A long drive ....

So our driver for the next 5 days has arrived in Dickwella and off we go. Arrive in Hanbantoto which has been completely and utterly devastated - more akin to the Banda Aceh shots of obliteration that you will be used to. The GM at Dickwella was managing the hotel in Hanbantoto and lost his wife and child plus 10 members of staff - Dickwella lost none.

Up through the centre of SL to Nuwara Eliya (pronounced Nuralia) otherwise known as "Little England" because a) so many Brits settled there and b) the climate is akin to the UK. A long and hazardous road past waterfalls and through mountain villages of unflinching poverty. What is astonishing is the number of people sitting by the road seemingly doing nothing, all day. This area is also the "vegetable basket" of SL, but why aren't they in the fields?

On the way we get the first indication that all is not as it seems with our driver and an indication that the next few days will feel very long! At 12 midday I ask the driver if we can stop for some food - does he know anywhere? "yes Madame" (I'm now a 'madame'). Two hours and 15 mins later we pull up at what can only be described as an Arak den (Arak is the local lighter fuel). Outside there are 5/6 guys so off their heads that they can't sit up straight, inside the walls are black from the smoke, it stinks, it's filthy - oh man. There is not a woman in the place (of course not - only prostitutes would enter this joint) and consequently every delightful soul in there makes the logical conclusion about me!!! Anyway, our driver disappears out the back (probably to have some Arak) and then returns with a big smile to announce that he has got us the local rate on food - only 300rps 'madame'. God knows why I don't just announce that I'm leaving - I am almost physically sick at the thought of eating food or just being in this place. Duncan looks as if he's going to explode with anger. Food arrives - we both eat a token mouthful and I am now grateful that I had all my shots!!! Can't stand it any longer so just get up and leave - I'm shaking (probably from lack of food!)

Nuwara Eliya itself is an unprepossessing town. It's claim to fame is a racecourse which hosts the SL equivalent of the Grand National. There are old tea plantation mansions dotted throughout the town and we are booked into the euphemistically named The Grand. We are fast discovering that SL hotel rooms often don't live-up to the promise of the foyer or public areas! This is very grand indeed in a colonial way - big rooms, very high ceilings, plush drapes, comfy lounges - a cup of vanilla tea and "jiggery" (another palm byproduct - a distilled sugar). All good. Then the rooms - not again! Dark, dingy, 2 single beds (?) and because the hotel is old you can hear everything. Which does not quieten the staff or the guests. Less said the better.

Go to "Cargills" (my maiden name) and buy some tea as a token; cross over from the monkey and python show - i'm not as excited by it as the locals! Visit a tea plantation called Mackwoods which is fascinating. They employ 2,000 people of which 1,000 are female tea pickers. You can see them dotted around the fields, all wearing sari's as they are mostly hindu. The fields themselves are astonishingly steep and I think of snakes! The process of making tea all happens in 24 hours from picking to packing, and the strength is determined by the process. This particular factory runs 24 hours a day with two shifts - the average tea plant lasts for 35 years and the average tea picker picks 15kg's a day - any more and they get paid extra. We sit on the verandah for a cup of tea - black which is how it's drunk and chocolate cake, straight out of the oven. Gorgeous.