I spend my last few days in Sri Lanka in the lively town of Kandy. The Temple of the Tooth houses a tooth of Buddha and is the largest shrine of the Sri Lankan Buddhists. Every day, thousands of people flock to the large temple complex directly on Kandy Lake in an alcohol-free October festival atmosphere.
In front of it, dozens of traders loudly offer flowers as sacrificial offerings. Their market cries sound like a spastic tuktuk stuttering through rush hour on speed. I walk past them almost every day – and fail every time I try not to grin. (more…)
Nuwara Eliya & the end of the world
From Kandy, I join two fun Swiss kiters for a trip to the Sri Lankan tea centre. We take the train early in the morning to Nuwara Eliya, just 40 kilometres away by air. The journey takes five hours and runs for around 125 kilometres, constantly ascending through endless tea plantations and jungle. The open doors are my panoramic viewpoint.
At 2000 metres above sea level, Nuwara Eliya is the highest town in Sri Lanka. It was founded in the 19th century by the heat-stricken British colonial rulers, and numerous buildings still bear witness to this today. Our accommodation is an enchanted little hostel in the style of Peter Pan: a bamboo courtyard and stream garnished with tree-trunk furniture, surrounded by small two-storey huts. King Fern Cottages. Fine. (more…)
Kandy
Only 3 hours minivanab Kalpitiya, 1 hour tuktuk roadkill through the Colombo rush hour, 4 hours waiting at the railway station, twice being blown off the kitebag by the sound pressure of departing trains and 3 hours panoramic train into the mountains away lies Kandy, the old royal city of Sri Lanka in the foothills of the mountains at an altitude of 500 metres.
Kandy is a completely different world, one that immediately enchants me, a colourful mixture of Shangri-La and small city, chaotic, loud and quiet. The evening traffic jam is interspersed with drums and mantras from the numerous monasteries. There’s a Burger King, and right next door is the Hotel Muslim, where I cleanse myself of two weeks of British food with roti, naan, curry, fresh fruit juices and candied fruit. (more…)
Of Mad Max & Mega Downwinders
My three weeks in Kalpitiya are coming to an end. It was a strange time. A lot happened, but little happened. Towards the end of the season, the wind bucked more and more violently, completely overpowered to the point of sinking every second was the standard. Landing was often difficult and many kites formed intimate relationships with the trees in SriLankaKite.
On the penultimate day, we took three boats 25 kilometres out into the upper lagoon of Puttalam to Magic Island. I do the whole trip with the chiefs as a downwinder. Thanks to the narrow lagoon here, the first six kilometres are pleasantly flat water. Every now and then the kite sinks, even frontline pulling doesn’t help. There are fleas on the seaweed in the 10cm deep water, and they bite like jellyfish. (more…)
To every order its costume!
I have been living in the climes of my new order, Srilankakite, for some time now. Our colourful habit refers to the difficult local wind conditions. My monk brothers are adorned with the inscription “Gusty ain’t for pussy”, my nun sisters proudly wear the slogan “Size does matter” on their chests. Both remind us daily how much nature is our master here.
Our daily routine is characterised by the same meditative sequence of our monastic tasks: eat, kite, work, eat, kite, eat, drink, sleep. We perform our duties with the utmost fervour, some even claim that some of the monks have fallen victim to religious madness when it comes to “drinking”. Joining the loud music around the drinking area, their call “Arrack-Attack!” announces the next round. (more…)
Safari anxiety
Everyone is afraid of something: the dentist, public toilets, spiders, the infinite vacuum in Nazi brains or coleslaw flatulence in a full lift to the 43rd floor. I’m afraid of three things: Cruises, permanent campers and safaris. Fortunately, I was able to tick off cruises and long-term campers in one go two years ago on a Philippine ferry. That leaves safaris.
The thing I’m afraid of on safaris is the people. Yes, I’ve read Tommy Jaud. But beyond that, there’s still plenty of room for socks in sandals, safari hats and fanny packs as beer belly holders. Elitist champagne breakfasts in air-conditioned safari tents at sunset. The disconnection with nature in a snow globe. And the burning question: “Karl-Heinz, why didn’t your mum ever buy you a guinea pig?”. (more…)
Kitesurfing Sri Lanka: Kalpitiya
The road from the airport leads 120 kilometres north to the Kalpitiya peninsula. The name is hard to remember, but it’s pure onomatopoeia. That’s exactly what you shout on the water, with a long “jaaa” at the end. The lagoon is about 400 metres by 2000 metres. The wind has been blowing non-stop at 25 knots for three days now.
After the Tamil Tigers gave up their civil war here in 2009, development began – very slowly. The houses of the Muslims living here are more than modest. There are just a few shelters. Even these are not ostentatious. In the evening, the village gathers around the fishermen on the beach. Ravens scream from the trees, followed by the muezzins in weird stereo from two minarets. Otherwise everything is quiet. (more…)
The Author
Frank Woelky, born in 1973. Kitesurfer since 1998. Since 2006, I have been combining kitesurfing and web design on trips lasting several months off the beaten track.