A few weeks ago, the only thing standing between Sri Lanka and me was a wedding in my village. We had been planning months ahead for this. There were large crowds and pig feasts to be expected, traditional clothes, and a ceremony. The son of our fearless leader was to be wed!
What we found instead was that the wedding had been canceled the night before because, well actually, we don’t know why. So what we found instead was a group of men that had been drinking moonshine, listening to Akon, and may have forgotten they’d invited us to dinner.
It was the longest dinner of my life. Well, until I sat on the bee. THEN it was the longest dinner of my life. I don’t want to throw a fit and say I’m allergic to bees….. but my reactions tend to be worse than others.
“Oh, it’ll be fine in 20 minutes,” they said.
So in the morning I drove my now throbbing and swollen ass 2 hours to town on my scooter, over bumpy roads. Loaded onto a plane for a flight to Bali. Sat in a taxi for a few hours and loaded another plane on a 3 hour flight to Malaysia. But no big deal – we only had an 8 hour lay over there.
The KL(Kuala Lumpur) airport is apparently one of the busiest airports in the world. Who knew. So arriving at midnight gave us the great disadvantage of not getting a prime sleeping place…anywhere.
That’s fine though because 7-11 was open and they had beer. So we loitered and drank cold beer until the wee hours of the morning when it was finally time to give up. But where to go? Ah, yes, the cement floor in front of the arrivals gate. Until we got evicted.
Being woken to somebody saying ‘You can’t sit or sleep here,” removing the fortress walls we’d built our unbreakable fort out of and giving us the stink eyes. Looking around us to see none of the other people sleeping next to pillars being evicted. The only thing we could do was carry on.
So we nestled in under the escalator where the riders of the opposing escalator could look down on us in our pitiful state with great distaste. After almost 24 hours of travelling, my bee sting has now turned into a Brazilian Butt Lift. Just in time to get on another plane for 4 hours.
It turns out that Sri Lanka is hotter AND more humid than Indonesia. This is good and all…unless you are wearing jeans, have a bee sting on your ass, and have to sit in an embassy for a while, then run around in circles in a new and foreign town trying to figure out how to make magic happen, and then go back to the embassy, still in jeans & still with a bee sting.
The saving grace? What could possibly repent for my misfortune? How could this bee sting ever be forgotten?
The food. The tea. The spices. The transportation. The people. The tuk tuks. The temples. The smells. The beach. The sunsets. The train. The markets. The festivals. The public bus. The man that offered to show me his cobra OR his baby monkey – whichever I’d preferred. The local bar. The music.
I was having such great fun that I decided to indulge a little. We were staying at a guest house that had a massage school for the blind set up downstairs. Blind massage, why not! First time for everything!
It was a great massage – he found all my kinks and sore muscles. It was nice…until he noticed my right side was all tight and he started working it out and asking me if I had a calcium deficiency. I couldn’t think of why my whole right side could possibly be in pain. Until he started beating my ass like a meat tenderizer. Only then did I remember the bee sting and the 30 or so hours I spent sitting my right side on an inflatable neck pillow I’d bought at the KL airport.
Although I would have preferred to do Sri Lanka without a bee sting – I had the most amazing time. It is a beautiful place with wonderful, beautiful people. The food is heavenly & I’ve never enjoyed tea as much as I did there. The train is the best way to travel, so is the bus, and so are tuk tuks. The ocean is never ending and the views are dramatic. If you get the chance – GO, I say, go. And when you get there – don’t stop eating until you must be rolled out of the country.
What we found instead was that the wedding had been canceled the night before because, well actually, we don’t know why. So what we found instead was a group of men that had been drinking moonshine, listening to Akon, and may have forgotten they’d invited us to dinner.
It was the longest dinner of my life. Well, until I sat on the bee. THEN it was the longest dinner of my life. I don’t want to throw a fit and say I’m allergic to bees….. but my reactions tend to be worse than others.
“Oh, it’ll be fine in 20 minutes,” they said.
So in the morning I drove my now throbbing and swollen ass 2 hours to town on my scooter, over bumpy roads. Loaded onto a plane for a flight to Bali. Sat in a taxi for a few hours and loaded another plane on a 3 hour flight to Malaysia. But no big deal – we only had an 8 hour lay over there.
The KL(Kuala Lumpur) airport is apparently one of the busiest airports in the world. Who knew. So arriving at midnight gave us the great disadvantage of not getting a prime sleeping place…anywhere.
That’s fine though because 7-11 was open and they had beer. So we loitered and drank cold beer until the wee hours of the morning when it was finally time to give up. But where to go? Ah, yes, the cement floor in front of the arrivals gate. Until we got evicted.
Being woken to somebody saying ‘You can’t sit or sleep here,” removing the fortress walls we’d built our unbreakable fort out of and giving us the stink eyes. Looking around us to see none of the other people sleeping next to pillars being evicted. The only thing we could do was carry on.
So we nestled in under the escalator where the riders of the opposing escalator could look down on us in our pitiful state with great distaste. After almost 24 hours of travelling, my bee sting has now turned into a Brazilian Butt Lift. Just in time to get on another plane for 4 hours.
It turns out that Sri Lanka is hotter AND more humid than Indonesia. This is good and all…unless you are wearing jeans, have a bee sting on your ass, and have to sit in an embassy for a while, then run around in circles in a new and foreign town trying to figure out how to make magic happen, and then go back to the embassy, still in jeans & still with a bee sting.
The saving grace? What could possibly repent for my misfortune? How could this bee sting ever be forgotten?
The food. The tea. The spices. The transportation. The people. The tuk tuks. The temples. The smells. The beach. The sunsets. The train. The markets. The festivals. The public bus. The man that offered to show me his cobra OR his baby monkey – whichever I’d preferred. The local bar. The music.
I was having such great fun that I decided to indulge a little. We were staying at a guest house that had a massage school for the blind set up downstairs. Blind massage, why not! First time for everything!
It was a great massage – he found all my kinks and sore muscles. It was nice…until he noticed my right side was all tight and he started working it out and asking me if I had a calcium deficiency. I couldn’t think of why my whole right side could possibly be in pain. Until he started beating my ass like a meat tenderizer. Only then did I remember the bee sting and the 30 or so hours I spent sitting my right side on an inflatable neck pillow I’d bought at the KL airport.
Although I would have preferred to do Sri Lanka without a bee sting – I had the most amazing time. It is a beautiful place with wonderful, beautiful people. The food is heavenly & I’ve never enjoyed tea as much as I did there. The train is the best way to travel, so is the bus, and so are tuk tuks. The ocean is never ending and the views are dramatic. If you get the chance – GO, I say, go. And when you get there – don’t stop eating until you must be rolled out of the country.