Arrival

Blog day 3

ARRIVAL

It seemed as if we had entered the orient as soon as I boarded the Sri Lankan airways flight in London. We were greeted by beautiful hostesses in Turquoise saris emblazoned with peacock tails design who gave us the traditional greeting with hands together and “Ayubowan”- “ may you have long life”. The plane was full of nose- tickling smells of spices and subtle perfumes. I was very fortunate to have a whole four seat row to myself, so when it was time to settle down for some sleep I could lie down and stretch out. It was pity that two, young English girls in front of me spent the night drinking heavily and talking in loud voices.  Ah, the English, such good manners, we have!

The arrival in Sri Lanka was what one might imagine. The first view was of palm trees in the early morning, grey light. However, gradually the cocophony of noise and bustle increased. After some anxious moments, in arrivals my hostess rushed in a little flustered because the flight had landed nearly half an hour earlier than originally tabled. However I had told myself all would be well and had been content to wait and watch people coming and going.

A very smart four by four drew up with her driver, very slight man, who made astonishingly light work of lifting my HUGE and heavy suitcase  into the back and then we made the long journey home.  It was long because it was rush hour and there was a great deal of traffic and people. Picture any film of a bustling Asian city and you have the scene. Sentinel upon sentinel of smart ,traffic police blowing whistles and directing traffic in white gloves who don’t appear to make any difference to the tangled, noisy weaving of all sorts of vehicles- many, many tak taks and decorated, private buses with improbable names like “ Praise the Lord” and “ City of Verona”. There were fewer private cars but wonderful,  wooden lorries, beautifully painted and decorated. Lots of children were perched on the handlebars of their father’s bicycle or scooter and appeared completely at ease in the mayhem of hooting and tooting and rushing traffic.

We passed mile after mile of seedy looking shops and buildings and bright beautiful people on their way to work or school. All the school children were immaculately turned out, the girls with shiny hair in plaits with matching coloured ribbons and white dresses.  The boys in white shirts and trousers and with smooth, glossy hair. Hardly anyone looked dirty or unkempt. Even when we passed through what was described to me as a slum area, a woman in elegant sari and immaculately coifed hair climbed up from its dank and dirty depths to the road. A man in a sarong was dressing in a freshly pressed shirt from a roadside cleaners. Not a pair of ripped jeans in sight!

It is quite hard to adjust to a life with servants and to refrain from picking up plates to take to the kitchen etc. The house is beautiful and cool, simply furnished with elegant, dark furniture and cream covered sofas and rattan chairs. The garden is a delight. They based the design on a Maharajah’s garden in India and each shrub or tree looks to have been placed with care to create the maximum effect. I hope to draw some of the plants while I am here. It doesn’t look a though I will be short of leisure time. Which is wonderful!