International Jetsetters Extraordinaire: D7

Day 7: Quick. Hurry. Rush. We need to get back to Colombo to watch Pakistan thrash Sri Lanka in the cricket one day’er. Have we got our hats? Check. Quick, get those two tuk-tuks, we need to get to the train station. Hustle. HUSTLE. Scuttle along, you scallywags. Phew, we’re on the train, and it’s an express (though we had to wait an extra half hour for the express, kind of defeating the purpose). We’re moving. We’re charging to Colombo. Welawatta station – if we get off here we can save time. Quick, throw your bags out the door, the trains not stopping. Emma jumps. Chris follows. Oh no, he’s fallen. Jump Byron. Jump Caz. Oh my god, there’s two down! Everyone’s watching, “What are these stupid foreigners doing jumping off a train?”. Medic, we need a medic! Everyone alive? Check. Any broken bones? No, we’re lucky! Battle scars? Chris and Caz, identical: two mashed big toes on left foot, serious mulching of skin on right hand, and some leg scrapes. Hospital? Nah. Let’s go back to hotel, Dr. Byron will fix it up then we can head off to cricket club to watch what we should be at. The only long term scars: pride. As we kick back for drinks at the Galle Face Hotel later that evening, a fellow train passenger walks past and in his poonce pommy voice says something to the effect, “Nice disembarking of train”. We’ve been spotted, and remembered, in a city of millions. How Embarrassment. Never fear, a flight back to Australia and some real doctors can fix everythin

And like that, they’re gone. What a ride… what a ride.