Sunday January 26th - In the Footsteps of Aggers

We want to get on with being tourists today so we are in breakfast two minutes after it starts. Thd Germans have already occupied the table under the fan so we take the other one that has been set. Looks like business is pretty quiet.  We start off with bowls of sweet yoghurt that could be called mishti doi in another place. This is served with 'treacle' , a sort of runny dark sugar sauce. Definitely not out of a Tate & Lyle tin. This is followed by large fruit salads and then omelettes and toast.  We are fully set up for the touristing.

First up we intend to do the circuit of the fort walls. The nearest point for us is the lighthouse at six o'clock so we start there and make our way round the western side. It is already getting warm but there is a pleasant breeze up on the ramparts. It is good to see that quite a lot of maintenance and renovation work is going on, with gangs of workmen repairing pointing and tidying up the footpaths. There is lots to watch including a fairly serious cricket match and our first kingfisher of this trip, a rather splendid white throated who poses on a lamp post.

We make good progress up to the Main Gate which is at 12.00 on the circuit.  From here there is a wonderful view of the Galle Cricket Ground,  responsible for today's thread title. The TMS team seem to enjoy their visits here. We are both drenched in perspiration by this stage and decide to take a break from the circuit. Last night the stitching on one of D's sandals gave up the ghost as we walked home from supper. Readers of Radinja 9 may get a sense of deja vu at this point. Rather than walk we take an auto up to the market area of Galle New Town in search of a cobbler and a square pin adaptor.  We have been slightly caught out by the preponderance of square pin sockets here in Sri Lanka as our collection of devices is designed for the round pin sockets that predominate in India. Passing an umbrella stall R decides that a brolly cum parasol would be in order. She chooses one in a lurid shade of green which will ensure that she fits in seamlessly with the locals.

The cobbler talkes a bit more finding but eventually a street corner hustler spots an opportunity and leads us round the corner to a hole in the wall containing a man and a sewing machine. The tailor looks, grunts, rips out the old stiching and runs the sandal through the machine three or four times. Inspection suggests a job well done and D cheerfully hands over 150 SL rupees, about 64 pence. We shake off the hustler by diving into a very modern cafe with a/c. On the downside it has Nestea so we opt for lime sodas and repeat the dose a few minutes later. Cooled and refreshed we go in search of the square pin adaptor which we find a hundred yards along the street. 50 pence with a label saying for export only.

We feel able to resume our circuit of the Fort and take on auto back to Main Gate. The Eastern hemisphere of the walls are undergoing major reconstruction so we have to walk the streets just inside. There is not much traffic but the streets are filled with photographers with assistants and lackeys, taking elaborately staged photos of lovey dovey couples. This seems to be a major industry in Galle Fort. Most poses seem to involve the couple sitting or standing in the blazing sun while the photographer and team skulk in the shade. There are some interesting buildings in this quarter, dating back to the 1600s when the Dutch were in charge. We find ourselves in the colonnade outside last nights restaurant which occupies one end of another Dutch Hospital. The far end is occupied by a rather noisy bar but they have tables in the shade and breeze on the colonnade and we decide that we deserve a beer while we plan the rest of the day. Hot lunchtimes often find us seeking shade in museums but the Galle National Museum does not open on Sundays. In the end we complete our circuit and retire to our windowless cell in the Secret Palace.

When we emerge a couple of hours later it has clouded over somewhat and is a bit cooler. We walk up towards the Railway Station in the New Town, pausing only to make a reservation for dinner and buy a few postcard size replicas of travel posters that caught D's eye. Our target is the Old Railway Cafe described as a bohemian craft shop with a cool cafe but the shutters are down. D has failed to spot that this also is closed on Sundays. To quell our disappointment we return to the balcony bar where we watched yesterday's sunset. There will be no repeat today as the clouds are banking up. On arrival back at the digs we are are greeted with our clean laundry.

Supper is in a restaurant called the Fort Printers, presumably a converted printing works. We have an inside table with an overhead fan, perfect on a warm evening. The place has some arty pretensions, with some pieces on display in the lobby and a manager who has one round lens on his specs and one square one.  R has Mahi Mahi fish, while D opts for a mammal option and has lamb tagine with cous cous. Both are delicious and not outrageously expensive. For pud we walk along the street to the gelateria and have ice cream cones which we eat as we saunter home the long way round.