Treadlie hand made Bike show

I'm keen to ride to the exhibition buildings on Sunday the 24th to check out some bikes.  I will advise by sms a meeting location and time. Bring a lock and 10 bucks.

Eighteen bikes including road bikes, cruisers, mountain bikes, hot rods, porteurs, commuters, polo bikes, randoneurs, a cargo bike and some classy ladies uprights. Many are made from scratch, maybe from bamboo, some are lovingly restored with a creative twist, one has set World Records, others should, some have lugs, some have gorgeous paintwork and others have a thing for leather.
Made to Measure - The Treadlie Handmade Bicycle Show:
Melbourne: July 21-24th at  State of Design, Exhibition Buildings in Melbourne
Entry $10

What We did on the Holidays

My new tube bender makes short work of some 25mm tube

Due to the large amount of rain we've been having, nearly all our favorite trails are waterlogged. Either they are closed or riding them further exacerbates the trail damage. To entertain ourselves we have been busy in the shed.

We whipped this ramp up in the morning

 

Girvin with disk Brakes

Just finished putting together my new ride. It is a GT LTS with some Girvin Vector 2 forks moded to take a vanilla shock and hydrolic disks. I am pretty happy with how it has turned out. I mainly used spare parts from the shed. The Mavic crosslines came off Sam's Giant Reign, the straight handle bars came from a shogun trailbreaker, the Singulator and shimano breaks came off ebay and the serfas street tires I've had hanging around. Thanks also to Micheal for the awesome TIG weld of my custom brake mount.

More Random Sri Lankan Shots

Lionel at the tailors in Jafnna

Vic and Will at Pinnewala

Final stop. The twin Petronas Towers in Kuala Lumpur

Road riding Sri Lankan style

Nearly home!

Another grey dawn greets the fishing fleet off the beach at Negombo

14/01

Back in Damboola. More light drizzle as we begin our penultimate day in Sri Lanka. Last night I noticed two Belgian Girls checking out our bikes in the car park. This morning I got down to breakfast to find them at our breakfast table. It turns out they are motorcycle journalists writing an article on touring Sri Lanka by bike. However things are not going too well for them. They showed up a week ago, to the motorcycle hire place in Negombo, to find that there had been a double booking. This is the same place we had hired our bikes from. I suspect that Suranga will not come off looking too good when the article is published. After a few phone calls it was decided. We could save them anymore down time, if we gave them two of our bikes in return for their rental car. Well not a rent-a-car as such, actually Suranga's wife's car. (I'll bet he was in trouble when he went home).
Everyone was looking at everyone else, a little reluctant to part with the bikes. After four hard days on public and private buses, we were really looking forward to getting back on the bikes. In the end Jake and I lost our rides.
After posing for final photos and a couple of wheelies and burnouts it was time to hit the road. Jake didn't let the fact that he had lost his bike worry him too much, as we put the little Yaris through its paces. With me navigating, we launch off after the bikes, cutting through the traffic like a Sri Lankan bus driver on a mission. I will admit, there were times when I was little scared. Maybe even a lot scared. At other times it was like being the co-pilot of a rally car( minus the roll cage and racing harness).
Our fist stop for the today was the Elephant orphanage at Pinnewala. The rain continued to fall as we pressed on through small towns and road works. A police escort went past in the other direction with the Cricket World Cup aboard, followed by a truck load of armed soldiers. As the boys on the bikes became wetter and wetter it looked as if our decision to take the car was not so bad.
We hit Pinnewala about 1:30, just in time for the elephant bathing. The entry fee here is about twenty dollars each, plus the usual hassle from hawkers of bananas and parking spaces and elephant-poo paper. Lionel seems to remember that it used to only be $5.00 to enter, and I'm told by a tuk-tuk driver that the locals still only pay about $2:00. Oh well that's progress. That said, aside from the tiered hotel developments either side of the road, the view greeting us at the river was spectacular. At least fifty elephants were splashing about. Ranging from little babies to large bulls. We watched for about an hour and also bought some over-priced bananas to feed a few. These things are eating machines, even more so than Will, Jesse and Jake. They eat close to 190 kgs of food a day each, and the few bananas we bought quickly disappeared down the hatch peels and all. My poor photos in the limited light, just can't do it all justice. It was, even in the rain mesmerizing. So graceful. A couple of youngsters tussled the whole time we were there, pushing each other over and under. They would disappear under water for a time and then, just as you start to worry, up periscope!
All to soon it was time to push on to Negombo. With no sign of the weather breaking it was going to be one wet slog for the final leg home.
Another 2 hours on the bikes and finally we rolled into the Cylonica hotel, where we began our adventure all those days ago. Greg looks at me and comments that he didn't even get this wet surfing. It looks like our $7.00 rain gear has done nothing. I look at my dry pant with a slight tinge of guilt.
Over all we have clocked up about 1500 km's on the bikes and maybe 500 km's more on the buses. And a majority of this has been through rain and floods and despicable traffic conditions. All this time we have kept all the bikes operational, upright and free from any other major mishaps. An achievement in itself.

15/01
Our last day before going home. The younger guys absolutely demolished the $7:00 buffet at the three star hotel down the road, and then suited up for one last ride. This time it is to Colombo, about 45 mins south, to do some last minute shopping. Tonight I have organized one last rice and curry at a small place down the road and tomorrow we leave at 5:30 for the airport and our flight home. See you all on Monday!

Bike Hire Details

Sha Lanka: http://www.negombo-motorcycle-tours.com/
Tel: +94 777488746

Sam, check out the slack head angle!

Top of the line Sri Lankan Bike. You see guys in their Lycra Gear out for training rides on these . No Joke.

Jaffna

11/01



Here in Vavuniya the rain has eased a little. Our plan for today is to fax some paperwork between here and Colombo. Hopefully in a couple of hours we can attempt the military check point for a second time.


At nine o'clock the forms are filled in and faxed and we wait. Will wonders off to find some food, something he is prone to do regularly. We are always wondering where he has gone, but this frustration is always short lived as he usually wonders back with a bag of something or other. To fill in time Lionel , Phil and Greg go to watch a concrete pour (Holiday?) and also find a chicken farm where Lionel asks to check out their biggest birds.


Another few phone calls and we are told it will be twenty minutes. A few hours later and the morning is gone. About 1:30 the fax at the exchange rings and the forms come spilling out. 1,2,3......9 we are good to go. We head back to the bus station and jump aboard the Jaffna Bus. As we roll out, we cross our fingers that all is in order. We won't really know till we are twenty minutes up the road.


Success! We get some stamps and are through. Jaffna here we come.


The road ahead is similar to what we have seen already. Every five hundred meters or so there is a little sand bagged cubby house with a bored looking soldier manning it. Bored but heavily armed. Interspersed are shacks and ruins, little shops and army barracks, rice fields and bush land. Half the boys are standing, half have a seat. Jesse isn't too impressed by the locals throwing up in front of him. The locals have bought bags of peanuts to eat along the way, so soon the floor is littered with peanut shells.


At certain spots on the the road huge glossy billboards advertising phones or cars are juxtaposed against farmers living under tarps with UNHCR logos. Certain parts of the road are flooded and the main industry appears to be military. Flash 4WD vehicles with NGO markings are also passing by. Danish and Swiss and US De-miners, UN, World Vision, Care, Oxfam and a dozen others that I don't know seem to work the stretch of road. This bus driver doesn't seem as fast as others that periodically pass by. It is a tough trip, I am shaken till my teeth feel like they are loose. I sit for a couple of hours and then stand for a few more, It is smelly hot and crowded, Welcome to bus travel developing world style. Jesse toughs it out and stands the whole way. Even in the last half hour when a seat finally comes available he won't give in.


By 7:30 we arrive in Jaffna, Knackered!. Is is dark but still bustling. We find a trio of tuk-tuks to ferry us to the guest house we found listed in the Lonely Planet. After dinner I am laying in bed, still a little motion sick and it feels like the bed is still bumping along the road.





12/01


Jaffna! was it worth it? We get up early and head out of the hotel to look for some breakfast. Streams of kids in their white uniforms on rusty old style bikes are heading to school. The architecture here is famously colonial, though after thirty years of conflict they look a little shabby. We see churches and monasteries and little shrines on street corners. Most of the public buildings here have, at one time or another, been the scene of fighting. Many are wrecked and abandoned. Most of the buildings still in use show signs of bullet damage or lack of maintenance. We head into a Muslim hotel near the bus terminus and have nam with curry and little doughnutty things. rather than dishes they are served on banana leaves. when you are finished eating you pick up the leaf and take it to a chute in the washroom. toss the leaf and then wash your hands. Woo hoo pass the water, my mouth is burning. I ask for a spoon. The waiter grabs a dirty spoon and rinses it under the cold tap before squeegying it off with his fingers and handing it to me. The glasses arrive for our drinks. They are dripping wet and the waiter carries them with a finger in each glass. I order a tea instead and get a tea flavoured milky syrup in a stainless cup. mmmm sugar rush.
Lionel spots a tailor across the way and decides it might be good to get a new suit for Mel's wedding. While he gets measured up, we wonder off to look at the fort. Lionel is done and the suit will be available for pick up tonight. We decide to leave the city center and head out to the outer islands. I get the lonely planet and find us the correct bus. One hour later we are still bumping along and I'm regretting choosing an activity that involves buses. This is now the third day running and I'm sick of this. Thankfully a short time later we arrive at the wharf to board the ferry. we are heading to the island of Nadantivu, famous for its ruined fort and wind swept shell beaches. The ferry is wild. Kind of like those boats that the refugees arrive on.....actually exactly like that. A crank handle start, three cylinder diesel engine fills the passenger area with fumes and noise. But that noise, that bustle, that lack of personal space, it just encapsulates the Sri Lankan experience.

As we drove to the wharf we passed dozens of abandoned houses, some quite substantial, just falling to rack and ruin. Roofs collapsing, windows and front doors ajar. after so many years of fighting people have just given up and left. After a short ferry crossing we arrive at the island. I ask directions to the fort and nobody knows what I'm talking about. "You know the fort.... Dutch fort......ruins". Ahh you mean the fort on Nainativu. What the?????? we're on the wrong Island. Oh well Nainativu is famous for its Hindu Temple so we wonder along to have a look. Before you know it we are invited in for lunch. more rice and curry on Banana leaves only this time no cutlery at all. Cross legged on the floor we all eat with our fingers. Luckily we know the drill. When we are done we take our banana leaves out the back and then wash our hands. After a swim at the not so nice beach we head back to Jaffna. More bus, more crowds, more bumping arggg!
Lionel picks up his suit and we head out for tea. Our initial plan was to take a night bus to Vavuniya. But honestly, we are spent, so we organise another night in Jaffna. We will start again early tomorrow.

13/01

We have a plan to meet the ten o'clock train in Vavuniya. We plan to hire a small hiace and leave at 5am. The driver thinks that this might be cutting it a bit fine so he suggests leaving at 4 am instead. The hotel guy, wanting to be helpful, wakes us at 3:15 just to be sure. So after another syrupy tea, we roll out of Jaffna just on 4 am. I'm not feeling too good. First it's stomach cramps then we have to stop. Luckily I've a full supply of toilet paper. Some places on the road are still lined with mines so stopping opportunities are limited. At the station it's another race to the rest rooms this time with Dan and Jake. When we return we find that the ten o'clock train is not leaving till 4:00.
Its decided to pay the driver extra and get him to drop us off at Anuradhapura, Sri Lanka's version of Ankar Wat. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anuradhapura .
Anuradhapura probably needs at least two days exploration to do it justice, but we only had about two and half hours. We were on a mission. Greg was also on a mission, to locate a toilet ASAP.
After two hours we were spent. It was now about 2:30 and we still had another two and a bit hour bus ride ahead of us. This bus was an Indian version of a Toyota coaster. We piled into the packed bus with visions of standing all the way to Dambulla, only this bus had a trick. As the seats filled, the arm rests folded out into the isle, creating another row of seats down the isle. In fact there now was no isle and everyone was seated. No leg room mind you. I spent the next two hours in the fetal position. But I'm in Dambulla now an although I'm extremely tired, I'm looking forward to a good nights sleep and getting back on the bikes tomorrow. The weather has eased though it is still overcast. My apologies for not proof reading this thoroughly, but its all getting a little blurry. Roll on tomorrow!

Rain and Military checkpoints

Jake and Jesse with some of their new years eve stash.

10/01

We awoke this morning to the sound of more rain. The local news here was all floods and rescues. The east coast, not where we are, is cut off and a total disaster area. We hope that if we continue north we can find some clearer weather.
The decision was made to abandon the bikes and half our luggage, so we will continue north, traveling light and riding the public buses. With any luck we should reach Jafna tonight, 250kms away, at the grand cost of $5.00 each. The buses here plough on regardless of dogs or pedestrians or rain or flood, so rather than being terrified of them from our motorbikes, we will now use this to our favor.
The bus pulls into Dambulla. It is already standing room only and the nine of us and 10 more locals squeeze aboard. At a rough head count there is now between 70 and 80 people aboard. Remarkably the front seat is reserved for clergy so Vic snaffles a seat next to a couple of Buddhist monks. For the rest of us we are standing, though we are not likely to fall over as we are jammed in body to body.
The bus lurches away, hard on the accelerator and the horn. The first leg of the trip to Vavuniya should take about 3 hours.There we will change buses and head on to Jafna another three hours north.
As we press on, the main road quickly deteriorates to a single strip of pock marked bitumen shared by the the chaos that is Sri Lankan traffic. The rain continues to fall and bicycles and tuk-tuks are forced off the road as we barge our way through. Soon the road is completely submerged. All around us the signs of flooding increase. Sheets of water cover the fields out to the horizon. We pass a small village where the locals standing waist deep in the water and a dozen houses are flooded out. As always, it is the poorest looking shacks that are underwater, the more substantial buildings owned by the wealthier families are still high and dry. As the bus roars by, a five foot high wave of wash crashes over bystanders. The kids love it, while the adults attempt to ward of the water with an ineffectual umbrella.
There appears no rhyme or reason as to when or where the bus stops. Suddenly we pull over and people disembark, only to be replaced by new passengers almost immediately. Further on people wave the bus down and it roars past oblivious. The driver and his mate are rolling and chewing beetle nut and spitting continuously out the window. I guess the narcotic content keeps him sharp for his long day behind the wheel.
We make Vavuniya without incident. This is a real bustling little town far more sub continent than cruizey Sri Lanka.There is a noticable increase in dark skinned Tamils and a massive increase in military and UN personnel. This time last year there was probably fighting here, but now it feels perfectly safe. In the rain we find the bus to Jafna and get aboard. We snaffle some seats although soon it is standing room only again. People climb aboard with sacks of goods and cartons held together with string. The guy next to us is heading to a wedding so he is lugging food and gifts. The man opposite tells me he was in Sydney last year studying accounting.
The bus grinds out of the station and we are on our way. As I look out the window I can see Bombed out buildings and abandoned fields. Ominous signs warn of mine fields and interspersed we see guard towers with sand-bagged gun positions and army barracks .
Twenty minutes from town we stop at a the main military checkpoint. Soldiers board the bus and everyone around us pulls out their ID cards. We retrieve our passports and they are inspected. Apparently there is something wrong. Jessie is ordered off the bus. As we wait the bus gives a little lurch forward. I have visions of us pulling out and leaving him stranded behind. What am I going to tell his mum?
A few moments later Jessie is back. Apparently we all need to get off. Our advice when leaving Danboola was that the road is open, now they are telling us we can't proceed until we get military clearance from Colombo. Our bus pulls away and we are left behind. Thankfully the young soldiers are a friendly bunch so at no time does it feel too threatening. We try to start a game of cricket while we wait, but are told off. Smiles or not these guys still walk around with real big guns and their fingers on the trigger.
The soldiers pull over another bus heading back the other way and order us aboard. It looks as if we are going back to Vavuniya. It is about 5 oclock by the time we reach town. We won't be going any further today. Tomorrow we will attempt to get the correct papers faxed through from Colombo and try again. It is still raining as we dash to a local hotel. We find three rooms and as usual it is time to decide who gets to share with me. Michelle says she misses me, but surely she isn't missing my snoring!

Rain and Ruins

07/01

The day in Kandy dawned overcast yet humid. Before we hit the road again there was time to walk a circuit of the lake and visit the Budah tooth temple. Ledgend has it that a tooth was snatched from the funeral pyre of Buddah. A belief grew that whoever possessed the Sacred Tooth Relic had a divine right to rule that land. Hence the wars fought to take possession of the tooth. 800 years after the Buddha's death, in the 5th century CE, the tooth came into the possession of King Guhaseeva of Kalinga, which roughly corresponds to the present day state of Orissa in India . He fled India, with the tooth hidden in the hair of princess Hemamala and brought the tooth to Sri lanka. Whether the tooth now in the temple is the real thing doesn't seem to matter to those with faith. As a powerful symbol of legitimacy of rule the tooth has been subject to various attacks of the centuries. In the 19th century the British seized the tooth and destroyed it, however a story quickly circulated that this tooth was only a copy and the real tooth was hidden by the monks soon to reappear a short time later. In 1998 a huge car bomb was detonated by the Tamil Tigers in which the front of the temple sustained severe damage. Nowadays to enter the temple one has to pass through security check points and metal detectors. Once inside we were beset by beggars and hawkers. Just getting our picture taken with the elephant involved paying the mahout money .
Once we were done, it was time to hit the road.

Each afternoon we have been beset by inclement weather and today was no exception. By the time we reached Damboola we were soaked to the bone. Because of the humidity nothing here is able to be fully dried. Each morning we put on damp clothes. Each afternoon we are rained upon and soaked through. All my clothes stink and are beginning to get moldy. Mmmmmm we must smell great as we roll into town!

08/01
Today since we are in the region of the ancient ruins we are going to visit Sigiryia Rock an insane palace built on a rock about 400 AD. The photos don't do this place justice. This rock must be 300m high with the ruins of a palace on top, including a great swimming pool that is still intact. Its was awesome and although expensive we thought it well worth the money. The tourist hassle here is the worsts we've come across so far. 10,000 Rs to look after the bikes, 20,000 Rs for a guided tour that we don't even want. Sellers of flutes and maps and postcards and various other trinkets persue you along the path. Considering the average Sri Lankan worker earns around 70,000 rupees per month the prices charged here are exorbitant. To be honest it kind of sours the experience.
And it only got worse as we headed up to road to the ancient citadel at Polonnaruwa. Elephant hair bracelets, cards and toys, pressure, pressure, pressure. Will bought some stuff in an attempt to make them go away. Unfortunately it only seemed to encourage them further.

The weather held until the final laying Budah but when it broke it let go with an almighty dump. We had a 60 km ride back to the hotel and dusk closing in. We were further hampered by a flat to Phil's bike. A local guy repaired it on the side of the road for 100 rupees ($1.00 Aus). Ridiculously cheap compared to prices being charged a little way up the road. By now the darkness had well and truly descended. Dark and wet doesn't slow the local truck or bus drivers with their wild overtaking. The journey home was dark and dangerous, so we took it slow. Thankfully we all arrived back safely although we were absolutely soaked through.


09/01 It hasn't stopped raining since yesterday. Today we are stranded in Damboola waiting for it to clear. Maybe a 100mm has fallen in the last 12 hours. And we are talking tropical downpour and lightning. We are looking at the shops for some more extreme rain gear and tomorrow we hope to head further north, hopefully to some better weather. Here is my new wet weather riding gear. Jacket and pants for $14.50. Bring on the wheather there is no stoping us now. Just a note to the ladies at home, we have been warned repeatedly about purchasing jewels or gems here as tourists are guarenteed to get ripped off.

On the road to Ella 05/01

Double click on the photos for an enlarged view.
4/01
After the excitement of the park today dawned as possibly a quieter day. As we ate breakfast a troupe of languors( monkey's with long tails) arrived through the tree canopy. They are increadabley boisterous and swing from branch to branch using the swaying limbs as pole vaults to the next branch. They paused for a moment to strip the tree near us of its green mangos. Like little kids that don't like what they are eating they take a few bites and then drop it from the tree and then proceed to pick the next one. Will headed out from the verandah to see what type off fruit it was an aftre scooping one up he had to scurry bacdk to cover as mangos began raining down around him. Suddenly like a pack of schoolboys that have just been yelled at the troupe bolted. We also had to shoo a couple of cows out of the hybiscus bushes as they had wondered into the yard from the street. The guest house owners here have a daughter who isn't married so we got twenty questions about the age and availability of Jake and Will. Vic and I stripped down the rear brakes on my bike which were entirely dry and hadn't been working all trip and possibly a long time before that.
The bike repaired we head out for a local ride through the back blocks of Tisse. Eventually we found our way to a beach. Suprisingly it was not built out by a hotel probabley owing to the fact that it was increadibly steep and the shore break sucked out to sea and then dumped on the sand. Not a place to go swimming. Backing on to the beach was a number of houses along a maze of small alleyways. The roar of nine bikes brought many people from their houses as there is virtually no through traffic here and definitely no tourist. The kids in particular were quick to ask for money and cigerettes.
"How are you going ?" asks Jake to one of the kids.
"I am walking" he replys, no doubt wondering why anyone would ask such a stupid question.

Since landing I have been amazed at the apparent mayhem, of the traffic. If it is bad for us imagine what it is like trying to learn to drive here. If you are lucky and your dad is a tuk tuk driver (notice I am now spelling that correctly) You attach a large L plate on the back and head out into the traffic. When I say large think maybe a 2 foot by 2 foot white sign with the letter L in red. If you go to the driving school, you get to drive a white mini van with all the other students aboard each taking turns. No single passenger P plates here, imagine stalling or stuffing up with all your class in the car watching.

Back at the guest house it is another massive feed, rice and curry and curd and syrup and then bed

05/01
We woke this morning and it was wet. The mother at the guest house pressed business cards in our hands and insisted that we visit again SOON! Not a good day for riding but undeterred we unpacked our rain coats, loaded up and headed out. Our destination today is a small mountain tourist village called Ella. High in the hills it is tea country and a little sleepier than its sister tourist destination Nuwara Eliya. Ella reminds me of Sapa Vietnam Where as Nuwara Eliya reminded me of Queenstown New Zealand. That said they both have a Definite falling down Sri Lankan Feel. Stopping at a waterfall on route we are accosted by rock sellers and perveyers of other scams. We are definitely on the tourist trail.The weather remained threatening but clear until we were 5 Mins away from our destination. After unpacking at the Rock view Guest house we head down the street to find some rotti for lunch. A fine drizzle was setting in, but we attempted a walk through the tea fields to Little Adams peak anyway. We were trailed by half a dozen Dogs and it wasn't until they started brawling with each other that we were able to give them the slip.
The view from Little Adams Peak was underwhelming to say the least. Howling wind and foggy cloud. At least the tea plantaions was nice. Back to town for some food and a wash. After dinner (rice and curry again) we held a meeting to discuss the next day. The weather was bad and looked to be settling in so it was decided to leave the mountains and head north to Kandy. In the rain and drizzle, the fields famous for the tea pickers in their colorful saris, were deserted so time to move on.

06/01
We awoke to more rain. Breakfast, pack and on the road. The rain continued as we headed throught the twisty mountain roads. According to Jake this area looks alot like Belgrave and I have to agree. Due to the rain, the road was strewn with land slips and only part of the road was bitumen. Work crews and signalmen dotted the route. Power poles and road way had slipped away in dozens of areas At times the road was pothole and slippery mud and it was a lot like dirtbike riding rather than touring. Due to the low cloudcover, the higher up we went, the worse the visibility became. I was loving it, although by the time we hit Nuwara Eliya we needed to be hosed off. A tap at the Servo did the job and although we were soaked the sun was breaking through and the roads drying out. The next piece of road was just awesome. Left and right corners, one after the other and dry grippy tarmac. By the time we pulled over at the fancy-smancy Mackwoods tea estate my cheeks were aching from grinning so much.
Mackwoods is one of the largest tea estates managing 2700 hectares and the view down into the valley was stunning. We had some great tea (for free ) and then went on a tour of the factory.
From there it was a twisty run to Kandy. The earlier joy soon evaporated as the weather once again closed in and we arrived a few hours later fully drenched. After changing into some dry clothes, we took a TukTuk into town. We ate at the Muslim Hotel and after the slow service so far on this trip the speed at which the food arrived was a revelation. The meal for 9 including soft drinks came to $20.00 aus. And we ate heaps. Sick!

Day 7

31/12
After taking the night off last night, the younger guys are keen to make tonight go off with a bang. The have pooled their resources and arrive back at the hotel with a swag of fire works including a pair of fearsome looking rockets attached to sticks as large as garden stakes. Lionel has already had a little talk about the dangers of fireworks and I for one have no intention of being anywhere near them when they light it all.
Dinner has been organised at the hotel and the owner shows up with nine tunas wrapped in foil and a mountain of rice and salad. His kids lay the table, and I feel a little awkward as we tuck in while being watched by the whole family. At some stages of this trip we have demonstrated the capacity to demolish a mountain of food and tonight is no exception. As usual dinner is followed by Jesse exclaiming
"That was sick!" and then him, Jake and Will organising their next meal. Tonight the destination of choice is 'No. 1 Rotti' across the road. I think there has been a little confusion. For the last three days, the Rotti of choice has been a banana chocolate combo and it is assumed that rotti means dessert. A few days later they are crestfallen, when the rotti is delivered with the rice and it is just plain bread.
As midnight approaches the sounds of fireworks increases and all down the beach DIY displays launch into the night sky. Ours are launched before midnight and then we find a vantage point to watch the show. The verdict, Not bad. Surprisingly half an hour after midnight we are in bed. Down the road at Mambos the dance floor ( a rickety structure on the beach) is heaving but we are thinking about rolling out early tommorow morning and hitting the road.

01/01/11
Welcome to the new year. We check out, load our bikes and head out the hotel gate. Our destination is Marriss, a small town on the South Coast. Eight of Nine bike roll on to the road. No Jake! We turn around and find that his bike has stripped a cog and is going nowhere. We take off our riding gear and settle in as Vic and Jake head off with Jageh, our local took took guy, to find a new sprocket. They return with serviceable secondhand one and we are ready to roll. As we hit the open road it is evident that it has been a big night in Hikkaduwa. the traffic is only half the usual mayhem, and it looks like an easy day for riding.
Less than three Km's down the road Dan's bike gives up the ghost and we pull over to investigate. The bike is dismantled roadside and the offending piece is taken down the road back to Hikkaduwa. Lionel and Vic return and the news is not good. The part is unavailable. There is a chance that if the bike is towed back a different part may be able to be retrofitted. By now it is after lunch and we are 5 hours behind schedule. It is decided that we shall split the group. Lionel Dan and Vic will head back to repair the bike and the rest of us will carry on to Marrissa and look for accommodation. We head of down the road and after sheltering from a brief downpour arrive in Marrissa by 5:00. For some reason, maybe no daylight savings? it gets dark here just after six. Unfortunately the news is no good. We have arrived so late, that there is no room at any inn. And here I thought Christmas had already been. After 45 mins of fruitless enquiries and with darkness fast approaching we decide to head back to Welegamo, the last main town we had passed through, in the hope we might have more luck.
A sign saying Green Peace Guest host points down a sandy track to a unusually three story building overlooking the bay. It kind of looks like a tree house, but with room for nine guests we quick snap it up and settle in. Within minutes the remaining three riders come roaring in. Apparently the police were waving to Vic as he went flying past, so he gave them a wave back . His bike is triple the size of theirs so they returned dispondantly back to their radar gun .

02/01
The Green Peace is the brain child of Lucky Somethingorother. I think he said it began as a restaurant but then he decided to add another story for guest. Another half finished wing is also under construction. He recounted to us how in 2002, sensing something was wrong, he grabbed up his wife and kids and fled inland. Moments later a wall water slammed into his guest house and washed away all his possessions. The building however remained largely intact and he was able to borrow some money and start again. He should have his loan paid off by march 2012 and considers himself fortunate. Dan, Greg and I hit the surf while the rest of the crew go snorkeling. Later Greg takes the opportunity to get a shave with a cut-throat razor, No blood but he looks a little pink as he emerges from the barber shop. It was all he could do not to tense up and run out screaming as the bare blade is produced.
Dan returns from our ride and fuel is spilling out of his bike. Jake and Dan have to strip the bike down and clean out the carburetter, while we relax.
All our meals at the green Peace have been to quote Jesse "awesome". Lots of tea and toast and rice, noodles and curry.
The fruit has also been pretty spectacular; bananas, paw-paw, mango and pineapple.
I organise a deal with another local guest house to sell my board and carrier rack. Tomorrow after a ride along the coast we head north toward the mountains and there will be no more surfing.

03/01
After a fond farewell to Lucky (and Kevin his only other guest) we roll out. Our destination today is 'Tissa' (it's real name has another 5 syllables) famous for being the gateway of Yala, Sri Lanka's premium game park. Surprise surprise, apart from a wrong turn we cover the distance with out a single mechanical breakdown. The only incident of note was Phil hitting a dog at speed. Phil's okay! and believe me when I tell you that there is no shortage of dogs here, though there is now possibly one less. We are not sure as it took off into the bush yelping.
We arrived in Tissa Just in time to get roped in to the last Safari of the day. On offer is the opportunity to see; dear and elk, elephants and mongooses, a thousand varieties of birds and if we are really lucky one of 38 remaining Sri Lankan leopards.
Two jeeps set up Daktari style arrive at the guest house and we pile aboard. It is apparent from the motor bikes that Sri Lankan traffic works on a very simple principle. Small gives way to big. Buses and trucks at the top of the chain and bicycles and pedestrians at the bottom. Took tooks and motor bikes are only a little way off the bottom. Armed with two sizable four wheel drive our drivers attack the traffic with zest. As we enter the park things change little. Dozens of four wheel drives jostle for position in a scene reminiscent of Colombo. As the drives cross paths information is exchanged about the location of sighted animals.
A leopard has been spotted! I hang on for dear life as the jeep leaps into life. A side track appears we veer of down a short cut. Moments later we skid to a halt as we encounter another scene reminiscent of Colombo. Ahead a plethora of safari mobiles jostle for the best vantage spot. Our driver swings to the other side of the dirt track to make a new lane past, only to be blocked by half a dozen other drivers with the same idea. Another three or four jeeps come around us making the traffic three cars wide. Our three lanes of traffic is met head on with the three lanes of traffic coming the other way, instant Gridlock!
As the western tourists with the monster tele-photo lens are leaning out the jeep taking snaps, the next driver behind is pushing the jeep, bumper to bumper out of the way. Finally we get a glimpse of the sleeping leopard, two massive paws dangling from a tree branch. The coat is stunning, but the cat is a fair way away.
Jesse never one to hold back exclaims " Is that all? thats stupid, it looks dead. You can come around to my house and watch my cat sleeping!" I'm trying not to laugh too hard as our driver extricates himself from the traffic mess and we roar of in search of elephants. Success.
By six o'clock it is dark and a convoy of vehicles race each other back to town. I am a little scared, and am reminded of a previous taxi ride in Cambodia.
Safely back at the Guest house we are greeted by another fantastic spread. Rice and curry and rotti!
"This is sick !" says Jesse
(photos to follow soon)