Independence Day

Getting back to Hikkaduwa from Mirissa was straight forward; flag down a bus outside the hotel and change at the Galle bus station. Two hours later we were in the Coral Sands pool bar at midday exactly only to find a notice saying "Public holiday. No alcohol"! Seems like Sri Lanka is very much like Thailand. Mike C would understand this: every time the politicians announce a public holiday or an election they ban the sale of alcohol to stop the locals getting drunk and falling over. Except it never stops the locals and only disrupts the tourist trade. Our friendly barman told us to sit round the corner away from the bar and brought a couple of bottles of beer anyway. He explained that most restaurants take the chance and would rather get fined than lose the custom.

Of course, being their 66th anniversary of independence from the British, the beach was packed with celebrating Sri Lankans. It usually is busy in the water over the weekends but this time there wasn't a white tourist body to be seen. The locals seem to enjoy the simple pleasures with enthusiasm, leaping about the sea, burying their children in the sand and playing some lethal ad hoc games of cricket on the beach ('ware flying cricket bats!). Being the only white face in the multitude it wasn't long before one young lad came up and asked me where I was from. As soon as it became apparent that I was harmless I was holding court with seven or eight smiling lads who wanted to know how cold it was in England and whether I wanted to join them in their cricket match. Cue much pantomiming and falling about to get around the language barrier. It was a lot of fun.

At Mamas a few hours later, there was a similar palaver. We had to have our drinks pre-poured into nondescript receptacles but I noticed a group of local lads at the next table had empty bottles of Grants whisky and Bacardi and were well pissed. One guy went for a sunset swim but was quite incapable of getting out of the water. So much for the alcohol ban. Mind you, by the end of the evening I wasn't much better!

And there it was, all over. A couple more days of cold beers, jumbo prawns in garlic, and alcoholic soulful sunsets that now has us at the point where we are organising a 0200 hours alarm call so that our local rep can drive us back to the airport tomorrow (hopefully). Thanks for reading and thanks for all the comments. See you in a miserable bar in England sometime . . .

Oh yes, an one final montage of images (not for you but to keep me depressed in the coming months) . . .