Sri Lanka - Colombo, A War Zone in Suspension.

I start my journey in Colombo. Arrived at 2am, the airport resembling the LCC (low cost carrier) airport in KL, ie a warehouse. The streets are empty, there are 2 military checkpoints before we reach the hotel. An 18-year-old boy with machine gun pointing at the cab asking why I’m here, asking me for my passport. Colombo is a war zone in suspension. Barb wires, dust, pot holes, never-repaired buildings, more machine guns. In the morning I call the railway station to get a ticket to Kandy, the hill-station, anxious to get out of Colombo. The Train Uncle asks me to get there to ‘talk’. It looks like a complicated process to get a train ticket, which it turns out, it is. The ‘Tourist Office’ manager makes it subtle but clear that if I don’t stay at his guest house in Kandy I don’t get on today’s train. “Didn’t you get pissed off?” I get asked later. “No, I’ve lived in Asia for too long. That’s the way it is. His salary is what I spend on shoes each month.” I wake up in Kandy at Train Uncle’s guest house, surrounded by rolling hills, tea bushes and the so-longed-for breathe of fresh air. The cook makes me a splendid Srilanka breakfast of string-hoppers, coconut chutney and red beans. He used to work at the 5-star hotel up the road, lost his job after the tsunami, tourism is not an industry here anymore. I’ve seen no more than 5 tourists since I got here. The bombings in Jaffna aren’t helping.