Unawatuna was a 20 minute bus ride from Galle, not knowing this, we got up early and hopped on the bus. The bus dropped us off at an unassuming road with a few tuk tuks gathered around. After finding out that this was indeed the road we needed to walk down in order to get to the main part of Unawatuna we set off. Along the way we were constantly harangued by tuk-tuks drivers as we walked down the 1.5 Km street to our guesthouse. We did not find this promising. Nor was the row, upon row of beach front restaurants and guesthouses. By the time we got to our guesthouse we were not in the greatest of moods, but the room was a welcome comfort. We lay down for a bit before descending to the dining area for a some breakfast, which was quite a bit cheaper than any breakfast we had seen in Galle. We ordered coconut pancakes and some tea. I thought the pancakes were great, but Nancy kept finding ants in her coconut pancake. There may have been ants in mine too, but inhaled my pancake to no ill effect. In any event, it was the last time we ordered food at our guesthouse in Unawatuna. Nancy will later tell you about the place that would have been a better fit for us at a better price too (not to mention better meals), in Unawatuna.
Alright, so my stomach was feeling a little upset after our breakfast, but I didn't let that show as we walked to the Buddhist temple and stupa that was near by. We were having our doubts about Unawatuna at this point and these were not helped by the fact that the line of guesthouses and restaurants along the beach continued on, all the way to the temple. Just beyond the temple we saw that they were building a large rocky jetty, presumably to keep prevent as much damage from another tsunami, as was caused in 2004 when Unawatuna was devastated by the infamous tsunami that claimed the lives of thousands in Thailand, Malayasia, Sumatra, India and Sri Lanka. Though, by my reckoning, which is by no means perfect on this subject, they were building it facing the wrong direction. Its presence also explained the massive dump trunks that trundled by every now and then loaded with big rocks. Nancy mentioned that jetties are not very environmentally friendly because they cause more erosion in other places, and sure enough, when we got to the top of the hill where the Stupa was, we noticed a huge tail of dirt drifting out from the jetty and beside it. I was likely not there before. Again though, I'm not an expert so, perhaps that is how its supposed to be. I never seem to have access to the internet when I write these things, so I can never really research and I'm usually to lazy to do so when I do have internet access.
The Stupa itself a was a massive white pillar, though not as large (or as new) as the Peace Pagoda that I mentioned before and Nancy will write about later. Just down the way from the Stupa, on the opposite side of where we climbed up, we found something that kept our interest more readily. There was a large rock outcropping that formed sort of a sloping cliff into the water. Massive waves were constantly pounding into this rocky hill, sending up showers of spray. There was even a narrow place between two of these rocky slopes where the waves, when they hit just right, would form a geyser, blasting water up into the air and drenching anyone who happened to be near by. A few Russian tourist were hit by it while we watched. We watched the waves continuing to smash into the rocks sending up their misty volumes for a long time and we began to warm up to Unawatuna.
The warming did not last long, at least on Nancy's part. We walked back along the beach this time and realized just how close the guesthouses and restaurants were to the water. Very, very close as it turns out. So close that the waves were lapping against some of the structures. I mentioned earlier that Unawatuna was devastated by a tsunami less then 10 years ago. One of the main reasons for so many casualties was that it was so close to the water. So much for lesson learning. We had nowhere to put our towels down that would not get them taken by the waves and would not been in the lap of someone sunbathing on a lounge chair just beyond the tide. When we did find a likely place an older Russian lady told us that she had seen the waves come up to where we had just lain the towels. We gave up on that notion and asked her and her husband if they wouldn't mind us just putting our stuff beside them all folded up. They did not mind. The waves, even in the bay, were pretty large and we found ourselves being pushed back onto the beach by them upon first getting in. The giant waves stirred memories of my childhood in Vanuatu.
When I was a boy of about 4 or 5 I remember (not so clearly anymore) that I used to catch the waves just as they were about to break. I would roll with the wave, getting tossed head-over heels by them and being deposited on the sandy beach on my back, most of the time. I do still have vivid memories of my motion as I pinwheeled through the waves. Ever since, whenever I have seen waves that could toss me around like that, I have tried to recapture the feeling. Within reason of course. Now, nearly 25 years on I am a lot more breakable and I contented my self with catching the top of the waves and having them carry me on to the beach head first. It was still fun.
While I was having fun though, Nancy was having her own, not so fond memories of her own. She was remembering, on a beach not unlike this in California, she had been caught in an undertow and carried far out into the water. She managed to get out, evidently, but the experience had shaken her badly. After not very much time she got out of the water and sat on the beach. I sailed my way up to her on a wave and found out what was wrong. She thought that it was too dangerous here and she did not want to do anymore swimming. Her point was further brought home by the large (but shallow) gash that I had on my foot. We decided that we would not stay here that long after all.
After returning to the guesthouse and bandaging my foot and resting for a bit, we made our way out again for lunch. We found a vegetarian Indian food place that looked promising. I privately noted to myself that, if there was one thing that would warm Nancy to a place it would be good vegetarian food. And the food here turned out to be very good indeed. Also eating at the restaurant were two young boys having a bit of a tantrum and their mother (a British woman) and their aunt (a Sri Lanka woman). Nancy talked to them for a bit while I scanned the books they had to trade here.
My head snapped around when I heard the British woman mention that she was a writer. Nancy was, in fact, talking to Juliet Coombe an author who had written several books about Sri Lanka and more specifically the Galle area. There was a tour in Galle that was based specifically on her book "Around the Fort in 80 Lives" (we could not nearly afford to take such a tour). By the sounds of it, she has been quite successful lately, and judging by the big notebook and 3 ring binder full of pictures that she was carrying, she was working on an Unawatuna book. She is fluent in Sinhala (which she said was quite handy for interviewing people, but not always so good when you knew what people were saying about you behind the language barrier) and was married to a Sri Lankan man (which one look at her boys would probably have told you).
We caught most of this while we were munching on our astonishingly good meal and she was talking to an older English couple (yes, I guess you could say we were eavesdropping). That last little piece of eavesdropping we did informed us that she was in the process of becoming a Sri Lankan citizen, which was not an easy thing to do.
Once again, the food was delicious and by the end of her Chai tea, Nancy was saying that, perhaps we could stay a bit longer after all. While Nancy had her tea, I had some organic coffee in a mini french press. Sri Lanka is the land of tea, but as a coffee drinker, I need to have at least some decent coffee from time to time. As it was a french press it brought back another memory, this time of Yellowknife. Sometime during our first few years in Yellowknife my mother bought a french press to make coffee with. As I remember, she was pretty excited about it. But on the very day that she bought it, as it was sitting on the counter, I was doing something near by, I'm not sure what, I was obviously pulling on something though. I know this because my armed slipped and my elbow hit the brand new french press and knocked it onto the floor, where the glass shattered. My mom was pretty upset about it, though she did her best to hide the fact from me, but she's not very good at that. I felt pretty guilty about it. And, to this day, whenever I see a french press, that same memory always arrives in my mind and feel the need to apologizes to my mom for that misdeed. So, sorry mom, I'd buy you a new one now, but you have a much better maker of coffee now anyway.
We went back to the beach again and the waves were lesser than before. And Nancy was fully warmed up to the idea of staying in Unawatuna a bit longer. As we walked back to the guesthouse, we heard the music that the garbage truck in Taiwan always played (Fur Elise by Beethoven). We had heard it before and wondered if the Sri Lankan garbage trucks were also Beethoven fans. They were not, but, as we saw a few seconds after hearing the music and seeing a bread and pastry truck come around the corner, apparently bread trucks were.
That night we ate at one of the beach front restaurants and Nancy, now a bit more enthusiastic about Unawatuna, insisted that we eat at the table that was directly on the beach. I said that we might just regret that, and I was proved right after about 5 minutes, when a wave hit our table and soaked our shoes (which to be fair we probably shouldn't have been wearing). We took them off and continued our meal, which proved to be quite tasty. I decided that it was probably alright to stay a few more days too.
We ended up staying in Unawatuna 2 more days, about which, Nancy will be happy to tell you.
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