half.
We were surprised when the tuk tuk retraced the bus’s tracks for a short way, but then the sea hove into view, and we turned down an unmade track for the hotel.
There’s so much to describe about the bus ride, too. The terrain changed from mountains with precipitous cliffs, through arid plain to salt pans as we were near Hambantota. The thing that perplexed me was that some rice paddies were full and productive, and those just next to them were dry and weed filled. A mystery I won’t solve by pondering it, and one I never solved by asking.
The salt pans near Hambantota are huge, and must, I suppose, have been reasonably easy to restore after the tsunami inundated them. This part of the country, and all the way from here to most of the way to Colombo on the coast road, was devastated by the 2004 tsunami. The evidence is patchy. It seemed pornographic to photograph it, somehow, almost like the endless TV coverage of the World Trade Center collapsing. Even so you see the occasional fishing boat in places where no boats ought to be, and foundations of houses where no house remains.
Tritely and truly, life goes on. The dead aren’t forgotten, but the place seems to have moved on emotionally.
The tsunami is the reason, it seems, for the lack of tourism. "There’ll be nothing to see!"
Wrong!
The war doesn’t help either, or the news coverage of it, when it’s covered at all, doesn’t help. All the BBC ever seems to say is "There’s been a bus bomb in Colombo." That really doesn’t help. It’s the proportion of the thing that’s important. There weren’t any bombs while we were there, and not for ages beforehand either. I’m off at a tangent again.
Behind a gate lay the Cabanas. There was noise of happy kids at play, and a bit of bustle. This is a holiday resort for Sri Lankans, mainly, and there were three or four families enjoying the dappled shade and gentle breezes that surrounded the hotel.
I can quite see why it got its name. Mature palms, the occasional large lizard, scented air, the sound of crickets, and the sound of surf.
Amazingly, the more amazing since this is a waterfront property, only three of the cabanas were slightly damaged in the tsunami, and 
they were open for whatever business remained in under 10 days. They were lucky, very lucky. We looked at their photo gallery.
The cabins (I really can’t keep calling them cabanas) have no glass in the windows, and an open grid to the front. Mossie country, so deet is needed, but no monkeys, which is really good news.
Al missed his deadline of being in the sea by 3:30 by about 5 minutes. Mel and I were close behind him. 
This is Robinson Crusoe and Man Friday territory. It was just plain lovely. It’s everything I ever imagined a palm beach would be. Soft sand, warm sea, coconuts on the beach, and glorious sunshine.
I got into the sea. I love surf. We’d been told that the beach was safe, no rip, good for bathing. We larked about.
There is no rip, not a special one, at least. But there is a fearsome undertow. I’m used to surf beaches. This one had me tell Al "I’m not sure I can get back in!" with a little urgency in my voice. No point in panicking, just in planning what to do and where to swim to without getting exhausted.
Pretty obviously I did get back in. But it was worrying for five minutes or so. The picture doesn’t look much. It’s not the waves that were much, but the undertow was unamusing. I sat in the edge after that. [I kept the picture small. It was almost embarrassing!]
Later we walked along the beach and found where a turtle had laid eggs the previous night. A local chap offered to chaperone us to an egg laying that night, if we arrived at 8:30. So we planned to do just that.
The egg site is unexceptional, unless you know what to look for. The photo shows flipper marks. It’s an interesting, exciting place, restful.
Pleasant family sounds from the other holidaymakers, idyllic surroundings, comfy cabins with good fans and the best mosquito nets so far, hot showers, with a choice of cold if we wanted.
It’s expensive, really. €33 per cabin per night. That’s about 3,300 rupees or so. And even that is amazingly low cost!
Apart from the lack of bathing beach, our feet were well and truly fallen on by us!