By Phil Jarratt
The train to Galle left Colombo very early, so few people actually saw the hideous spectacle of three large Australian tourists with significant baggage cramming into a tuk-tuk outside the Grand Oriental, although a great deal more were there to witness the ungainly dismount at Colombo Fort Station.
Our $10 first class tickets on the Rajadhani Express allowed us to watch from air-conditioned comfort as we rattled through the suburbs the Monday morning rush hour workers hanging precariously to the railings of the sardine-packed carriages.
The ride down the coast offered frequent views of windswept bays and choppy seas, but when we arrived in the historic city of Galle a few hours later, we travelled by tuk-tuk (two this time) just a few kilometres from the Fort to the westernmost corner of a picturesque bay, tucked away out of the wind where a range of beach break peaks presented themselves.
Our ramshackle accommodation, as it happened, featured a wide terrace that looked directly out at the surf, which could be accessed via a dodgy staircase and through the middle of a restaurant.
Within 15 minutes of arrival I’d rented a beaten-up longboard for a couple of bucks and was out in the line-up with the locals, who were both mystified and awestruck that some one more ancient than their grandfathers could still stand up on a surfboard.
They kept asking: “How long you do surfing?” And when I told them 55 years they laughed hysterically. How could such a thing be?
Actually, it was right about the time that I was starting that my friend Rusty Miller introduced surfing to what was then still called Ceylon, while passing through on the ship-based University of the Seven Seas.
As in Bali, it took quite a while for the locals to get into it, but since the 1970s they have become almost as passionate about it as they are about cricket. Although, it must be said, their skills on the waves are not the equal of their beach cricket, which is truly amazing.
Sri Lanka has yet to produce an international champion surfer, but if the best surfer in the water is the one having the most fun, then they are all winners.
While surfing the beachies of Bonavista Bay, I noticed a Dutch colonial building hidden behind trees on the headland, and that evening we trekked up there to investigate.
The Closenberg Hotel was built as a mansion for the P&O manager at Galle in 1860, and its interiors were styled after that line’s luxury ships.
It was utterly beautiful and totally empty, save for two guests who had apparently gone somewhere else for dinner.
We were served a private banquet of curries on the terrace overlooking the bay for $30 a head including wines.
We have checked into the Closenberg for a few days next week for a closer examination of its charms.
Next we motored east along the coast to Tangalle, where Ross and Di Phillips’ Tropicsurf outfit has set up a surf centre at the brand new Anantara Peace Haven Resort, set above another extraordinarily beautiful bay. Noosa local Harrison Biden is the surf guide, and he had a nine-six Firewire waxed and loaded on the tuk-tuk for immediate take-off the moment we checked in.
We surfed the afternoon out at a fun righthand point break at one end of a tiny fishing bay just a five-minute drive away. We were the only surfers in the water. We toasted our good fortune over a cold Lion beer at a beachside bar, then headed back to the luxury of the compound. And oh what luxury our villa (a courtesy upgrade) was, with a plunge pool and deck looking down the valley to the rocky cove below, and every mod con you could wish for concealed in its understated elegance.
While surfing the fisherman’s right with Harry and his mate Johnny was certainly fun, the highlight of our stay at Peace Haven was an excursion to the Uda Walawe National Park, where we caught morning feeding time at the elephant orphanage before climbing aboard a safari truck to spend a wonderful couple of hours getting up close and personal with elephants, crocodiles, water buffalo, monkeys, peacocks and birds.
Just when you think it can’t get any better, Sri Lanka pulls out another surprise. Not far from Tangalle we found yet another perfect little bay, with a golden beach leading down to a fun beach break right in front of the Beach House Bar, and a left-hand point just 100 metres up the beach.
Our accommodation at the Horseshoe Bay House was a splendid, breezy penthouse about 100 metres in the other direction, up a steep hill.
Hog’s heaven. We’re going back there too!
FOOTNOTE: The internet has been too sketchy to pick up any of the Quik Pro France, but how stoked was I to hear that Tyler Wright picked up her first world title! Couldn’t happen to a nicer girl, or to a nicer family.
