Ella

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It was late when the train finally pulled into Ella. Thanks to my new SIM card, I’d been able to get in touch with someone from my homestay who would be coming to meet me at the station. With a combination of lack of sleep, long hours of travel, and trying to adjust to being a backpacker once more, I felt a little overwhelmed. As I walked towards a small group of tuk tuk drivers they all offered a lift, hostel, or both. After locating the driver from the homestay, I clambered into the back of his tuk tuk and we sped away into darkness. I kept an eye on the map on my phone and watched as it showed us passing the location of the accommodation – cue mild panic. I had  visions of being driven off into the night, to the wrong homestay. Taking everything in his stride, he stopped in front of a sign which told us the homestay was a little further along the road. It seemed Google had the wrong location, and I settled back into my seat, remembering to breathe and feeling a little guilty for my lack of trust.

My accommodation was a farm on the outskirts of town. The buildings were set back from the road, reached only via a thin footpath leading between fields of green bean crops. Relaxation finally hit as I was led along the dimly lit path, up some crooked, winding steps and to my bedroom.

In desperate need of a good meal, my host was good enough to take me to the central area as soon as I’d dropped off my bags. The centre of Ella is mostly situated along one long road, filled with a mixture of bars and restaurants. The higher up the road you ventured the quieter and cheaper it tended to get. Quickly falling in love with the local cuisine I tried a variety of foods and locations over the next couple of days, delighted in the amount of vegan choices available.

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Little Adam’s Peak

The following morning, after breakfast in town, I had plans to head to Little Adam’s Peak. The young man who’d been my driver the previous evening (possibly the oldest son of the family who lived and worked on the farm) had offered to take me there, having told me it was a good distance from town. I agreed, and on route discovered that he was (of course) not giving me a lift out of the goodness of his heart. I soon realised how close it actually was to the town, so after thanking (and paying) him for his help determined to return on foot.

Stepping out of the tuk tuk and in the direction of the Peak, I immediately realised how green, spacious and peaceful my surroundings were. To my right were tiers of tea fields, a woman worked nearby carrying a large material sack on her back.

I followed the path around the hill and up, feeling a mixture of amusement and disappointment as the peace was momentarily interrupted by loud music, the source being the basepoint for a zip line. Passing this, quiet reigned once more with only a handful of other people visible along the way. The majority of the path was a stairway which, although useful, I always feel is an odd way to ascend a mountain.

Having reached the top by mixture of tuk tuk and stairs, my reward seemed to far outway the effort I’d put in. I was unprepared for the expansive landscape which met my eyes. Distant hills faded to a hazy grey while those up close were awash with emerald green leaves, with white grey rocks scattered among the trees. 

Viewing a small group of people gathered to my right I took the path leading left, towards a beautiful moment of solitude.

I did not get far along the track before my lack of secure footwear and my fear of falling prevented me from continuing. The more sure-footed souls could make their way further along the thin footpath, across an undulating landscape and to (I presume) an incredible view. I took solace in my defeat by using it as an opportunity for future goals – to gain confidence walking among the hills, and to have better fitting footwear!

With no rush to return to town I sat at the base of a solitary tree, passed only by the more adventurous as I enjoyed my silent reverie.

Hunger finally convinced me it was time to move on and I began to make my way back down. Reaching the road, a man helpfully directed me in the opposite direction to the road the tuk tuk had driven up. A route which led through tea plantations, and which gave the appearance of being a footpath, but was apparently also a secret road for tuk tuks. An excellent through route as long as they never met one heading in the opposite direction.

Nine Arch Bridge

Day two in Ella led me to Nine Arch Bridge, though this had not been my original plan. I awoke with ideas of climbing Ella Rock, having been told of its beauty the previous day. However, it didn’t take long for me to convince myself of a new, much less taxing plan for the day. The Nine Arch Bridge is much more accessible, an hour or so walk instead of the four or more it would take to Ella Rock. 

Following breakfast, I made my way back up the road I’d descended from Little Adam’s Peak the previous day, turning off at the handily large Nine Arch Bridge sign and down onto a footpath through the forest. After a slight mishap whereby I weighed my 50-50 odds at a fork in the road and managed to choose the wrong one, I was eventually, most definitely, descending through the woods towards the famed bridge.

As I neared the train track small fires blew smoke across my path and after a momentary pause whereby my brain tried to compute whether panic was needed, it became apparent (mostly as no-one else seemed bothered by the billowing grey) that they were intentional. Continuing my descent glimpses of the brick arches became visible through the trees. Tea plantations seemed to cover every spare piece of productive land, small figures of local workers scattered across the broad valley.

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Suddenly I was rounding the final corner, and looking down on a whole host of people – school children and teachers on a school trip, tourists ready with cameras, locals selling watermelons, coffee, and goodness knows what else. It was an odd feeling to have gone from the solitude of the forest to a tourist hotspot in the blink of an eye.

The bridge itself wasn’t too crowded and I began to meander my way across, taking the time to look around, in my own little world as I took everything in. About halfway across and I saw a train rounding a distant hill, thought to myself “oh a train!” and then noticed a bunch of people running along the track in the direction I’d just come. Brain still not quite in gear, it took another few seconds for me to consider that the train was, perhaps, heading to the very track I currently stood on. Looking back, this seems like the incredibly obvious conclusion to reach, at the time however, I was standing on a track which I believed to no longer be in use. Luckily for me, Sri Lankan trains aren’t famous for their high speeds, so I reached the other edge of the bridge just in time to be camera ready as the blue carriages came around the corner and began chugging across the bridge from one side of the valley to the other.

After the sound and excitement had disappeared I took some time to wander down the lines, enjoying the novelty of hopping from one sleeper to the next. Men worked in and along the hedges lining the tracks. A small group of tourists accompanied by a guide passed by, eventually disappearing into the distance. It dawned on me once again how much life revolves around the railway lines. 

Ella Walla Falls

On my third and final day in Ella I made my way to Ella Walla Falls. One of the closest waterfalls to the town which could be reached via bus or tuk tuk. I decided to brave the bus after speaking to my waiter over breakfast and being assured it was easy to access it this way.

I’d considered a trip to the Diyaluma Falls (the second largest waterfall in Sri Lanka) but by the time I was ready for a day’s excursion it was too late to travel by bus and I didn’t want to pay for a tuk tuk.

A bus to Wellawaya pulled into the stop and I jumped on. Halfway down the long winding mountain road we came to a waterfall with which had an amazing view, but also a large number of people. The conductor initially tried to drop me here but I’d read that Ella Walla Falls are situated at the bottom of the mountain, and knew this wasn’t the place I was searching for. The road leading to Ella Walla Falls is opposite a temple making it very easy to know when you’re in the right place.

Once dropped at the right stop I began walking the long road to the falls. It wasn’t quite as picturesque as I’d envisioned after the waiter had assured me it was a beautiful walk. True, it was surrounded by fields, lined by trees, and a river came in and out of view on my left. However, in front lay a long tarmac road and, above, what was quickly becoming a hot midday sun. Making it all worthwhile was the moment I paused to watch a family of monkeys crossing the road. Small groups of adult monkeys and their infants would jump from branches and make their way swiftly across to safety on the other side. I was filled with a mixture of fascination and a little apprehension, not wanting to attract their attention and be mobbed by a monkey family.

The falls are situated in a secluded location, the water refreshingly cold. Unfortunately I found it a little hard to relax. There was a group of adolescent local guys hanging around and I’d been made aware Sri Lankan males can have an uncomfortably forward attitude towards females. Though I did choose to bathe in my swimsuit (a one-piece rather than a bikini), I wrapped up in a towel as soon as I stepped back out of the water. Though they didn’t approach me, or the few other females present, their eyes were often turned in our direction. Once again I was struck by my predicament of being alone – wanting to enjoy more secluded natural locations, but feeling as though I could be putting myself at higher risk in the process. The two or three other female tourists put me a little at ease, though I did not know how long any of them planned to stay. My paranoia getting the better of me it felt time to leave after only an hour or so of bouncing between the cool of the water and the heat of the sun as I perched upon one rock or other.