The

The
silence of the night fell marking my last in Ella. My time
backpacking around Sri Lanka was nearing its end and I would wake
early the next morning to continue my travels alone, parting ways
with my friend that evening.

I was sad to leave such a place of magnificence in the comfort
of the hills. Conflicted on where to spend the last of my precious
days, I decided to make my way to Hikkaduwa, a traditional fishing
village unvisited by tourists at this time of the year. Warned by
many about the weather, but still determined to visit the south
coast of the island, I was hoping the rain would pass for the next
few days.

Three buses and 10 hours later I was greeted in Hikkaduwa by
torrential downpour. I jumped back on the bus; it was headed for
Colombo. I impulsively decided to make my way back to Nuwara Eliya,
to spend the last of my travels with friends I’d met earlier in the
Hill Country. When I arrived in the capital, I discovered it would
be impossible to make it to Nuwara Eliya that night and so I was
forced to change my plans again; Hikkaduwa was my only option.

The night bus back was eerie and my sense of solitude set in. I
arrived once again in Hikkaduwa, this time in complete darkness,
the rain now settled. I walked towards Chami’s Place with a pack of
feral dogs trailing behind me. Chami met me at the end of the road,
torch in hand, guiding me to my room. I was one of only two guests.
His hospitality was astounding.

I woke the next morning with an open mind, feeling content that
this would be where my travels would end, unexpected disappointment
turning into unforeseen reward. The emptiness and slow, simple life
of this coastal community was refreshing. I felt grounded,
reflecting on the past three weeks, finding tranquillity walking
along the lonely beaches and watching the rain from the balcony of
Chami’s Place.

@sumairaakazi