Sri Lanka Tourism Blog

By Nav Raj Pokharel

The 15^th Summit of South Asian Regional Cooperation (SAARC) that oscillated between YES and NO until last hours of its preparation due to the rancor among political parties of nascent Republic Nepal was finally held successfully amid tight security in Colombo, Sri Lanka.

Sri Lanka, the host country of the 15th SAARC Summit, not only held the gala despite its many domestic and international challenges, but also showed the world that the country can develop itself as another Singapore in south Asia within few years, once the contentious group of terrorist is effaced from the legendary land.

When the delegates of the SAARC member courtiers were busy in Colombo, debating the issues and challenges facing the South Asian Region, devising a common ground to combat the challenges, journalists from many countries who gathered there to cover the event, were concomitantly keeping their newsy-nose alert to sniff and witness the news related to Liberation of Tamil Tiger Elam ( LTTE) and have the peoples’ real verdict on the issue. And, as a journalist, I too was doing the same thing.

My participation to the event and the visit to the country was the first. I had mixed reaction within myself- a bale of curiosities and trepidation - as I was visiting the legendary country amid peppering news of continued war and violence. My four nights and three days stay in Colombo but made me realize that the news related to government’s offensive attacks on the belligerent side, as disseminated by many news agencies, were but belying.

The LTTE that waged war now nearly 3 decades are capricious. They violated their unilateral announcement of cease-fire and killed dozens of people when the Summit was in progress in Colombo. Sri Lankan government estimates 5 to 10 thousands of Tamil Tiger separatist hiding in Jaffna bastion whom most of Tamil despise for their unreeling subversive activities.

I broached the issues of LTTE with many common people at market area, with the endemic journalists at convention and media centre, both the low and high-ranking Sri Lankan officers at lunch and dinner tables and during our informal and intimate talks. I tried to elicit their true feeling on the issue. Finally, I derived at and construed that Sri Lankan people are already fade up with the seemingly never-ending insurgencies. They detest it. They want peace in their land and peace in their lives.

However, both the country and the government have been withstanding the worst of the disruptive few. Although hapless they seemed, they have not given up hope to have peace restored in the country in near future. More than 90 percent of the population follow Buddhism, more than that size of population are practicing Buddhism in their real lives as well. That was most impressive aspect at the sideline of SAARC I attended.

I felt the aura on their countenance radiated with the realization of wisdom that Buddha had found many years ago, still illusive to many to attain.

The friendliest in their approach and attitudes, the most polite in speech and finesse, the Sri Lankans are the ones who suffered the most from the seditious acts of the secessionists. However, they have taken it as a penance and test to their endurance.

Many of us were lodged at Trans Asia hotel and the venue for the SAARC summit was arranged at Bandaranayke Memorial International Convention Hall-BMICH. The distance was roughly 10 kilometers. Every morning we were shuttled to the centre and back to the hotel for our safety reasons. The security checks we encountered were almost at every kilometer. But I never developed a feeling of fatigue seeing the security posts and their checking procedures. I found the security officials, who were perhaps dog-tired with duty, never lost their temper with us and with the locals. I rather curiously felt the checking as an opportunity to know them closely. They greeted us, and I was dead sure that the smile that covered their countenance was never a forceful effort; it was rather coming out from their inner soul. They would inquire with the local security person who was always at the front seat of the vehicle ready to response to their queries, if any.

I remember detail of all their body postures, cursory look of their eyes, expressions that would come and vanish immediately on their faces because I have passed through such occasions in my own banana republic.

I have developed a concealed feeling that security personnel are not human being. whenever I encountered security personnel in my country during the period of insurgencies, I always heard sharp questions in harsh and terse voice that asked me from where I was coming or going or both, and why I was late in my work. They looked at me as if I was the thief or leader of some gang at large, and as if they were waiting me to arrest. They returned my identity cards after meticulous inspection in such a manner that I would have been at their gunpoint, had I lost the card. Even a forceful smile on their face was a tantamount to irreparable and inexcusable slip-up. I had a different notion about the security personnel. But what I saw and experienced in Sri Lanka in very similar situation to my country bemused me, I should admit I was baffled in the beginning.

I also remember the driver of Rupabahini Television who drove my cameraperson and me back to our hotel after we finished feed at about eight o’clock in the evening on the first day in Colombo, as the shuttle bus arranged for many media persons left us with our work. Taking three–wheeler was risky without any obvious reason to corroborate, we requested the officer on duty at the feeding station and he was more than happy to help us. It was dark and the street looked deserted, as public vehicles were restricted to ply on the major roads of the city. I suddenly felt a jerk with screeching noise of tyres. I suddenly came to alert with a chilling cold running down in my spinal cord. I looked out through the window of the vehicle; nothing was visible in the dark except few lights on the street posts and red traffic light at the road square. With great effort, I asked the driver why the vehicle stopped? The answer suddenly changed my established perspective of law and order situation of my country. He said he is abiding by the traffic light. I inquired what immoral it was to ignore the light at the time when it is dark and street was deserted. He politely replied, “Who will if I don’t.”

Back at the hotel, we were given coordinators to facilitate our requirements and programs schedules. One of the Nepal’s coordinators, Prabhath Rathnayaka from the department of Government Information was another Buddha I met in Sri Lanka. He worked assiduously and relentlessly to cater our media requirements and movements from one venue to another. He gathered related information for us from the mini media centre set up at the hotel. The summit schedule was busy pressing us to meet the timetable, and so was he while supporting us at every minute situation. We had few hours to sleep. However, early in the next morning, he was seen greeting us, as cheerful and agile as he left us last night. He never seemed fatigued and fade up or withered in his job. Just like the Buddha! Calm and placid on every second in his life. And to my surprise so were other officers and security personnel at the hotel. I must admit I met many Buddhas in Sri Lanka. I was wistfully longing to meet more and more Buddha during my short stay there. My bad! I just could not.

Although the ministry of tourism had schedules for the journalist to visit the at various tourist and religious spots of the country, I could not participate in the free tour due to my pressing schedule to return home. I could not see the sea during my short stay in the country despite my irresistible desire to do so. However, people in all stratum of society in Colombo have made my heart dance with delight. I feel contented that I have met many Buddhas in the legendary country of Pundit Ravana.

Courtesy: telegraphnepal.com

Louise Heal, last year’s winner of the IoS/Bradt Travel Writing Competition, assesses this country’s plans to boost eco-friendly tourism

Five hornets’ nests hung down from the cliff. As we reached the plat-eau below, one of the nests began to swarm; a black, irate column buzzing from cliff to ground, a little too close for comfort. “It’s OK,” my guide reassured me. “We can wait until they’ve calmed down.”

We didn’t have to wait long. The hornets returned to their cliffside home and we climbed the final steps to the top of Sigiriya, the fifth-century rock fortress in Sri Lanka’s Matale district. The views made the climb – and the close encounter – worthwhile. The green forests and grasslands here host the Sirigiya Sanctuary and Minneriya National Park, providing visitors with abundant opportunities to observe Sri Lanka’s wide variety of wildlife.

Eco-tourism is being seen as a way forward for Sri Lanka’s tourist industry, post tsunami. Renton de Alwis, chairman of the country’s tourism bureau, announced Sri Lanka’s environmental ambitions at the United Nations World Tourism Organisation conference last October, pledging to balance financial growth with ecological accountability by making the country a carbon-neutral destination. Further details on are due to be released at a meeting of the Pacific Asia Travel Association this weekend in Bangkok. A 10-year plan to transform Sri Lanka into an “Earth Lung” began shortly after the conference, with a tree-planting initiative that saw enough trees put in the ground to offset the greenhouse gases produced by last autumn’s England cricket tour.

I got a taste of the eco-conscious tourism that could be Sri Lanka’s future at the Vil Uyana, an “eco-luxury” hotel about five kilometres from Sigiriya, where my room was a two-storey villa with a private plunge pool. This hotel’s attraction lies not just in the level of luxury it offers but in its eco-credentials. Five years ago, Vil Uyana was an abandoned agricultural site, before being developed with the aid of, among others, naturalists from the London Wetland Centre. Its aim to conserve the local environment isn’t confined to asking guests to desist from too many towel changes; visitors are expected to separate wet and dry rubbish in bins in the bedrooms and the hotel has a recycling plant for water and sewage.

Guests at Vil Uyana also benefit from the talents of the hotel’s resident naturalist, Nadeera, who I joined on a bird-watching walk around a nearby lake. As we strolled together, grey parakeets flew overhead while we watched coots and moorhens pick their way around the lotus flowers floating on the water.

On another afternoon, Nadeera and I took a bumpy 30-minute jeep drive to Kaudulla National Park for a spot of elephant-watching. We had only been in the park for a short time when we came across our first sighting: a mother with two calves. All three were unbothered by our presence. Not so the lone juvenile male we came across, which indulged in a little chest-beating.

But I didn’t even have to leave the hotel to enjoy the wildlife. From my private pool, I could admire a whole host of birdlife amid the paddy fields and reed ponds. (There is also a crocodile that visits the restaurant pool.) And three of the trees in the grounds are home to thousands of fruit bats.

Peter Bishop of Tourism Concern, a UK-based charity, believes Sri Lanka’s ambitions for carbon neutrality might be achieved, but he thinks the responsibility, ultimately, remains with the individual tourist. “As tourists, we should question whether we are choosing hotels with environmental credentials that benefit local communities, and assess our carbon footprint while in Sri Lanka,” he says.

Destinations such as Vil Uyana can help us make that choice.

SriLankan Holidays will give away a free holiday for every group of five travelling to the Far East, spicing up its popular ‘Mega 999’ holiday packages,

“Any group of five persons booking their holiday together will only pay the fare for four adults, with the fifth holidaymaker travelling for free,” says SriLankan Holidays, General Manager, Amith Sumanapala.

“As always we give more Sri Lankans the opportunity to discover new places, go shopping, get some much needed rest and relaxation and return with a world of memories.” The offer will be valid through October and November to SriLankan Holidays’ top five Far East destinations - Bangkok, Hong Kong, Kula Lumpur, Beijing and Singapore.

Apart from the popular attractions, fun activates and shopping opportunities, the Far East comes alive during October and November with annual religious and cultural festivals.

The Hindu festival of Deepavali or the festival of lights is common to most Far East nations and is a treat for any visitor.

Meanwhile, if your are heading to Singapore, don’t miss the God’s Festival - a celebration of the Nine Emperor Gods who are believed to cure ailments and bestow good fortune and longevity when they visit earth during the nine days of this festival.

In November, Singapore comes alive with the River Buskers’ Festival, where talented street performers from around the world gather on the walkways of Orchard Road, along the Singapore riverbank and Marina Bay.

Spectators can enjoy fantastic street theatre, comedians, contortionists, magicians, mimes, sword-swallowers and jugglers, all set against the glittering backdrop of the city. Meanwhile, holidaymakers to Bangkok in November can cast away their troubles at the annual Loy Kratong festival.

Held on November’s full moon, it is one of the most beautiful sights, lighting up waterways all over the country, with little floats (kratong) made from banana trunks, flowers and candles set afloat on the water. This symbolizes the casting away of troubles and a call for a happy future.

Buffaloes are traditionally used to plough paddy fields, though tractors are becoming popular among farmers. However, recent Vap Magul ceremonies brought buffaloes to the fore, evoking age-old traditions. A novel concept was introduced at yesterday’s Vap Magul ceremony at the historic Uthuvankanda paddy field, where elephants were used for ploughing.

The St Clair’s tea centre in Talawakelle which was taken over by Maskeliya Tea Gardens Ltd, was re-opened for visitors after re-furbishing and renovating. This beautiful 100 year old planter’s cottage has been restored to bring back its old world charm. The St. Claire Tea Centre offers the traveller a place to reminiscence of days gone by, take in the stunning panorama of two of Sri Lanka’s most beautiful water falls and just relax with a wonderful cup of pure Ceylon Tea.

Completing the perfect tea experience, visitors can enjoy a variety of Snacks including the famous St Clair’s cake as well as fresh hand picked strawberries.St. Clare’s Tea Centre is equipped to cater to 35-40 visitors at any given time and is ideally located en route to Nuwara Eliya.

Sri Lankan and foreign tourists who patronise the tea centre in search of a perfect Ceylon tea experience are guranteed an excellent cup of tea direct from the finest portfolio of estates owned by Maskeliya Plantations Ltd. The Tea Centre boast one of the widest selections of single garden and unique region range of orthodox Ceylon teas.

In addition to the traditional black teas, slimming teas, silver tips, golden tips and herbal teas, tea varieties such as herbal bath teas, and detoxifying teas can also be purchased. Many of these teas are packed in a wide selection of speciality gift packs which are very different to those found in other tea shops around the country.

Located 150km on the Colombo/Nuwara Eliya road amidst lush tea estates owned by Richard Pieris Group and managed by Maskeliya Plantations Ltd.

A company official of Maskeliya Tea Gardens said “The tea centre is mostly patronised by tourists from countries such as Japan, Britain, Middle East and Germany.

They find the ambiance very welcoming and teas full of flavour and taste. In fact Maskeliya teas are famous all over the world for the special aroma and taste it gives. Since its re-opening a few months ago we have attracted large numbers of local and foreign visitors and the place is becoming very popular among travellers.

At St. Clare’s Tea Centre, one can purchase tea packs and tea based souvenirs made out of porcelain, Reed, wood, leather, copper, platinum quoted, etc.. ranging from Rs. 500/- to Rs. 7,000/- in price.

The Teas that are packed in these come directly off best tea plantations in this country and owned by Maskeliya Plantations and well known in the “tea circles” across the globe as producers of the world’s best teas.

The care and attention given to the production, from the time of picking the two leaves and the bud to the final sealing of the packet gives our teas the unique flavour and freshness not found in any other tea available.

Catherine Leech was a career-minded singleton – until a yoga retreat in Huzur Vadisi, Turkey, turned her life upside down

As one of 22 strangers on a week’s yoga holiday, I dreaded my turn when our teacher, Simon Low, asked us to “share with the group” why we had come to the Turkish mountains. I had no idea what to say, but when the moment came a few choked words tumbled out involuntarily: “I sense change in my life, but I have no idea what. I’m looking for some clarity.”

Four days later, I was contorted in a pigeon pose, a challenging position for any yoga novice. As the blood-red sun set over the vine-covered yoga complex every part of my body was flooded with a red-hot wave as years of pent-up, unfamiliar emotion spilt out. The experience was both terrifying and a release.

During that week in June 2004, I found clarity: the light came on for this forty-something child-free singleton with a great career, an overdeveloped sense of duty and an overcrowded diary. Here, in the label-free peace of Huzur Vadisi, nobody was judging me. I wasn’t there to impress, nurture others, or be the life and soul. It gave me the space to realise that my sense of change wasn’t about finding a new job or moving out of London; my life felt shallow, materialistic and unfulfilling, and only I could change it.

Five months later, at the age of 46 and after 23 years relishing a varied career in the travel industry, with a well-used passport, I resigned as managing director of Caribtours, the London-based luxury Caribbean tour operator. I intended to teach English in a Sri Lankan orphanage for reasons that I cannot fathom. I had never even been there. I was still working out my notice when the tsunami struck. On that terrible Boxing Day morning, my father was the first to say: “Think what you could do using your experience in tourism.”

I arrived in Sri Lanka in late April, 2005, after six weeks travelling in Thailand and Cambodia – the first ten days on another yoga holiday, followed by three days in and out of a recompression chamber after getting the bends while scuba-diving. I was armed with someone’s name and the possibility of “doing something to do with tourism” for six months with something called Sarvodaya.

Established in 1958, Sarvodaya aims to alleviate rural poverty through the sustainable development of village communities. Its work spans social, spiritual and technological empowerment, with specialist units at the headquarters supporting a network of 15,000 villages.

I was a square peg in a round hole, a commercially minded “doer” working for a grassroots movement based on Buddhist principles and without a commercial bone in its body. But somehow, especially in the posttsunami maelstrom of overstretched management and challenging donor relations, it worked – and I quickly felt part of the Sarvodaya “family”.

I volunteered for the first eight months and secured funding to stay for another year. I developed a Community Tourism Initiative with various community-managed projects now operating. Each is designed to develop sustainable livelihoods by offering tourists authentic experiences, such as Sri Lankan cookery demonstrations and cultural performances.

My role was to find out the villagers’ needs, assess the tourism potential, develop project plans and funding and provide skills training and marketing assistance. I trained a Sri Lankan assistant, Jagath, who is now managing the CTI.

Living and working in Sri Lanka was not an instant transition, however. Ten days after arriving, I wrote in my diary: “My life has undergone a seismic shift. Colombo is quite unlike any city I’ve been to. It’s intense, steaming hot, chaotic, charming, ramshackle and endearing with psy-chotic driving and choking fumes. It’s a long story with fibbing estate agents, freaky old family retainers, armed security guards and nosy landladies, but I’ve found a small one-bed annexe, which is reasonably secure, clean and only ten minutes from the office by three-wheeler. London feels a million miles away.”

I quickly grew to love this beguilingly beautiful island, especially the multi-culturalism, ironic in a country racked by ethnic conflict. I looked around the table one birthday to take in the smorgasbord of Israeli, British, Australian, Canadian, Sri Lankan, American and Indian friends – Christians, Buddhists, Jews, Hindus and an atheist.

I returned to the UK for Christmas last year with no desire to live in London again. I rented a cottage in southwest Dorset, trusting the same gut feeling that led me to Sri Lanka. By the end of April I had moved in to my new home, a thatched cottage in the picturesque village of Stoke Abbott. I feel roots spreading, possibly for the first time in my life. I am building up some part-time consultancy work that will allow me to keep the logs on the fire, write a book about my experiences in Sri Lanka, spend time with friends and my parents, go on rambling walks, get involved in the local community, pick apples from my garden – and perhaps even fall in love.

At the time, friends and colleagues variously called me brave, foolhardy, mad, inspired, lucky, virtuous or clearly depressed. To me, it always felt like the most natural thing in the world. Risk or no risk, brave or foolhardy, I felt a driving force to plunge into the unknown. My experiences in Sri Lanka were enlightening, sobering, often hilarious, challenging, never dull and filled with fascinating characters. I have regained a sense of curiosity, a hunger to learn and a happy sense of spirituality, liberation and humility. I am proud to have left a legacy in the shape of the Community Tourism Initiative. I will return to Sri Lanka from time to time – I left a piece of my heart there and found my soul

Simon Hoggart embarks on a holiday in Sri Lanka with the kids — but this time they are the ones in charge

• Simon Hoggart
• Guardian Unlimited
• Tuesday September 11 2007

Where to go … daughter Amy’s advice includes a visit to the celebrated Dambulla cave temples. Photograph: Maurizio Gambarini/dpa/Corbis

When your kids are small, you inform them where the family holiday is going to be. If they don’t like it, they know what they can do — which is, come along and enjoy themselves. Or else. But when they’re older — ours are 21 and 18 — and you want them to choose your trip in preference to them spending a riotous week in Spain with their friends, you have to ask them politely where they would like to go. And it’s you who must like it or lump it.

Which is why we went to Sri Lanka this year. Our daughter Amy, the 21-year-old, had spent part of her gap year working in an orphanage there, up country, near Kandy. She and the other volunteers had been adventurous, using every weekend to visit historic sites, temples, national parks, the tea-growing area and, of course, the beaches. They met some delightful people, ate terrific food, and had a thoroughly exciting time. It was these places that she wanted us to enjoy. Meanwhile, she planned to spend a few days back at the orphanage, getting to know the nuns again, caring for the children.

We could not have chosen a better time. The fear of terrorism (irrelevant to tourists, so far as we could see) has kept visitor numbers down. Many of the best hotels — and Sri Lanka has some superlative ones — are desperate to fill their rooms and will offer eye-watering bargains. (”Rack rates” of hundreds of dollars a night listed on websites, and can be confidently ignored.)

What most people do is to tailor their holiday to their requirements. We went through Jetwing Travels, which also operates many of the best hotels. We told them our daughter’s recommendations, and a few days later they sent back an itinerary.

The package included an air-conditioned van with driver. Don’t think of driving yourself; Sri Lanka is not great on English signage, and the roads are less highways than social gathering places. Pedestrians flap a casual arm just before they cross the road in front of you, bikes and tuk-tuks (three-wheeled taxis) spring out of nowhere. It’s like trying to drive between the stalls in a crowded market. You’ll also want to stop and look at the roadside attractions: we saw kingfishers, peacocks, water buffalo, mongoose and hundreds of fruit bats hanging asleep from a tree, all on our first day. And the fruit stalls are more enticing than any supermarket: paw-paws, melon, pineapples and mangos, alongside the more exotic — rambutans, sour sop and the dreaded durian, famous for combining a stinking exterior with perfumed flesh.

Our driver, Mohd, was affable, spoke decent English, and knew plenty about the places we visited. So after two days recovering from jet lag at a fine beach hotel near Negombo The Beach, just north of Colombo airport, we headed up to the orphanage, pausing for lunch at the elephant orphanage (elephant numbers are down to around 2,000 in the whole country, thanks to deforestation) where we watched a herd bathing and splashing happily in the river.

There was a touching moment when we arrived at the orphanage, and the children who remembered our daughter were thrilled to see her: “Amy, auntie!” they shouted. The nuns were gentle and kind, and the children clearly well-fed, healthy and lively, though it is deeply sad to meet a three year old whose highest ambition is to be picked up and hugged.

So the rest of the family set off on the travels Amy had recommended. We started high in the hills above Kandy, at the Hunas Falls Hotel, which has stunning views down the valley and the most vertiginous golf course I have ever seen. I am no golfer, but even I know that a 40ft vertical drop is unusual at any hole. (They also have the one where you have to get the ball up 40ft.)

After exploring Kandy, with its temples and astounding trees, we headed toSigiriya, the greatest site in the country, a 660-ft high slab of rock topped with a combined fortress and pleasure palace, built 1,530 years ago by a king so evil he seized power by walling up his own father. The climb is steep but easy; you’ll be passed by hundreds of schoolchildren, and teenage monks in red, orange, saffron and brown robes. Our hotel there was the remarkable new Vil Uyana, built on water gardens, every room a small house, reached by a bridge.

On Amy’s advice we took in Polonnaruwa, one of the two finest archaeological sites, and the celebrated Dambulla cave temples. We picked her up at the orphanage, then set off for Nuwara Eliya and the tea country – you sip tea at the plantations, looking out on the deep, pleated, 40-shades-of-green valleys. We took a train to Ella, a journey along rickety tracks barely clinging to the mountainside, like flying at 10mph.

Our last stop was the Lighthouse Hotel near the old Dutch fort of Galle on the south coast. Here we spent a week doing little more than lazing and swimming, reading, eating and drinking. Sri Lanka offers a variety of food, but much the best is their own cuisine: fresh, zingy curries utterly different from the industrial sludge served in some UK Indian restaurants. Or you can eat in guest houses, negotiating the menu in advance with the owner, and a feast there will cost you little more than £2 a head.

Now is certainly the time to go to Sri Lanka, and it’s easily arranged by letting the organiser know where you want to go, and how much you want to spend. We were very grateful to Amy for her guidance. She will make a great parent: “I tell you we’re going to Sri Lanka, and you’ll like it!”

IF, as the legend goes, God created the world in six days, then it is entirely likely that he devoted the seventh day wholly to creating Sri Lanka! Paradise is a word too easily bandied around these days on the global tourism front, but in its application to this jewel of an island hanging like a teardrop in the Indian Ocean, it matches the description in every sense of the word.
Indeed, early explorers were in such bewiderment over Sri Lanka’s abundance of natural beauty—from golden beaches lapped enticingly by pristine blue waters to carpets of green foliage that make up the breathtakingly picturesque tea country nestled in the country’s highlands—that they coined the word “Serendib” (meaning a fortunate discovery by accident) to describe the island.

In fact, “serendipity” and “a land like no other” were two of the befitting names attached to the country long before it made its international mark as Ceylon (in colonial days) and later, in the years following independence, as Sri Lanka. The names alone bear witness to its richness and beauty, and the intensity of the affection it evokes in everyone who has ever visited the country.

But as chairman of the Sri Lanka Tourist Board, Renton de Alwis and his hard-working team take great pains to point out, the negative vibes created by the reign of terror inflicted in the north by the Tamil Tigers’ terrorist outfit do not in any way impact on the fantastic beach resorts of the south such as Bentota and Hikkaduwa, nor in the cool recreational climes of Nuwara Eliya and Bandarawela where the colonial British created a home away from home—with these parts more redolent of Scotland than any place you associate with in the orient.

Concerns about the “business in the north” are easily displaced by an ethnicly diverse people (whether Sinhalese, Tamil or Muslim) who are the most friendly and hospitable on earth, and whose gleaming smiles are worth a thousand words of friendly greeting. And dig this—a Sri Lankan holiday luxuriating in sun and sand (along with insights into a glorious culture that is over 2000 years old) does not only provide top grade recreational quality but the prices (whether you are counting dollars, euros, pounds or yen) are probabaly the most affordable in the world.

But the Sri Lanka Tourist Board is not just sitting back on its laurels. Explains Chairman de Alwis: “Today’s consumer is conscious about the environmental and social effects of tourism. With this in mind, the Sri Lanka Tourist Board has unveiled plans for a new and exciting project designed to raise Sri Lanka’s profile as a destination, offering socially and environmentally responsible tourism”

Outlining the rationale behind the “Sri Lanka Tourism’s Social Responsibility Service Project,” he adds: “The new plan is designed to bring greater numbers of socially and environmentally aware tourists to Sri Lanka, and to enhance their holiday experience while here. Local communities are the focus of the new plan and a key objective is building community support in the development of tourism.

To this end, the plan aims to link communities with tourism activities to ensure that the benefits from tourism actually contribute toward sustainable community development. Visitors to Sri Lanka who are interested will be able to take part in a community service project in one of five broad areas—carbon off-setting, child welfare, animal welfare, peace education and facilitation for the differently abled.”

It is clear that a growing number of tourists want to “give something back” while on holiday. This plan will give visitors to Sri Lanka the chance to fulfil this wish, and in doing so contribute toward the sustainable, socially responsible development of local communities. (To get involved contact the Sri Lanka Tourist Board on 0094 112426929, or e-mail prashanthi@srilanka.travel).

Whilst we were on the island, we had the wonderful experince of journeying to the hill capital of Kandy to witness the famous annual August festival (or Esala Perahera in the local vernacular) where every night for ten days, a specacular three-hour long procession of almost a hundred elephants coupled with scores upon scores of colorfully dressed native dancers, fire eaters, acrobats and drummers take to the streets in a dramatic exposition that is part theater and part fiesta.

The ritual is to bring out the scared relic of the Lord Buddha’s tooth that is kept in the Temple of the Tooth, which is one of Kandy’s—and indeed the country’s, primary landmarks.

Incidentally, the elephant is akin to being the national animal in Sri Lanka. And a magnificent tusker is given the honor of carrying the casket bearing the scared relic. Fitting that, since elephants in Sri Lanka were once royal property, and it was forbidden to kill them. Today there are just under 3000 wild elephants left, compared with nearly 15,000 two decades ago.

In order to protect the species, the Sri Lankan government has created an elephant orphanage in Pinnawela, which is not too far away from Kandy. Here care and protection is given to the many baby elephants found in the jungles without their mothers who had either died or had been killed by poachers.

Tea is easily Sri Lanka’s best-known gift to the world. As the biggest exporter on the planet of tea—unarguably the world’s healthiest and most popular brew—the Sri Lanka Tea Board is at the forefront of spreading the good word about the drink that in a quaint touch is still branded worldwide under the colonial name of Ceylon

Says Chairman Lalith Hettiarachchi: “Tea is what comes to most people’s minds around the world when they think of Sri Lanka. The main task of the tea board is to enhance this association by highlighting the benefits of tea to the market abroad, while at the same time promoting corporate social responsibility within the home grown tea industry.”

Sri Lanka’s tea country is contained primarily in the cool climes of the hills and valleys of what is known locally in the “up country” region. We stayed in the St. Coombes Estate where the Tea Research Institute is situated. And as its name suggests, the TRI is at the very core of protecting and scientifically developing the industry literally on ground level.

The picturesque and mountainous tea country provides for a contrasting holiday experience from the sun-kissed beaches of the south coast, and the cultural gems of the interior such as the 5,000-year-old Sigiriya Rock (with its amazing frescoes) and the ancient ruins of Anuradhapura and Pollonaruwa—all treasured wonders from the past. In fact, Sri Lanka is home to seven World Heritage Sites.

All in all, Sri Lanka has something for every holiday seeker, whether discerning traveler or just backpacking tourist. Rightly can it be heralded as the “Land like no other.”

We are just back from holiday in Sri Lanka, where we had a wonderful time. Tourism is sharply down this year, so it’s a very good time to go; nothing is as impossible to sell as a room that’s been empty all night, so you can get amazing bargains at some of the most beautiful hotels in Asia.

The reason tourism is down is because of the continuing fight between the government and the Tamil Tigers of the north, who have acquired an air force, or at least a plane, and this year bombed the airport. No doubt that was why there was an anti-aircraft gun on a tower next to our hotel in Colombo, though admittedly it is also near the presidential palace. However, the place is, for visitors, entirely safe. Avoiding it is as pointless as skipping southern Ireland because of the troubles in the north.

Luckily some of the shortfall is made up by people of Sri Lankan origin who return for holidays. Checking out of one hotel in an especially beautiful setting, a young man asked if I was from England. When I said I was, he said that he lived in England too, and had returned to marry. He and his bride, who had never left Sri Lanka - she was smiling shyly next to him - were on honeymoon. I asked where they were going to live, and he said Slough. It was difficult to find a really enthusiastic way to wish them well in their new lives.

As everyone tells you, the problems in the country are political and not religious.

In fact, the toleration is remarkable - to some extent because the main religion, Buddhism, with two-thirds of the population, is just about as unmilitant as a religion can be. Buddhism, of course, is about the search for truth, rather than telling everyone else that you have found the truth and they had better jump into line.

At the famous Dambulla temple caves they have signs from the “venerable trustee” asking you to take your shoes off before going inside, adding: “Whether any religionist, mannerly person behaves gently,” which I suppose means, “whatever your religion, show some respect”, though it sounds so much nicer put the other way.

Before we left, we airily told the tourism chap that we would rent a car at the airport. He looked very worried. “I really wouldn’t do that. You must have a driver,” he said. “You would have great difficulties.” And we would. For a start, road signage is in its infancy in Sri Lanka. Many villages don’t appear even on large-scale maps, so you could be lost very easily indeed. And drivers abide by quite different rules.

In the west, we work on the assumption that the car coming towards us will keep its direction, and we must adjust accordingly. In Sri Lanka, it’s the opposite: you drive straight at him because he will undoubtedly swerve at the last minute. Luckily it’s hard to get up to a speed above 25mph, so these heart-stopping moments occur in slow motion.

But the roadsides present a fascinating, miles-long panorama, like a strip cartoon or a tapestry. Peacocks lurk in the woods and kingfishers perch on telegraph poles; mongooses look balefully up at you, and fruit bats hang in their hundreds from the trees.

Schoolchildren are dressed in immaculate white uniforms, a relic of colonial days, I suppose. We never saw a pair of trousers or a dress that was even slightly smudged; mothers must scrub the clothes every night. A few Morris Oxfords and Austin Cambridges bump along. The stalls cluster together, so you will get a dozen fruit stands in the same spot. On the road inland to Kandy, we passed a kilometre of wooden shelving, devoted entirely to displaying inflatable toys - sharks, elephants, bears, Scooby Doos and Disney dalmatians from 101 Dalmatians.

You wondered why they were there, 30 or 40 miles from the capital. Do dads wake up at weekends and say, “hey gang, what say we all drive out for several hours and buy an inflatable giraffe? Sound fun to you?” If you want practical details, I’ll be writing at much greater length on the Guardian website soon.

While I was there I bought a fascinating book, The Museum Of Hoaxes, by an American, Alex Boese (Penguin). It’s an account of great hoaxes, from medieval relics to the famous fake Tourist Guy picture of the man in an anorak posing on top of the World Trade Centre as an airliner flies towards it.

Newspapers, with their short deadlines and need for sensation, are hoaxed more than anyone else, as the Cornish shark reminds us. The New York Times, the great grey lady, is a particular victim, possibly because they know that if it is in the New York Times it must be true. In 1874, its editor fell for the New York Herald’s hoax about wild animals escaping from the zoo. In 1934 it lovingly reprinted hoax stories about a sea serpent which pursued the Mauretania.

In 1999 it fell for “Ron’s Angels” a website that allegedly offered childless couples the chance to buy eggs from supermodels. In 1992, it published a glossary of “grunge speak” from Seattle, all carefully invented by a magazine called The Baffler. There are many other instances.

The Guardian has been caught once or twice, though nothing like as often as our own dear Times. In 1972 the Times believed that Thomas Cook was offering round the world trips at 1872 prices. Back in 1856, it reported that a train travelling from Macon to Augusta, Georgia, had been halted six times so that passengers could fight fatal duels with “Monte Christo pistols”. The slaughter had left six people dead before the journey ended. The paper stuck to its story for a year, until a reporter discovered that “Monte Christo pistols” was local slang for champagne bottles, and that empty bottles were referred to as “dead men”.

They have blended youth and experience, planning and flexibility, a raised eyebrow and a gentle smile. If Australia win the World Cup, the one-day game will move further into the laptop and towards power and fitness. If Sri Lanka win, it will be a triumph of spirit. The happy smile would have triumphed over the furrowed brow, writes Suresh Menon

In 1996, Sri Lanka crushed India’s dreams en route to winning the World Cup. Indian fans who tend to draw horns and provide tails and tridents to teams which beat their beloved heroes, somehow acknowledged Sri Lanka’s superiority.

It was as if they were saying, “If we can’t win, then you are our next choice.” A decade and a year later Sri Lanka throw India out of the World Cup, and except for some SMS jokes — which are more affectionate than vicious — nothing has changed.

Why do we love to love Sri Lanka?
The answer is — like Sri Lanka’s cricket — simplicity itself. A bunch of talented players come together as a team, with a heightened sense of their place in the scheme of things.

There are a couple of superstars, but they are focused on geeing up the team rather than calculating by how much a six or a wicket enhances their value in the endorsement market. As the team went out to field against the West Indies, the most animated pep talk came from Muttiah Muralitharan. He could so easily have cocooned himself, kept aloof. Yet here he was, as excited as a kid making his debut. It is a rare spirit.

The simplicity extends to their game too. There are only two types of batsmen — those who describe lovely arcs, usually over the boundary, and those whose batsmanship is made up of straight lines and high elbows. The bowlers have pace and cunning, or spin and cunning. And the wicket keeper is a weapon of mass destruction as he showed when he stumped Brian Lara off the medium pacer Chaminda Vaas or ran out batsmen by converting good throws into great ones.

Above all — and this, I think is the crux — this is a team which enjoys itself, and the players communicate that enjoyment to the spectators. There is something old-fashioned in the notion of enjoying the game. You are not supposed to in the post-modern era with its emphasis on winning and on calculating net run rates. But even Duckworth-Lewis smiles kindly on such teams as it did four years ago in South Africa.

Sri Lankans have raised their game to a level of simplicity that is startling. Coaches and laptop men have made cricket unnecessarily complicated, introducing elements that restrict the expression of personality. Luckily, batting such as Jayasuriya’s cannot be programmed in advance. Pitch the ball to him thrice in succession at the same spot and he will hit you to three different areas of the field. Like a master, he performs best when you call his form and class into question.

Likewise Muralitharan. He beat Chanderpaul every ball of a four-ball sequence with what looked like identical deliveries, but each did just enough to laugh at the batsman and skip out of range like a high-spirited child. The skill is impressive; the delight in exhibiting it even more so.

In a team of outstanding fielders — so Asian teams can field after all! — Dilshan Tillekeratne stands out, just as he stands out as a batsman. As a bowler he is a super sopper, drying up runs. It is easy to imagine that players feel someone will rise to the occasion, and therefore there are no crises. But to attribute to chance what is the result of hard work and professionalism is criminal.

For Sri Lankans are one of the most professional sides in the tournament, fully aware of what is expected of them, and fully geared to doing it with minimum fuss. But professionalism does not include being dour, or boring or pedantic. Sri Lanka have shown there is room for self-expression, for sheer enjoyment, for setting up unexpected challenges even under the umbrella of professionalism.

They have blended youth and experience, planning and flexibility, a raised eyebrow and a gentle smile. If Australia win the World Cup (they must worry they have peaked too early), the one-day game will move further into the laptop and towards power and fitness. If Sri Lanka win, it will be a triumph of spirit. The happy smile would have triumphed over the furrowed brow.

It is not difficult to love a team which tempers professionalism with spontaneity and moors high-spiritedness to effectiveness.
(source: http://www.dnaindia.com)