Galle town, traffic and kaftans
Ok, I know you want to know if this travelogue will ever end, but this was the best holiday I’ve ever had as a grownup! And this is my Thank You to Sri Lanka. It’s a glorious nation with wonderful people, and it’s just plain good to be there. The civilisation is as ancient as any other we have on the planet, the historical sites are absolutely astounding. Seriously, visit the country, and dare to do it as an independent traveller. Package tours are not the answer!
Three glorious nights. Wow. So we decided to wander. The first thing we did on our second day was to wander into town for shopping. I didn’t even mind shopping! It was on the second day Mel bought the salwar. I bet I confused you in the previous post!
The fresh fish market is superb. There’s no smell of fish, they are fresh (duhhh, the clue is in the name!) they’re plentiful and presented as no frills fish. Good variety, too. It made me wish we were somewhere where we could cook as well as somewhere we were being cooked for.
I’m not sure what the fish were, they looked like tubby mackerel. They may have been small tuna.
I’m back to "too many pictures, too little blog’.
The town’s as crowded as the fort is tranquil. We did find yet another tout who took us to an Indian shop where Mel could buy kaftans. She found some great material, but Galle is way more expensive than Kandy, about 50% more. Let’s not mess about, though. The base price is still good, and we used Kandean prices to negotiate Gallean prices closer to our level. Three kaftans later, while Al and I bought a couple more sarongs each, Mel also found some great fabric for a less dressy salwar, too. The salwar cost 1,000 rupees to make up. That’s under £5! £20 in total. More expensive than a sari, which just needs a blouse made. It seems they call them blouses nowadays, not ’choli’.
It was all a bit of a rush to get them complete by the end of day three. We had to sprint behind the shop boy who took us to a different tailor.
I also tried King Coconut - orange nuts which get the top slashed off and provide an allegedly delicious drink inside, and not at all like the dried up things we get in the UK. The juice was refreshing, if bland. The vendor then slashes the nut open with a machete and you scoop the rather glutinous flesh out with a shard of shell, and try very hard to enjoy it. I don;t need to bother again, but I liked it better than papaya.
We tuk tuked back to the hotel, hot and tired. Actually we tuk tuked back to the Anglican Church because you get a better rate if you aren’t staying in a posh hotel! And we oozed hotly into the pool. And the pool is where you meet folk.