Wednesday 5th February - The Swinging Sporran Colombo

We are not big fans of buffet breakfasts in large hotels and this morning we remember why. Nothing against the food but the music is execrable. Home on the Range, Swanny River, Please Release Me and more. Eating curd and treacle as we listen to Lili Marlene is certainly a new experience for us. The food choices include Chicken Bacon and Potato Kiwis. On the way out of breakfast D books a taxi for tomorrow's trip to the airport. As we make our way back to the room the Muzak is Eidleweiss. Probably too late to rebook now. The sky is covered in hazy cloud and it is rather humid.

One of the bits of Colombo that we have not yet explored is Slave Island, an area to the south east of Fort that is undergoing transformation. Huge skyscrapers are rising but there are still some old buildings and streets to see. We set out on foot and immediately start to attract touts in numbers not seen a couple of weeks ago. This is explained when one asks if we are off the cruise ship. Our route takes us past the Headquarters of the Sri Lankan Airforce. A flagged car emerges with motorcycle outriders, travelling so slowly that the bikers can barely keep their balance. They process about 70 yards along the road and turn into the Sri Lankan EME barracks. We stroll through as the guard present arms. The Rio Cinema, reduced to a frontage, still proclaims '70mm  Todd-AO' across the building. Ask your granny.

Further on we look down a side street to see a rather nice gopuram juxtaposed with the enormous Lotus Tower that is visible all over Colombo. Apparently this is the tallest free standing building in South Asia at 356 metres high. From here on we appear to have left touts and other tourists behind. People that we pass on the street smile and wish us good morning. R feels quite at home in this area where businesses have names like Finlay's, MacKinnon and Aitken. One of the wider sections of pavement hosts a sale of previously enjoyed hardware and electrical items.

Humanitarian needs dictate that we divert to Odel's department store, a place that makes John Lewis look pretty down-market. Comfort restored we browse in air conditioned luxury admiring items for which we have neither space in our luggage or any need of whatsoever. The store is a bit like a Las Vegas casino when it comes to finding a way out. Exit is via a shady food court and we find the lure of an ice cream too much to resist.

Our plan is to visit the former Queen Victoria Park and stroll around, away from the traffic. Getting there involves going round seven sides of a figure of eight created by a double roundabout. The traffic is too heavy to risk anything but a light controlled crossing and there isn't one to cut the corners. This is hot work and when we get to the park we find shade and take some water. From nowhere an older chap appears who tells us that he is the Chief Gardener. He produces a laminated ID card dated 1988 that shows a photo of somebody who might have been him with the job description Gardener. He enquired as to whether we have an interest in trees. We know that this will require a donation at some point but we will get to choose how much.

He identifies a large yellow flowering tree as Acacia, waxes lyrical about the Hunslet locomotive that worked the defunct railway in the park, and shows us a Breadfruit tree, not to be confused with Jackfruit. The highlight is the Cannonball Tree with beautiful flowers and large round fruit that look like they could do serious damage if they fell on you. His finale is to show us a small cinnamon tree, rather disappointing after the previous one. By way of an encore he leads over to a large tree full of fruit bats. Every so often one of these takes flight, does a circuit and returns to roost. By a fluke D actually gets a picture of one flying. We hand the old boy a medium sized banknote and head off to look for transport. As rackets go it is more original and entertaining than a lot we have seen.

The tuktuk takes us to the end of the street containing our hotel. Just beyond home is the Stueart Hotel which, amongst other flags, flies a Scottish Saltire. We feel the need for refreshment and decide to pop in. There is a Tartan theme to the place which gives it the feel of one of Scottish and Newcastle's Swinging Sporran pubs from the 1970s. There is no pie cabinet on the bar but the prices are authentic George Street, Edinburgh 2020.

By now the cloud has burnt off and it is very warm. We need to repack into aeronautical mode for tomorrow so we retire indoors. The a/c is set to 24°C which seems pleasantly cool. At home we set the central heating to 20 when we want to feel warm. We need to juggle the luggage as we have a limit of 20kg each on tomorrow's flight. No business class luxury on this trip. We get things worked out, have a snooze and get geared up for the rest of the day. This is our last full day in Sri Lanka, two weeks that have flown by, and we have saved a treat until the end. As is only right for a proper treat it involves a train trip, down the coast to Mount Lavinia. All of the experts say eat fish at one of the beach restaurants there and today we are going to do it. We walk up to Secretariat Halt, buy our tickets and wait just a few minutes for our train, an S9 Suburban set. There is bags of room near the front and D even manages to get the window  and a door open to improve the breeze. 

At Mount Lavinia we walk to the south end of the platform , climb down and cross the tracks to the Bu Bar. Something is going on downstairs but we can go up to the raised deck under a thatched roof. After a few minutes a table right at the front becomes vacant and we grab it. Our waiter is keen to chat and somehow we get onto the subject of bird watching.  He is keen to see our photos from Bundala but we are dying of thirst so we send him to get beers first. The breeze and the view are delightful at this level. Apparently down below is filming for a TV soap that our waiter does not hold in high regard.

We chat through some of the bird photos while dawdling over the menu. D's first choice is unavailable so we dawdle a bit more as the sun starts to descend. We came for fish and fish we have. D opts for Grilled Marlin and R for Calamary, both in house special marinade. More beer is ordered and we watch the house menagerie in action. A medium size black dog of indeterminate breed comes to say hello and then lies down to sleep on the deck. Crows swoop in and out, perching on the rafters, while palm squirrels run up and down the main joists. Most persistent of all is a cat that watches our every move.  When the food arrives R is immediately identified as the weak link and worked over mercilessly.

The food is good and the setting fantastic. R describes it as 'Robinson Crusoe  with room service'. We stroll the 30 metres back to the station platform then D has to dash for tickets. R gets a seat on the train going back and D rides at the door. After sunset the light along the foreshore is amazing. As we walk back to the hotel we see the Lotus Tower all lit up.