A wave of warm, humid air greets us as we exit the airport for the third time on our journey. A mass of people, packed tightly together in three rows, crowds the sidewalk in front of the terminal entrance. Bandaranaike International Airport, Colombo, Sri Lanka. And it’s only 5 a.m. Flights from Europe will likely be arriving throughout the day, but we’re coming to Sri Lanka from Oman.
We knew it was going to be tough: boarding at 10:15 p.m., takeoff at 10:30 p.m., an hour and a half time difference, which means arrival at 4 a.m. Sri Lankan time. That’s 2:30 a.m. Oman time. And we’re doing this with two children. We hoped for a half-full plane and maybe a few hours of sleep.
Calculation error. The plane is packed to the brim—every seat taken. Excited Sri Lankans returning home, fried rice with chicken at midnight, and Bollywood movies playing on screens everywhere. We don’t get a wink of sleep and are exhausted by the time we land. Arthur falls asleep 15 minutes before landing, which is 2 a.m. for him. And at 2:30 a.m., we have to wake him up again. We disembark, go through customs, collect our luggage, and buy a SIM card. He leans against me, falling asleep twice while we wait for our bags. Fortunately, someone is there to pick us up at the airport and drive us to our hotel.
We are now in Sigiriya, a small town located four hours northeast of Colombo. After a few days of acclimatization in the coastal city of Negombo on Sri Lanka’s west coast, we arrived here yesterday. The landscape is rural, with rice fields interspersed with lakes filled with white lotuses, dense jungle, wild elephants, and rocks adorned with ruins that rise like giants above the scenery. The most famous is the Lion Rock.
It’s hot—stifling, oppressive heat. We need to get used to it! We left a wintry Rotterdam a month and a half ago. In the Middle East, it was winter, and while the temperatures were much higher than in Europe, they were still very pleasant. Moreover, the Middle East has a dry climate, where temperatures can be high, but the air remains dry.
Here in Sri Lanka, the moment we exert ourselves, our clothes stick to our skin. We need three or four days to adjust. The kids do too. Tired and sluggish, as they say in the south of France. Yesterday, Anna suffered from a classic heat stroke. Too much exertion, too little water, and too much sun. After getting ice-cold water poured over her head to cool down and having a can of Coca-Cola, she felt better, but she hasn’t fully recovered yet.
Tonight at the restaurant, we order a nice cold beer and a good bottle of wine. What a pleasure after six weeks of “dryness” in the Middle East. Just a week ago, we were still in the desert in Oman. With the kids, we look back once more.
After visiting the Raz-al-Jinz turtle reserve, we had more beautiful moments, including a stay in the desert: the Wahiba Sands. A true desert in southeastern Oman where we spent three days in a campsite aptly named Thousand Nights Camp. The campsite is about an hour and a half drive into the desert. When we arrive, we are overwhelmed by the beauty of the place. An ocean of dunes lined up in rows that seem to stretch endlessly. In Jordan, we were also in the desert at Wadi Rum, but this is different. Here, there is only fine sand that caresses our feet.
During the day, the bright sunlight washes out the colors, and the sand that looks white is too hot to walk on. But in the morning or late afternoon, when the sand dunes turn yellow, pink, and orange, we climb them barefoot. Miles and miles of the finest sand imaginable. Anna and Arthur run, jump, and roll in the dunes. They slide down one of the steepest dune slopes on a plastic sled, having the time of their lives. Sand is everywhere.
The other guests at the camp have different pastimes. This activity is called dune bashing—trying to drive a four-wheel vehicle or quad against a dune. In the late afternoon, the silence of the camp is drowned out by the roar of engines. Not really our thing.
When the silence returns, Anna and Arthur meet the camp’s camels. They are allowed to roam freely during the day but have ropes around their front legs to prevent them from escaping. Anna cautiously approaches one of the camels and speaks softly to it. The camels are domesticated and well-trained. Speaking very gently, Anna stands in front of Coco, the little name she has invented for her favorite camel. It’s impossible not to be charmed by Coco’s sweet eyes. We had already promised this in Jordan, so the next day, we decide to take a camel ride in the desert at dawn. The camel is also known as the “ship of the desert,” and we understand why. These animals are incredibly well adapted to their environment. It takes a little time to find a comfortable position, and you have to hold on tightly when getting on and off, but what a wonderful experience! Two hours of silence and gentle swaying in the desert. Because a camel ride is also an opportunity for fun, Anna and Arthur come up with a silly competition: which of the four camels will poop the most during the ride? It’s thrilling. In the end, Arthur wins: 8-7-7-2.
After the desert, we head back north to visit the historic city of Nizwa and spend three days in the mountains. Our cottage, situated at an altitude of 1,700 meters, overlooks the canyon of Jebel Shams, the highest mountain in Oman, famous for its beautiful hiking trails, including the Balcony Walk. A five-hour hike along a ridge, with a sheer drop of 1,000 meters below. Just take a deep breath and go, being careful where we place our feet and not looking down too often.
Finally, after traveling for about fifteen days in Oman, we’ve returned to Muscat. In Jordan, people had already told us, “After Jordan, Oman is the most beautiful and hospitable country in the Middle East.” It’s true.
At the restaurant, the kids invented a game called “Tootoot!” When they press on our noses, we’re “turned off,” and they can do whatever they want with us, putting us in ridiculous positions. They press again, and we’re back on. It’s pretty absurd but incredibly funny. The alcohol, which Marie-Laure and I are clearly not used to anymore, adds to the hilarity, and we all burst into laughter.
In the coming weeks, we will explore this fantastic island called Sri Lanka.
Three weeks of traveling around this blessed island.
Globetrotterdammers 