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Message: <blockquote data-quote="rochel1977" data-source="post: 18672991" data-attributes="member: 371">Day 15: Sigiriya to Anuradhapura <img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-D3d_XLxlI5U/VMjDJ5eXaiI/AAAAAAAAF2s/peij_4aAmIU/s1600/15aElephantSign.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /> Another pre-dawn start, as I slipped through cool dark forest roads, accompanied by the remarkably diatonic calls of Sri Lanka's melodious birds. This is the sort of twitter feed I like. And it wasn't just the birdsong that proved I wasn't in Britain: it may have been the A9, but you don't get road signs like this in Scotland (pic). <img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-39zbt6jmQHc/VMjDXCLBPgI/AAAAAAAAF20/HCzkuKe_-Jo/s1600/15bBlokesOutsideShop.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /> I'm into the flat north of the country now, and there's noticeably more bikes on the road. I was pleased to see this little gathering having a joke outside a shop which sells... well, the sign's self-explanatory. <img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vUmzO3EsoHU/VMjDi6jhCtI/AAAAAAAAF28/ZJV5AZL8Zq8/s1600/15dLake.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /> I got to Anuradhapura by lunchtime. The town – the ancient capital – is home to extensive and evocative ruins, which I'll visit tomorrow. For this afternoon I was happy just to trundle round the three local lakes (pic), sightsee some of the eye-catching temples, and practise shooing stray dogs away. (They're all bark and no bite. All you have to do when one chases you is point at it suddenly and shout 'GO HOME!', and it runs away.) <img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qY4JEFMyiOU/VMjDxO0S50I/AAAAAAAAF3E/Qtl2mQ3d3Wo/s1600/15cSchoolboy.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /> During which I also enjoyed seeing this lad cycling home from school against a typical Sri Lankan backdrop. As you can imagine, the school uniform doesn't need to specify a sweater or jacket. Day 16: Anuradhapura <img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cjEMyAwGkTg/VMoH9SCXE0I/AAAAAAAAF3U/2eN-6hRbjOE/s1600/16aDagoba.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /> A pleasant, easy day on the bike, exploring Anuradhapura's extensive ancient ruined sacred city, dagobas and stupas. I wasn't sure what a dagoba was, but here is one (pic). When this was built, about 1200 years ago, only two Egyptian pyramids were bigger. I'm still not entirely sure what it is, but it's solid, and made of an awful lot of bricks. Enough, it's calculated, to build a wall ten feet high from London to Edinburgh, which would make the A1 even more difficult for pedestrians to cross. <img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-F2JNS4zL6bc/VMoJ6cbc46I/AAAAAAAAF4A/QgCFmnYZq_Q/s1600/16fMonkeys.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /> Lots of monkeys live around the dagobas, and like to climb up the steep walls. It all looks very precarious (pic). <img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KvJgG516hhE/VMoIR0aSjVI/AAAAAAAAF3k/ZLii0lN_qag/s1600/16dVillage.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /> The ruins are spread out over several square miles, with living villages in between, making a bike the best way to explore them (pic). I was glad not to be in a tour coach, or a motor-trike taxi, constantly stopping at handicraft stalls. I was more interested in fruit juice. <img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xwwGruHh1Nk/VMoIc4RYK7I/AAAAAAAAF3s/Xu64JHRJUGU/s1600/16cPool.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /> I was rather taken with this pair of swimming pools, built around 800 and used by monks. The deep end is 17 feet, so they must have had a pretty high diving board. <img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KqnPXKXhdB0/VMoIof8bmQI/AAAAAAAAF30/6TkqabByKoE/s1600/16eElephants.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /> And I liked this frieze of elephants guarding yet another dagoba. But by lunchtime I was dagoba'd and stupa'd out (and had seen the Famous Two Thousand Year Old Sacred Bodhi Tree, which looked like, well, a tree). It was time to go back to town for a cheap and delicious curry, eaten with fingers, in a local restaurant, and some more fruit juice. (No pic - my fingers were too sticky to use the camera.) Day 17: Anuradhapura to Vavuniya <img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Yi69Ues0Mjs/VMt221ie4PI/AAAAAAAAF4Q/mK9oCmkEj7E/s1600/17aNProv.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /> A short day today, entering the flat, green Northern Province (pic). Until 16 Jan this year, you needed a permit from the Ministry of Defence in Colombo to enter. I queued up there to get mine, and two days later they abolished them. The checkpoints are still there, but the army officers now spend the interview time asking questions such as Is this your own bike, What is the weather like in England, Do you think Ian Bell is strong enough against the short ball, etc. <img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XhDJ4Pba2AE/VMt3EIO5HKI/AAAAAAAAF4Y/ROvH9Cg7BbM/s1600/17dLogMan.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /> There are lots more people on bikes in this region than elsewhere in Sri Lanka, some of them carrying enormous loads. This was one of the most extravagant (pic). I wonder if the army guys stopped him to ask him how he kept his balance. <img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ITMDQwJfDiY/VMt3ZFC4oYI/AAAAAAAAF4g/05mYbd8sbbo/s1600/17bLogMan.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /> Log Man was pretty fast. I overtook him, then when I stopped for a swig of water he passed me. It wasn't until the busy town of Vavuniya, my overnight stop, that I caught him up again (pic). Day 18: Vavuniya to Kilinochchi <img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-S3YhjIqJ3SY/VMyvocuxVLI/AAAAAAAAF4w/uV-mCfIA5FQ/s1600/18aA9.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /> The A9 reminded me of its Scottish namesake: in my 1997 LEJOG, it was also the most tedious part of the trip, with scenery unchanging from hour to hour, and an irritating headwind. The Vanni, as this northern part of Sri Lanka is called, is flat scrubland punctuated by small scruffy towns, with the A9 cutting a long, boring, straight swathe through it. Still, I did get some amusement: seeing a group of local road cyclists out on a run (pic). <img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JsZ4WF3ayfg/VMyv4QPs3rI/AAAAAAAAF44/YXHWLsPi1sQ/s1600/18bBikers.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /> Our paths crossed again later and we stopped for a chat and a snap (pic). They're the Sri Lankan Army Team, riding cut-down versions of the town clunkers you see everyone riding round here: 28 inch wheels, rod brakes, single speed. They were still a lot faster than me. <img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HIoLKO50UVQ/VMywRtnX40I/AAAAAAAAF5A/ZZQWblfe5tE/s1600/18cTemple.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /> In hot sun, with little sleep last night, and no food bar a breakfast muffin thanks to a mildly upset stomach, I was tired. I had to stop every mile for water as I approached Kilinochchi, my target for today. This is very much Tamil territory, as the technicolour Hindu temples show (pic). I wasn't too interested in the finer points of polytheistic representation in Hindu architecture though. I was just desperate for a comfy hotel bed, for an afternoon nap. Fortunately I got one. Day 19: Kilinochchi to Point Pedro <img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iXC5pIlVhUE/VM8gPVeiT9I/AAAAAAAAF5Q/sZfDKibJivg/s1600/19aElephantPass.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /> This was the hardest day so far, thanks to a strong headwind, hot sun, and weak legs from two days without proper food because of a gippy tummy. It was only 39 miles, but felt three times that, with around a dozen stops for water, shade and rest on the way. It started OK, with another dawn departure, and the traverse of Elephant Pass (pic): a rail-and-road causeway across Jaffna Lagoon that was the only access to the far north until recently. As a consequence it was fought over very hard in the civil war, and there are memorials to some of the battles here. My battles were trivial in comparison. <img src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-v5FKEKkaHB0/VM8gZjuit_I/AAAAAAAAF5Y/QLNvMm8gVUQ/s1600/19bLagoon.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /> I took some remote, pretty back lanes (pic) up towards Point Pedro. These went through tiny villages where curious locals all wondered what on earth I was doing here. Given my feeble physical state, struggling along a bumpy dirt road in the heat, so did I. <img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LNdDxZLs_qc/VM8ghFC1poI/AAAAAAAAF5g/IFtUB3Kq0uU/s1600/19cMines.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /> This area was a war zone until hostilities finally ended – after 30 years – in 2009. Military presence is still heavy, with several checkpoints, and there are many areas not yet cleared of mines (pic) – it's not a good idea to stray from the road. And I already had explosions of my own, internal, kind. <img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tbIVjD4OnWk/VM8gqQyLQpI/AAAAAAAAF5o/fzhfaldBNXw/s1600/19dSink.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " style="" /> I arrived at Point Pedro, the town by the northernmost point, at noon, but was too exhausted to do the official finishing stuff and photocall. That will have to wait till tomorrow, after I've slept about 18 hours. The only available guesthouse was the shabbiest, filthiest, most ramshackle place I've ever stayed. Washing my hands in the sink (pic) was likely to make them dirtier. I was a little worried about bringing my bike into the room, because it might have ended up covered in filthy marks. The bike, I mean. Not that it mattered: I was only there to sleep, with my ceremonial end tomorrow just half a mile away. </blockquote>

Verification: Dawasata paya keeyak thibeda?

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