More Flowers

A riot of colour in Haggala Gardens

The monkey and her little one

Roses

Captured beauties

Haggala Gardens

On Monday the 23^rd we decided to visit the Haggala Gardens. We planned on stopping off at Lake Gregory on the way back from the Gardens. Everyone else in Nuwara Eliya seemed to have had a similar idea. The road was a mass of traffic, while hundreds of vans and vehicles were parked along the roads. Just outside the garden gates were strings of little petti kade’s selling everything from water to food to soft-drinks to film-rolls and fruit and vegetables. Most of the stalls extended out onto the roads causing further chaos.

We stood in line and bought tickets – Rs.20/- for citizens and Rs.300/- for foreigners. I LOVE that… finally we get the idea! Every other country I’ve visited has similar differences in charges, and having forked out large amounts of money to see their sights, I think they should pay more to visit our beauty as well. After all, such lovely gardens do need tremendous upkeep.

The parks are beautifully laid out in a large acreage of land giving ample opportunity to stretch one’s legs (and them some!). We visited the rose gardens, the herbarium, the rock gardens, the hot houses or glass houses as they had called them, the seed collection (which disappointingly turned out to be some seeds in a glass case in a building which housed a canteen, with its garbage bins left in plain sight). We saw their little summer huts with their varied hued pointed roofs. We decided not to climb up the mountain side, having walked till our legs ached. They looked so great and majestic and for once untouched by buildings. Then my sister and daddy both went crazy at the plant sales outlet and loaded themselves up with plants!! Of course I too admit the plants are cheap there, but the thought of lugging them around gave me pause.

We sat down for a little ‘fruit’ break on a grassy slope beyond one of the summer huts and had the most unusual treat. We were soon surrounded by a group of monkeys probably attracted by the food. We were eating some Jambola and I gave some to a rather large patriarch of a monkey who had a broken leg. He was so tame, he took it from my fingers – gently too. I was lying down on the grass and he actually put his paws on my hips and leaned over to see what else I had to give. That gave me quite a scare!!! I had my camera and handbag lying just there and visions of the fellow running off with them gave me an unpleasant jolt. We took off from our interrupted break and found another large bunch of monkeys on the trees. There was even one with her baby. I managed to get a couple of pictures of her.

We also saw a pond in the shape of Sri Lanka, into which some morons had thrown plastic bags and bottles. Will our people never learn to leave beauty untouched??

Haggala Gardens is a BEAUTIFUL spot and a must see for anyone visiting Nuwara Eliya. The rose gardens alone are well worth the visit!

A rose from the rose garden in Haggala Gardens. Check out the backdrop

Memories and Tales spun by Aunty Barbara and Uncle Roy

We visited them this weekend. They were so happy to see us. Their beautiful home with the huge lace covered windows welcomed the morning sun and gave us a stunning view of their beautiful garden and the mountain ranges beyond. I remembered their home from my childhood when we used to visit Aunty Barbara’s parents, Aunty Meriam and Uncle Sam (Mathau). They were famous for always hosting parties and we were invited to many of them when we were in Nuwara Eliya on school holiday. Aunty Barbara is so like them with an open heart and home. We spent a couple of hours with them while they reminisced the good times they had when they were young and when Nuwara Eliya was much lovelier and more exclusive than it was now.

Aunty Barbara told us how they used to dress up and go dancing and then walk back in their high-heeled shoes and party-wear escorted by their gallants who were just that….. Gallant and Chivalrous; and how every little occasion, birthday, christening, graduation, first Holy Communion, whatever, turned out to be a party. Guests needed no invitations and the hostesses just catered to the numbers which would inevitably turn up.

The New Mayor of Nuwara Eliya had a number of compliments from Uncle Roy, who said that after a long time a Mayor is actually doing something for the town. They were proud of the white picket like fences marching along the park into town girded by the antique-like lamp posts. I felt that the fence would have been better pained in green rather than white….

Uncle Roy has green thumbs and Aunty Barbara is rightly very proud of their lovely garden. They had generously made up a huge bag of plants for Sunethra to carry home with her when she professed an interest in plants. They had roses of all hues, huge pansies, arum lilies, honey suckle, daisies, huge bouquets of hydrangea and so much more. To cap it all, a little apple tree which held wee red perfect apples stood guard by their back door.

We were invited to dinner the following night and had a lovely evening gathered around the dining table in gales of laughter with tales of the antics that Uncle Roy and Daddy used to get upto when they were young. A note of sadness that tinged the evening is that Uncle Roy had been diagnosed with cancer in the sinuses and has had several operations. He has another check up pending which he has been putting off from January this year. Uncle Roy still cuts a dashing figure, but is so much more slimmer with pain carved into his handsome face. Aunty Barbara on the other hand is a lively, lovely, warm motherly person whose instinct seems to nurture and nourish everything and everyone who comes her way. Their mantle-piece over the fireplace held a jumble of pictures of their family and their home, like ours, is open to their dogs who rush in and out of the house, regardless of mud and dirt, being very much part of the family.

Uncle Roy’s brother, Uncle Brian came to dinner too and had their dog smallie in raptures of delight. He is apparently her (the dog’s) favourite person outside immediate family. After dinner, coffee and long-long chats, we walked back to Unique View in the still cool night. What a lovely place Nuwara Eliya is.

A better View of the Lake Gregory 

Lake Gregory with a sea-plane taking off 

Changes in the beautiful town of Nuwara Eliya

View of the Post-Office

Daddy said the Post Office in Nuwara Eliya seems to be about the only land mark building untouched by so called development. The township was teeming with van loads of people, especially young men behaving more like hoodlums who had never seen a woman in their lives. The shops seemed straight off the streets of Pettah. There were shops for sarees, gold jewellery, electronic equipment and loads more, bringing the hustle and bustle of Colombo right into Nuwara Eliya, all spewing out loud music in their efforts to drown out everything else.

There is this huge bus stand slap-bang in the middle of town, with its own cacophony of noise with bus conductors and vendors calling out at the top of their lungs, not to mention the droning of bus engines and blaring of horns. The double storied building housing rows of little shops is the view you get from what once used to be entrance of the park.

In my opinion, most people go to Nuwara Eliya to experience Nuwara Eliya, its untouched charm, tea estates and its lovely climate. We seem to have made the mistake of creating another Colombo there. The beautiful charm is now replaced by spanking new buildings, several stories high to accommodate the huge influx of people who come in flocks, flood the city, ruin the serene calm with their raucous noise and leave the township to deal with tons of polythene, garbage and diesel fumes with very little resources to clean it up with.

Trees have been chopped down and everyone seems to be falling over themselves in their hurry to make money by putting up large ugly flats painted in garish colours which certainly do NOT merge into the beauty of the hill country. Huge hoardings deface the very mountain sides. Instead of awesome rolling hills the view is marred by buildings and boards.

I don’t know whether it was just this weekend, but the Nuwara Eliya was actually HOT. The ‘little England’ atmosphere was certainly gone along with most of its quaint charm.

Air-Conditioned Inter-city Buses

We decided to escape the unbearable heat of Colombo and visit Nuwara Eliya during the long Wesak weekend. So Saturday afternoon saw my Dad, Sis and I at the Pettah inter-city bus stand in a queue waiting for the bus. The scorching sun made us even more impatient to leave, though we had a long, long wait for the bus. The first bus left overloaded. We were the first in line for the next bus which was a Rosa air conditioned bus, all rigged out in dark red velvet curtains and tinted glasses. Having found seats in the little bus, we settled down. The conductor waited until take off and casually called out that the air-conditioner was weak and that no one was to grumble on the way. He also wanted five people to be seated in each row (including the middle ‘jump-seat) which normally accommodates four! He fortunately asked those not comfortable with the situation to get off the bus. I’ll bet he was chagrined when we took him at his word and promptly got off the bus which was already suffocatingly hot with all the sealed windows and the ac off. I guess most people just want to get on the way and not waste valuable hours in queues and would put up with all the discomfort it entails.

We waited in the burning sun which spilled into the bus stand for another while. There was this gang of boys all going to Nuwara Eliya as well, they soon made friends with my dad and in the almost forgotten chivalry carried our bags on board the next bus.

This inter-city semi-luxury bus left Colombo at 2.15 p.m. and once out of city limits stopped at almost every bus halt picking up standing passengers until the bus was labouring at walking pace. People who were seated, were uncomfortably crunched up, with other passengers hanging over them, leaning into them, elbows knocking their heads every little while.

The driver spent quite a lot of his time on the mobile phone and driving at snails-pace, while the radio or cassette player belted out music at top volume. Protests didn’t even reach the driver, whose one ear was occupied with the phone and the other tuned into the radio. We finally reached our destination at 11.30 in the night! It took us 9.5 hours to get to Nuwara Eliya. Unbelievable!

This is our bus ‘service’. Our people by nature are so passive that they don’t even grumble; they just bear up. One person said that he was scared he may be asked to get off the bus if he so much as uttered a word. And I can well believe it too. Even if one person raised his voice in protest, it would be a lone voice with no support from all the other passengers who pretend they are mentally (retarded?) not present in the situation.

We were lucky once we got off the bus to feel the cool climes reach out and enfold us in its misty embrace soothing our travel weary souls. A trishaw quickly carried us to our destination on Unique View. We promptly had bathes…. and freezing cold water bathes at that, to wash away the grime of travel and tumbled into bed. What a journey!

Rain at last!

It was such a sweet relief to finally welcome the rains after the hot, muggy days we sweltered through the last couple of months. I for one have no complaints whatsoever about it raining so hard that you can hardly see ahead of you for the sheer driving force of water bucketing down to drench and refresh the thirsty earth.

I love the way the earth smells after a good shower and the way the trees and foliage are washed clean and bright after months of being covered in a thick film of dust. I wouldn’t be surprised if children thought the leaves of trees were permanently brown rather than green these last few months….. I began to think so myself!

A couple of weeks ago, I was on my way home from class, on a bike with Chandana, and we got caught to such a ‘storm’ and the two of us got soaked right through. Poor Chandana’s ID had got washed right out and his wallet was soggy and beyond redemption. Fortunately we had the foresight to wrap our mobile phones in a polythene bag and they were safe. But in spite of the minor discomfort and of course the washed out ID and soggy wallet, I enjoyed that ride in the rain. Sheltering seemed useless with the gusting winds, and an umbrella was certainly no help!! Plus the rain did not seem to be in a hurry to cease either. So we decided to enjoy our impromptu bathe and wend our way home. There was a pagan kind of thrill in feeling the chill wind lashing through your hair and the chilled needles of water stinging your cheeks, while the wheels of the bike churned out a veritable fountain of water on either side of us as we ploughed our way through the swirling waters gushing on the roads.

We passed the Beira Lake and gazed fascinated at the misted view of the new pergola across the bridge where we could see people huddled together watching the trees bending with the force of the wind and usually calm waters of the lake whipped to waves of frenzy.

I was soon home, and after a quick shower, warmly wrapped up with a hot mug of cocoa in my hands….. everything was just right in my world!