Negombo

Last weekend I took myself off to the fishing town of Negombo. For no real reason other than to get out of town and just to see what there is to see. In reality it was like going to Palm Beach for the weekend, if you are a Sydneysider, in terms of distance, not in terms of standards of living! 30km up the coast, the road north was basically a parking lot, lined with small shops, "superstores" and various suburban development so you didn't really feel like there was any break between the towns at all.
When I hailed a tuk tuk outside the office I'd asked him to take me to the bus station but he took me instead to a street corner further out of town that the bus passed by. Well at least that is what he claimed and happily it turned out to be true and he probably saved me another hour stuck in the frightful Friday afternoon Colombo traffic. The "express" minibus was happily air-conditioned and turned up almost straight away. When I got off at the other end, there were tuk-tuks awaiting, they knew exactly where my guesthouse was and whisked me away straight away. I am going to get incredibly spoilt having this door to door, instantaneous transport service!

I had chosen to say at the cute and quirky "Icebear Guest House" which billed itself as Sri Lanka with Swissness! Owned by a Swiss couple for 20 odd years, it was a lovely old Colonial villa, set in lush tropical gardens. Dinner on the terrace, overlooked by a statue of Shiva, with definite Pan like characteristics, traditional music wafting on the breeze, waves crashing on the other side of the garden fence. It was a lovely little oasis that felt safe and welcoming.

 

The guesthouse had bikes available so it was lovely to ride into town and explore. I soon came to the beachfront where strips of hessian were stretched out everywhere with various former sea creatures drying on them. A guy with very good English, who claims that Rick Stein interviewed him for a recent cooking show, started guiding me around and as he was very informative and friendly I went with the flow. He explained the different kinds of fish to me, and how they were treated, where they came from, as well as telling me about the difficulties of life there. It's still monsoon season here, although fortunately it's nothing like the terrible events they are suffering in Northern India, so the seas are quite rough and he told me that over 60 fisherman had died in the last 2 months. When you see their boats, that's not surprising in some ways. It's back breaking work, bending over and turning and tending to all the thousands of individual pieces. It's not often really that we get to see the daily grind of our food production so clearly.

He then took me around the fish markets, explaining all the various types of fish and what was going on. It was certainly easier for me to take photos with him there without feeling intrusive, although I did a fair amount of shooting from the hip too to try to capture the atmosphere as much as a could.

 Took a leisurely ride further north up the coast road and at one point was invited in to look at an Islamic school that I was photographing. Inside was just one room, the side walls sort of a lattice brick work to let the air flow through, a low wooden beamed ceiling with only one or two lightbulbs. There were a few wooden benches and tables but not nearly enough for the 150 kids, boys and girls, that the teacher told me they teach there every day. Apparently they are taught in English and Arabic. I wasn't able to find out whether any Sinhala or Tamil, the two official languages of the country are taught, so I am curious to find out more about the relationships between the various ethnic and religious groups here. It may have been my perception only, but it did appear that the settlement around the school and the adjoining mosque were poorer and even more run down than other sections of the community.

Reading in a hammock in the garden, eating (prawns, prawns and more prawns!) and having an Ayurvedic massage happily occupied the rest of my relaxing weekend.