It was once again time to move to another location, this time our goal was to spend the new year amidst the ruins of the ancient Singhalese capital of Anuradhapura.

To get to Anuradhapura from Negombo we had to take a bus first to Kurunegala and change into A.pura bus there. But first we had to get to the bus station, where we got a helping hand from a tuktuk driver with a permed mullet from the 80’s and suitably dirty mustache to accompany it. Just because of the guys outlooks (and the fact that we were traveling with big backpacks) I didn’t even feel bad paying a bit overprice for the trip – I mean, where else could you get a ride from a mullet in a wobbly three wheeler?!

The first leg of our journey went by faster than one could call a big feline with semi-cute names, in a nice air conditioned minibus. The only trouble arose when we were supposed to get out of the bus: there was no bus stop and no signs that would have told us that we had arrived to the bus terminal, just the cashier waving us to get off from the bus. And ofc as we were getting our gear on, I managed to leave my bad to the stairs of the bus and the damn thing almost left with my bag still there! And the cashier took us to our next bus, negotiated a seat for our bags and harassed us with like a dozen selfies – only later on we realized that he was prolly hoping for a tip for his help, and just trying to give us a hint, to us thickheaded westerners who understand nothing of such habits. The second part of the trip saw us riding in a crammed up local bus. The biggest difference to the ones used in Adam’s peak was that this bus had 5 seats per row instead of 4, and had big speakers all over the bus blasting some local pop(ish) stuff all the time. The bus was in fact so full that there was some dudes arse on my shoulder almost half of the trip. And once again, we saw no indication that our stop had come, and the cashier threw us out in some random street corner somewhat off from the new bus stop (as they seemed to call the bus stations there) of Anuradhapura. After the arduous walk back to the station and some negotiations we got a ride to our hotel from a genuine Harrison Ford lookalike.

Our hotel at Anurahdapura was run by this old fella and his wife (I at the least assume it was his wife, based on the way they were bickering all the time). All good and well, except that the guy’s English was rather poor and this lead to all sorts of complications along the way. He was also very, very willing to serve us in every possible thing, even to the point that Jenny started dreading the moments that guy would once again to come to offer some service or to ask if we needed anything. The hotel was located just behind the earthen wall of one of the three large artificial reservoirs in the area, Tissa Wewa. It was really hard to believe that this lake that reminded us so much about the lakes back in Finland was actually build over two thousand year ago!

Our plans for the New Year were about as ambitious as they can be – “let’s see what happens”. And something did indeed happen: We were having breakfast at the hotel on the morning of New Years eve when this random dude pop’s in, tells us (and the gals in the table next to us) that he is the owner of the hotel, and that they have another property in town where they will throw a small get together for their family and friends, as well as for the guests of the two hotels. We were sold by the time he mentioned free food. The day went with a walk of “couple miles” to the town to hunt a working atm, and to grab some supplies – and by couple miles I do mean couple miles on the map, which ended up taking 1½ hours of walking to cover. And in the evening, the parteee! And by parteee! I do ofc mean some free food, some evergreen songs along with some local hits being played by a band, and some arrack that was offered to us by this lovely, a bit older, British couple from Brighton (if my memory serves me correctly). In some point after the midnight the locals even put up a dance floor (not that I would partake in such a folly!) All in all it was a nice change to the all too Finnish way of celebrating the New Year, getting pissed before midnight.

***

In the next couple days we tried to go touring the ruins first by bike, and later on by a tuk tuk, but both ended up being relatively unsuccessful endevors – first bike trip got us all the way to the other side of Thissa Wewa, but we had to turn back before reaching any ruins and on the second try we ended up just checking out the local rocks’n’caves, which had once housed some rebel monks of some significance. On our try with the Tuk, we found it impossible to get the driver understand (due to total language barrier, so high and mighty that it have have made Mr. Trupmf proud) that we wanted to pay for the admission and see as much of the area as possible. So we ended up sneaking in to the area from the back and visiting only a couple places that could be accessed for free if you were bold enough.

First was a three millenia old monastery, which offered us little more besides the age, couple cool carvings and a cave full of bats. Second, the Sri Maha Bodhi, that is said to be a sapling from the very same bodhi tree under which the first Buddha reached nirvana – proven records of it go back something like 2500 years – an extremely holy place for Buddhists, not only in Sri Lanka, but in general. But again, it did nothing for me, and made me just feel a bit awkward. The third place though was a bit different, the smallest of the three great Dagobas of Anuradhapura, still standing at imposing 55 meters tall and surrounded by carvings, and set among ruins on palaces and holy places alike. And even better,we ended up there just before the beginning of a ceremony where they wrap a colorful cloth around the base of the dagoba – we witnessed a 200m long column of singing and chanting people crawl into the area and slowly around the building itself – and from what I heard a tour guide tell to a group next to us, this whole ceremony happens only once a year. It was rather absurd feeling to see something so rare, so ancient and still so vibrant happen. The fourth place was one smaller, and by the looks less important, dagoba at the outskirts of the historical area – it was somewhat in ruins, but clearly still in religious use, and offered us a view of the construction of those things – the biggest ones are said to be made from such an outrageous amount of bricks that each could be turned into housing for 25.000 people.

All in all Anuradhapura was still a tiny disappointment, even though we knew that it is very much vibrant pilgrimage site – but knowing that there would have been much more to see left us wanting.

Tissa Weva	Ruwanvelisaya, the third biggest dagoba in Auradhapura
The wrapping ceremony	The dog whisperer at work, befriending every last flea bag in the country
The rock temple

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On third of January, we went for more though, and took a bus to Polonnaruwa, the other nearby ruined capital of the Singhalese nations. The bus trip there went pretty much like the journey to Anuradhapura, once again we sat in the five lane super express to aching arses – especially as this time our driver seemed to have been learning to drive rally in Finland, I hadn’t been thrown around in a vehicle in such a way since my time as a conscript!

The first of our two nights in Polonnaruwa went just chilling at the hotel, which was located at the side of a small bay on the river (or more like a channel, as that waterway had also been crafted by the ancient Singha kingdoms) that was flowing through the old town. The rest was indeed in order, as in the morning, after some fight with finding a suitable bike for Jenny,we went to do our tour in the ruins. This time the fortune favored us and we finally got into the area without problems (other than finding the ticket office at the local museum and having to fend of quite a few people selling trinkets.) And boy, was the experience on a wholly different level than in Anuradhapura – the ruins stood along a 5km path of tiled, and somewhat cleared swatch of jungle. The trees stood mixed with the ruins, giving just enough shade to keep the conditions nice and mild even at the heat of the day. And there were ruins everywhere, and most locations did seem different enough from the others – though the smallest sites did get a bit repetitive. Besides that, we even ended up regretting that we did not set out even earlier, as the 7 hours we got was not enough to see more than about half of the sites – and in some cases we heard that there would have been even more cool things to see, like the top of an over 200m wide base of a ruined dagoba, that was still being excavated. The history buff in me was finally satisfied (for a moment at the least)! On our way out, we suddenly found ourselves besieged by a herd of cows, that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere and that refused to move even when a car driver honked the horn and flashed the lights at them – he had to shoo em out of the way by hand and after that we could sneak past em as well. The return trip was still quite exciting as we ended up taking another route than the one we came in and ended up driving along the busy road that went along the channel – driving among the traffic on a road a tiny bit too narrow in almost full darkness was somewhat nerve wrecking. In the morning before we had to head back to Negombo, we finally saw the white tailed deer the hotel was famous for – fighting over some leftovers with dogs and monkeys!

The place complex of Polonnaruwa
The kinda trees that filled most of the Polonnaruwa ruins	Royal pool
The facade of one of the many temples in Polonnaruwa	The deer