Entry to many of the ‘cultural triangle’ sites are subject to entrance fees. At one time it was possible to buy a $50 pass which allowed entry across most of the sites albeit single day per site. That was discontinued. Effectively entry fees for overseas visitors are around $30 per site per day. This compares to nominal fees for Sri Lankans. The fees are expensive, probably too expensive, and could add a hefty amount to a travellers budget if they want to visit many sites.
I will not pay that much and will happily forgo the full experience in order to put my pennies to better use. At Polonnaruwa there are many examples of ancient ruins outside of the ticket area. With my bike fully laden I went as far as the site exit to catch a view beyond the gate and take photos. I had an interesting chat with the uniformed officials and protested at the prohibitive entry fees.
I left and cycled further along the road by the site of the old palace. More ruins. I took a few pictures. Checking with google maps I tried to circle the ancient ruins. The road became a wide path and I kept on. More ruins! Big stuff. Interesting stuff. Then tourists milling around. I took lots more photos.
I moved on and turned a corner and then found myself on the other side of the gate I had been earlier. A man rushed over. ‘Ticket?’ ‘I do not have a ticket’ I replied. He then pressed me for ‘$30. I did not have that cash. I offered him what I had and told him my entry was unintentional. In fact I had passed a fraction of the whole site which stretched much further in the opposite direction and would take at least a day to view. ‘Problem problem!’ He cried and ran in and out of the gatehouse. ‘Police station!!’ Not a problem I said given the time to make a cash point I would pay for my mistake. Actually there was a policeman at the gate during the whole affair. He came over and told me I could go. The other official said to me ‘you leave Pollonnaruwa!’ Yes I agreed I was on my way out of town.

The road West towards the ancient capital of Polonnaruwa was the first major slog on the bike. It was a fantastic straight road that undulated far into the distance. But my legs are now up to it and arrived late afternoon.

I stopped briefly to watch a local cricket match and saw the winning shot. The batsman (pictured second from left) hit a six high up into the stand of spectators. I joined the jubilant team and congratulated them on their victory.

I stopped at a village fishmongers that was selling the largest king prawns I had ever seen. They were about 6 inches long from eyes to tail and about an inch fat. My mum would love these! I bought half a dozen to cook for my dinner.
My approach to the city took me alongside a huge reservoir or ‘tank’ where I met a young French traveller and asked him about his accommodation.

The Samudra hotel was easy to find in New Town and room prices were very reasonable having negotiated a good price.

Sadly the hotel is situated next to a government rest hotel and bakery. I was awoken by machinery and enthusiastic shouting during the night and  which then kept me awake. The next morning I reloaded my bike to check out of the hotel and ride around the ruins of the ancient city.

Added new post as WordPress is a bit buggy and giving me a headache on my phone…

In the afternoon I made my way to the Kalkudah beach favoured by the locals. It stretched as far as the eye could see and was deserted. Several hotels were under construction although the area was quiet. One hotel  was being built by the army for government use.
Close to the beach and next to the concrete shell of a hotel under construction was a little round shelter that I would expect to find at a beach bar. It had brightly coloured fairy lights on its thatched roof. This was quite surreal and like finding a park bench on the moon. I had a swim and used this shelter for my stuff. Later a workman appeared from the concrete shell and happily took me on a little tour of the building including a view from the second floor. There was to be three more floors on top. He made me some tea. I felt like the first guest at the hotel.
The beach was great and good to have a little time out but the experience is tempered by the great tragedy of 2004. Ashoka at the guest house had lost his sister to the tsunami. The chap working on the new cabana next to mine had lost his mother and son. This was a place of great sadness.

A restful nights sleep and then back on the bike. It had rained and the road from Passikudah was littered with giant tree snails. As I headed inland on the A11 I was presented with a seemingly infinite ribbon of tarmac stretching into the distance.

Pushing on up the East coast I viewed abandoned buildings partially destroyed by the tsunami. Conversely there were many signs of renewal some of which has been undertaken using overseas aid. I stopped to look at some curious looking ‘hobbit’ homes and was told by a local farmer that they had been built by a Dutch relief agency.

The road was good but I became quite baked by the sun. Once past Komari I finally, and quite exhausted, made camp on the opposite bank of a river next to the Eastern university campus at Oluvil.

The next day brought more sun drenched beaches and coconuts on slivers of land between sea and lakes. The road took me over bridge after bridge. I passed through the bustling city of Batticaloa, again with a noticeably large Moslem population, and headed to the well reviewed beaches of Passekudah Bay.

Passikudah bay and its neighbour Kalkudah bay have beautiful beaches. However the surrounding area is little more than a major construction site. There are established high end holiday resorts pandering to the well heeled but the rest is a bit of a mess. No doubt the place will look like the French riviera in a few years time but meanwhile it simply provides buckets of work for labourers from the surrounding region.
I am now addicted to Sri Lankan ‘plain’ tea so I made for a small place serving tea on Passikudah beach. Lonely Planet reveals a local guest house ‘nearby’ (Anna’s) but was advised to go to a place a short walk away called ‘Kogulas’ (renamed as Inn On the Bay’) Good advice. I was welcomed by a young chap called Ashoka and shown a newly built cabana in the garden. It was one of three with another under construction. The other cabanas were occupied by local traders. Ashoka was not the owner and intimated that the owner had another hotel in Battilacoa and really not too interested in this one. The main building itself was somewhat dilapidated. Kogulas was the first guest house in the area long before the idyllic beaches started garnering interest from further afield.
A good nights sleep and I headed off the next morning to check out the local town of Valaichchenai. It is some distance away but on the way was delighted to see an orange painted library with a wonderful statue of a candy coloured four armed god by the entrance.

The town itself was buzzing with activity and a fish and vegetable market in full swing.

Having survived the night of the banana fire ants I continued to wind my bike along the A4 east of Monaragala. Once again I enjoyed the lush tropical surroundings flanked by some towering rocky outcrops. One of these looked like an Easter Island statue with a large nose. Stopping to look carefully I gestured to a man close by about the nose and he nodded and smiled. Quite a conk on that rock! The road snaked down and down and down. What a great ride! I stopped as the road bottomed out a little to buy a Sri Lankan flag in lieu of Independence day and to send home.
The surrounding vegetation thinned and took on a drier appearance. I noted neat new housing created for displaced people following the 2004 tsunami. The road came to a junction in Potuville. I turned South and was somewhat surprised that it was a predominately Moslem town having so far been immersed in Buddhist or Hindu culture.
Once through the town I crossed the bridge over the lagoon separating Potuville from Arugambe or Arugam Bay. The strip that runs parallel to the sea is busy with guest accommodation and restaurants. A cursory look in the Lonely Planet revealed a few favourites and chose the Galaxy rest house. Prices are good with a double cabana for around £8 a night and cheaper if staying longer.

I took the opportunity with my unladen bike to visit Potuville and view its many bicycle shops. This was the first time in Sri Lanka that I had seen so many bicycles in use as the main form of transport.

My other discovery is Sri Lankan bread loaves which I obtained from a local baker in Potuville pictured below. They have the consistency of croissant and usually quite delicious. The Galaxy hotel provided excellent freshly ground coffee in cafetieres. Decent fresh coffee is something I miss a lot travelling in Sri Lanka. British colonialists had first tried to cultivate coffee in Sri Lanka. The crops failed miserably and they introduced tea instead with a great deal of success.

That evening I found a local restaurant; the Beach Hotel and enjoyed an amazing special fried vegetable and chicken rice dish. It was my first sit down meal in Sri Lanka that I had not cooked myself. The chef came out to discuss how I would like my meal and later we had a good chat about Arugam Bay and the effects of the tsunami whilst one if his sons took my bike for a quick spin.
The next day I washed and hung out some clothes. I did a little food shopping, had tea with two Sri Lankan motorcycle policeman, swam a little and returned once again to the Beach hotel in the evening for ‘plain tea’.

I could quite happily have spent several weeks relaxing at Arugam Bay but once rested I took to the road again to follow the coast road North.

A small selection from the early part of my journey already detailed. I promise to catch up the last week or so as soon as I can.. power and connections permitting. Currently heading North having made my way up the East coast and then inland to the central hilly bit or cultural triangle.

Searching for a good place to camp I cycled over a bridge and saw an open thatched roof hut and fire inside. I stopped to speak to a guy standing nearby. It was his ‘gaff’. I said he had a good spot and that I was looking for one too. He invited me to take shelter there. There were two slatted beds built into the sides of the hut. I declined the offer of taking one and demonstrated that I had the kit (bivouac and thermarest) to be very comfortable on the ground. Another guy turned up also in a boiler suit. They both had ‘sugar cane refinery’ emblazoned on their backs. They were employed as quality control workers in a local sugar factory. I insisted on cooking my  own noodles despite being offered some of their own curry and rice. I certainly did not want to deprive them of any of their dinner.  More men turned up. Several on a tractor and finally another on a motorbike who apparently owned the tractor. With a good fire, Indian pop videos and a bit of Bob Marley it turned into a great evening although my lack of Sinhali was a bit of a barrier.
Very early in the morning both sugar workers went off to work. As I was getting myself organised I watched as various people sneaked under the electric wire behind into Yala Park to plunder its resources.

I set off once again with my sights set on the East Coast and Arugam Bay.
I joined the A4 at Buttala and the road snaked towards Monaragala. I cycled past an officers training centre with a tank proudly displayed close to the entrance.

Quite a bit of hill work up to Monaragala but was rewarded by an amazing ride down as I finally found the road heading East. Once again I was surrounded by dense tropical vegetation and with the light fading I dropped off the road to pitch my tent amongst the bananas.
It was a quiet spot close to a river but within a few metres of the road. The night before I had been badly bitten by flies but now I discovered the terror of Sri Lanka’s large red ants. They sting like hell. I was keen to get in my tent and zip up!

I reached the checkpoint or entrance to Yala national park a bit late in the day. There were a number of worrying factors. Finding somewhere to camp and sleep was a pressing matter.  I did not know if I would be allowed to cycle through the nature reserve known for its leopards and elephants. Lastly I had read of overseas visitors being fleeced by extortionate entrance fees.
As I cycled up I was waved to one side by park rangers. I was told that I could not go in: ‘Too dangerous! Elephant!!’
I politely asked them if I could be allowed through… and that really I would be fine. ‘No, no. Elephant!’ was the reply. They suggested I stay the night in Kataragama. But again I insisted that I wished to get to Buttala to the North of the reserve and that it was a cool time of day for cycling. I looked at my map at an alternative way around the Park and asked them the best route. At this point a ranger asked me if I had lights for my bike. I put my two cateye front lights on and the rangers checked them. I was then told I could go through but that I had to hurry and was allowed an hour and a half to cycle through. I thanked them and said I would be quick.
The light faded fast although the full moon provided a good light to view the surrounding parkland. I did go quickly although there were a few hills. A pickup truck came alongside and man shouted; ‘Dangerous! Elephant!’
A little further there was an elephant cow on the road and we both passed her and the truck drove between me and the elephant. I thanked the driver. A little later a chap on a motorcycle said the same thing and suggested I go back. But I refused and told him that I quite like elephants…
Next thing.. I passed a bull elephant on the opposite verge of the road. It was close and very BIG with huge long tusks. We looked directly at each other and the bull moved towards me and stamped one his front legs. Ok I thought; it is your park. And I cycled as quickly as my legs could take me. It was a tense moment!
Another cow elephant moving across the road and then I came across a roadside shop. Now on the Northern fringe of the Park I had the problem of finding a place or spot to sleep. But what a great ride in the moonlight!