I never knew crocodiles were squishy?

I love travelling, but I hate to travel. I reckon at the moment I am spending a good 20 hours a week travelling in public busses (or if I am lucky, I do manage to hitchhike with wealthier INGOs). And it might be a little island, especially if you are comparing to Australia, but there are more potholes in this place than curry houses. If Walt Disney was still around, I am sure there would be a ride in Disneyland where you jump in a tuk-tuk with zero suspension, drive down the streets of Sri Lanka and ride the bumps like you’re on your daddy’s knees. With the multitude of cows on the road, national highways with three quarters of a lane, suicide bus drivers, ill-maintained “vehicles”, and the notion of actually giving way to cyclists (I will never understand why a roaring bus will screech to a sudden halt behind a cyclist waiting for the oncoming traffic to cease before overtaking, yet is happy to force a truck off the road and seven passengers to have heart-attacks to overtake another bus?); you’re lucky to average 30km/h. But all of that, one can get used to. It’s the five and a half hour bus ride from Ampara to Kandy with a guy sitting next to me in the featel position throwing up for the ENTIRE trip while his friends laugh at him and poke him for more; it’s the eight hour bus ride from Matara to Ampara stopping seventy four times in each village (and even farms) while being shunted into the wall (“death by a thousand shunts”, the next day I was black and blue on my elbow and shoulder); or the booking of a seat for the seven hour bus ride form Hambantota to Ampara only to find that you need to stand most of the way because a) they don’t understand “Who the F* stole my seat!?”, b) there is no such thing as a ‘reservation’, and c) “you’re white, can’t you afford a car?”

And while I’m at it, don’t think that Tuk-Tuk’s are any better. They can be as bad as taxis in Melbourne, except there are no windows so instead of the stench arising from the underarm, it comes from the putrid spewing of pollution from other traffic. And Sri Lankan tuk-tuk drivers have learnt that if you say, “No sir, I don’t know where you want to go”, then people walk off. So, instead they look at you and go “Yes yes, get in”, drive around for half an hour and then stop to ask the man at the rotti-store where it is. Of course, he doesn’t know either, so he will point you in some random direction. By the end of the whole affair, you do get somewhere.. and even though in Batticaloa it took me literally one hour,
six bridge crossings and several kilometres to get to my hostel, which I later found out was 500 meters down the same road as my office. And yes, I paid for all of those bridge crossings, “But I am a poor man, I did not know you wanted to come here, I thought you wanted a tour of the city…”. Although there is nothing I can do about the travel, at least you can laugh at my misery.

It’s good to know that so many of my loyal readers, mum, dad, are environmentalists. I have had raving reviews (“yeah it was alrigh’.. I s’pose”) about the two dogs caught in a bind, so I thought I would continue my love affair with animals; and what better way to tie this in with travelling, than to have a look at local road kill. I thought it would be much worse the road kill here, but being Buddhists and all, they sort of dodge the cats and dogs, opting to hit weirder less common animals. Let’s start with pure photographic pleasure – a monitor lizard. Here’s one when it is alive.

And here’s one after a seven ton truck with no brakes comes screeching down the road.

Niiiiice.. straight to the pool room.

This ones a little bit more obscure.. a river crocodile. Now I know you would like to think it could still be alive.. but take a closer look, and you will see the blood spattered around it’s face as it lies in the ditch. I assure you, it’s not going anywhere.

As always, been a pleasure. Today, not only did we give shit to poor people who don’t know away around their own towns, but we also managed to make fun of dead animals that could kick your ass if they weren’t hit by a rolling heap of metal. Excellent.

Peace, Love, and Squishy Things,

Byron.

"I have to learn to stop hating people with guns, just because they have guns"

(c) Emma Waller 2006.