Despite the abundance of visual beauty of Ceylon, my visit would have lacked something great had it not been for the music. I spent many a-days lounging on a terrace or porch capturing the heartbeat of this country. Here are the sounds of Ceylon.
Sunday
I Have Ran Through the Family
To my readers, a massive thank you for following me along this utterly selfish, indulgent, humbling, exotic and exhausting experience. I leave you now with some final thoughts.
Despite the abundance of visual beauty of Ceylon, my visit would have lacked something great had it not been for the music. I spent many a-days lounging on a terrace or porch capturing the heartbeat of this country. Here are the sounds of Ceylon.
This journey has allowed me to connect with my history that would not have been possible otherwise. To see what they would have saw, hear what they heard, eat what they would have eaten, to live a small piece of their lives, to return to my roots is an experience so powerfully intimate and I cannot be more grateful for it. The tangibility and actual understanding that travel gives through the medium of experience is unparalleled. Such an expansive,dynamic country, as unexplored as my ancestry, it is the perfect backdrop for any family tree. I have gained an abundance of insight, which provides me with some closure and comprehension as to who my father was.Yet only a small grain in a handful of rice is my knowledge as there is so much more to be learnt, just as there are so many more places to visit. That however, is for another chapter. Happy Travels my friends. Subha gamanak veevaa!
Despite the abundance of visual beauty of Ceylon, my visit would have lacked something great had it not been for the music. I spent many a-days lounging on a terrace or porch capturing the heartbeat of this country. Here are the sounds of Ceylon.
Colombo.
At last, we are in Colombo, the last leg of this exploratory journey. There is much to be done, much to see, much to talk, much to discover. Pardon my travel brochure dialogue.
First stop the Gasanawa Rubber Estate.
An absurdly large road splits the never ending rows of rubber trees.
Next up, the remnants of Palm Lodge, Lalla's prison and playground.
What used to be the Ceylon Light Infantry Camp
A Thalagoya! I consider the myth followed religiously by Lalla; the blessing of brilliant articulation held in the lizard's grasping tongue. You could say it worked for my Uncle Noel, he did after all become a successful lawyer. I spare both of our tongues and watch it walk away stoically into the grass.
And finally, St Thomas's Church
A Moment In Time
I freeze. Chiseled in the stone is my name. The sight is not a source of vanity, but instead quite contrarily, it is humbling. There is so much to this name that I have yet to learn, so many faceless names written in ledgers, all of whom are related to ME.
Couldn't bring myself to take a picture of the name, but a substitute will have to do.
First stop the Gasanawa Rubber Estate.
An absurdly large road splits the never ending rows of rubber trees.
What used to be the Ceylon Light Infantry Camp
A Thalagoya! I consider the myth followed religiously by Lalla; the blessing of brilliant articulation held in the lizard's grasping tongue. You could say it worked for my Uncle Noel, he did after all become a successful lawyer. I spare both of our tongues and watch it walk away stoically into the grass.
And finally, St Thomas's Church
A Moment In Time
I freeze. Chiseled in the stone is my name. The sight is not a source of vanity, but instead quite contrarily, it is humbling. There is so much to this name that I have yet to learn, so many faceless names written in ledgers, all of whom are related to ME.
Couldn't bring myself to take a picture of the name, but a substitute will have to do.
Statues of Sigiriya
An ancient fortress rooted deep within my ancestry. A history so deep its literally etched in the bedrock. It is here that I truly comprehend the depth my familial history and how I had only scratched the superficial surface of a vast chapter. I have much to learn and much to appreciate.
Snapshots From The Hills
The Origins of Ondaatje
My ancestor arrived in Ceylon in 1600. He was a doctor to be specific, and he cured the residing governor's daughter from a mysterious illness. For this feat, he was rewarded with land, and the Ondaatje family name, originating from a Tamil ancestor Ondaatchi residing in Thanjavur. When his Dutch wife passed, he married a Sinhalese woman, had 9 children and remained here.
Snapshots From The Hills
The Origins of Ondaatje
My ancestor arrived in Ceylon in 1600. He was a doctor to be specific, and he cured the residing governor's daughter from a mysterious illness. For this feat, he was rewarded with land, and the Ondaatje family name, originating from a Tamil ancestor Ondaatchi residing in Thanjavur. When his Dutch wife passed, he married a Sinhalese woman, had 9 children and remained here.
A Battle in a Book
Hill stations,guesthouses and resthouses are very popular in Ceylon, littered between cities, offering weary travelers delicious food that can only come from small hole-in-the-wall places. In each, a book where one was expected to write a small critique of their experience in said guesthouse/resthouse/hill station. A literary war was waged on papers of books like these throughout Ceylon between my father and a Sammy Bandaranaike. Mr Bandaranaike would sniff out every inadequacy, being sure to document every last detail in lengthy epics scrawled in these visitors books. My father would egg him on, stating exactly the opposite of what Sammy had elaborately described. Soon the war turned personal and fiery insults and gossip about each others respective families left unabashedly between pages. Eventually, these pages were torn out and the paper feud was discarded.
On the way to Colombo from Kandy we stop at Kitulgala resthouse for a meal and a sarong. I take a peek in the book with a wild hope that a forgotten page would remain. There was not.
On the way to Colombo from Kandy we stop at Kitulgala resthouse for a meal and a sarong. I take a peek in the book with a wild hope that a forgotten page would remain. There was not.
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| The view from inside Kitulgala |
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| String hoppers, coconut sambol, parathas, tea, butter and chutneys |
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| The now strictly 'critiques only' visitor's book |
En Route
The best way to explore Ceylon is by train. We chug along aboard a small steam engine, making pit stops in various small towns, districts and tourist attractions; Trincomalee, Kandy, Anuradhapura, Wilpattu National Park.
Stories of the ridiculous intoxicated shenanigans my father pulled during his days in the CLI (Ceylon Light Infantry) were relished with spicy dhal patties and coconut served through the train window along the way.
Trincomalee was explored by foot as locals with the city buzzing around us.
Street sweets were enjoyed rooftop style with a picturesque view quite ordinary in Kandy.
Tuk-tuks were taken to temples in Anuradhapura
Soap was stolen by this sneaky fellow in Wilpattu National Park
Stories of the ridiculous intoxicated shenanigans my father pulled during his days in the CLI (Ceylon Light Infantry) were relished with spicy dhal patties and coconut served through the train window along the way.
Trincomalee was explored by foot as locals with the city buzzing around us.
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| A street dog barks at an oncoming bus, informing it to go around its home in the middle of the road. |
Street sweets were enjoyed rooftop style with a picturesque view quite ordinary in Kandy.
Tuk-tuks were taken to temples in Anuradhapura
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| Buddhist temple of Jetvananamaya Stupa |
Soap was stolen by this sneaky fellow in Wilpattu National Park
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| A wild boar with a taste for Pears |
The Cobra Kingdom
Now in Kegalle, and back into the heat, we enter the heart of the city, the land upon which the late and great Phillip Ondaatje built the family house Rock Hill. After being given access to the house by the Sinhalese family who now occupied it, we go inside. I approach the property surreptitiously, wary of the large population of cobras that dominated the area.
A Small Serpent Story
The house was always surrounded by snakes, in particular Cobras. The chickens my father raised here further enhanced that problem and soon snakes would venture into the house causing much ruckus. The walls still showed the scars of bullet wounds even after being repaired, a visible tracker of the reptilian guests that appeared uninvited.
Nostalgia overload. Although much smaller now as compared to my childhood memories, the house is home to a host of small pieces of my youth. The mangosteen tree stands exactly where it did years ago, the Kitul remains its faithful companion. I half expect the polecat to come stumbling down the tree as it did when my father lived here, the two enjoying each others company in their drunken stupors. Mervyn and his polecat.
Snapshots From Kegalle
The empire the Ondaatje lawyer had fought to keep esteemed and private had now diminished into a small fading spot in the growing landscape.
A Small Serpent Story
The house was always surrounded by snakes, in particular Cobras. The chickens my father raised here further enhanced that problem and soon snakes would venture into the house causing much ruckus. The walls still showed the scars of bullet wounds even after being repaired, a visible tracker of the reptilian guests that appeared uninvited.
Nostalgia overload. Although much smaller now as compared to my childhood memories, the house is home to a host of small pieces of my youth. The mangosteen tree stands exactly where it did years ago, the Kitul remains its faithful companion. I half expect the polecat to come stumbling down the tree as it did when my father lived here, the two enjoying each others company in their drunken stupors. Mervyn and his polecat.
Snapshots From Kegalle
The empire the Ondaatje lawyer had fought to keep esteemed and private had now diminished into a small fading spot in the growing landscape.
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| Spinach planted by the new owners |
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| A favourite hiding spot for various bottles |
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| Sarongs #2-8 |
Nuwara Nights
Cool. For the first time ever in Ceylon, it was COOL. We reach Nuwara Eliya and the fresh breeze hits me like a snowball to the face. At an elevation of 6000 feet above sea level, the temperate climate, so rare in the tropics, made it the perfect vacationing spot. My grandparents visited often,packing up for up-country during the hot months for weeks of golfing, horse racing, croquet and partying. And party they did.
To Be Young in the 20's
With a plethora of activities, Nuwara Eliya was always swarmed with young tourists. Although beautiful in the day, it truly came alive when the sun set. A typical itinerary consisted of polo, golf, cricket, horse-racing and tennis during the day, followed by endless parties in one of the several English-style private homes in the night. Dancing and drinking, both to excess, was customary.
During our stay we do the customary sight seeing and exploring a proper tourist would do. It is here, where I also buy my first sarong.
Day 1: The Infamous Ceylon Tea Estates
As breathtaking as they were rumoured to be. Endless rolling hills of green. A far off puff of steam from a train gracefully snaking through.
Day 2: One of Many Botanical Gardens
In spirit of my grandmother, Lalla, I steal a flower as a keepsake . It is nice to see the Cacti and succulents are still prevalent, a lasting touch of a certain Mervyn Ondaatje.
To Be Young in the 20's
With a plethora of activities, Nuwara Eliya was always swarmed with young tourists. Although beautiful in the day, it truly came alive when the sun set. A typical itinerary consisted of polo, golf, cricket, horse-racing and tennis during the day, followed by endless parties in one of the several English-style private homes in the night. Dancing and drinking, both to excess, was customary.
During our stay we do the customary sight seeing and exploring a proper tourist would do. It is here, where I also buy my first sarong.
Day 1: The Infamous Ceylon Tea Estates
As breathtaking as they were rumoured to be. Endless rolling hills of green. A far off puff of steam from a train gracefully snaking through.
Day 2: One of Many Botanical Gardens
In spirit of my grandmother, Lalla, I steal a flower as a keepsake . It is nice to see the Cacti and succulents are still prevalent, a lasting touch of a certain Mervyn Ondaatje.
Day 3: A Round of Golf
Day 4: Rocklands Gin, Ajoutha and the Gratien Family Lineage
Stories of Lalla are shared, glasses are clinked and history is learnt.
An Epihany
Experiencing the places my family once lived their lives, took their vacations, danced, sang, drank and played brought me to the realization that without physically being here in Ceylon, with everything so tangible, only a detached and vague understanding of my roots would be obtained. The vibe of Nuwara captured the quintessential nuances of care-free life in the twenties and thirties. For the first time, I understood how one could be swept away with no regard for tomorrow, forever a child here. At such an elevation, nothing was ever too deep, not even marriage. Vibrant, ever-changing, explosive; a flaming youth they truly were.
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