Woody in Sri Lanka
Arriving in Colombo after a 15 hour flight via Moscow I got out of the plane to find a tropical storm taking place with the rain belting down. Fortunately, a Sri Lankan passenger who had got to know me offered me a lift to Kandy where he was heading. As my priority was to visit the hill country I accepted without hesitation. Very soon the van in which I was being carried hurtled along the uneven mountain roads as the rain continued to lash down in sheets and I bounced up and down in the back. Eventually we reached Kandy and my helpful host found me a small hotel immediately.
The centre of Kandy was peaceful and tranquil with a huge lake. At one end stood the Queens Hotel and a large Buddhist temple while at the other end stood picturesque hills with buildings evenly distributed amongst them. Mist and low lying cloud drifted over the hills.
I had a very brief stay in Kandy as I caught a bus to Nurelia to explore the tea plantations and relax in the hills of central Sri Lanka. Nurelia was a fairly small town with a burnt out liquor store at one end which had been set on fire by a group of Tamil Tigers. The people were friendly and you didn’t have to look far for someone who spoke English. I received an invitation for tea from a Tamil Indian family and listened to their story about how they had to flee from their house when Singhalese militants threatened them. After the militants had ransacked their house the family returned after several weeks to resume their normal lives. I personally didn’t experience the political conflicts of Sri Lanka but there were signs of it in the form of damaged buildings and various people had their own stories to tell.
I spent most of my time wandering around the emerald green hills and tea plantations of central Sri Lanka which took me to several interesting locations. These included the Argyle and Brunswick tea plantations not far from Nurelia. Huge white factory like buildings dominated these areas where the tea was processed. I was shown around and given a demonstration about how tea is processed. I visited tin shacks belonging to the Tamil Indian tea pickers which they called home. These were little more than hovels with a communal tap outside for general use and for drinking. I also watched and photographed the tea pickers in action. On one occasion while standing on a rock in the middle of a mountain stream I slipped and got carried downhill in the water. Fortunately a group of female Indian tea pickers came running to my aid and pulled me out before my cameras and equipment got drenched. They all laughed with amusement as I stood beside them with my lower half soaked.
While exploring one particular Tamil village I noticed some boys playing cricket on a small piece of rough ground. I joined them and batted for a while. Finding out that I was British they ran off to bring their friends and an English speaking man. I was told that a match was being prepared and that I was invited to play. While I waited in conversation villagers consisting of men, women and children began to congregate around me. Tamil women dressed in colourful saris with rings in their noses combed their hair furiously, children stared at me with open mouths and I became the centre of attention. After twenty minutes it seemed like the whole village population was present. The boys who had previously run off arrived with stumps, bats, ball and other equipment and within minutes a full scale match was in progress.
The team for whom I was chosen batted first and I was asked to open. Wearing a pad on my left leg with no other protection, I prepared to face a medium pace bowler on a wicket that resembled corrugated concrete. The first ball reared off a length and passed over my shoulder, the second wrapped me painfully on the fingers, the third I placed through the covers for four, the next two I defended and the final delivery which arrived short and wide I cut past square leg for four. A torrid start but I had survived. I went on to make around 20 runs before a ball flew sharply off a length, nicked the shoulder of my bat and looped for an easy catch to second slip. The players and crowd were ecstatic as I turned in the direction of the boundary edge. The bowler was hugged by his team mates and second slip became the toast of the village. I didn’t understand all the fuss. Why such celebrations for the dismissal of a visiting Englishman? When questioning the English speaking Sri Lankan man he explained that the villagers had misinterpreted the information about me and had believed that instead of being a cricketer from England I was a cricketer from the English national team. Because of my moustache and other similarities some even thought I was England batsman Graham Gooch. Some of the children handed me paper and pen for my autograph which I duly signed with a little hesitation but I saw the funny side of the situation.
While wandering around the Argyle tea plantation the Deputy Manager who had shown me around invited me to stay in his former British colonial bungalow situated high in the plantation with magnificent views of the surrounding countryside while he and his family went to Colombo for Christmas. He left a cook and servant to look after me and allowed me complete freedom to use all the available facilities which I appreciated. I spent that Christmas alone but I experienced some magnificent walks in the hills and it was healthy with cool temperatures, morning mist and occasional rain which caused the vegetation to give off a pungent smell.
Travelling back to Colombo after five days in the Hill Country, I had an appointment with Mr. Heyn the President of the Sri Lankan Cricket Board of Control in his office at the Colombo Oval. His son David Heyn, formerly captain of the national team was also captain of my club Richmond. My job was to speak with his father to negotiate the acquisition of two under 19 players to play for Richmond the following summer. I completed this successfully.
Although the ground was set in a poor suburb of the Sri Lankan capital, it resembled something straight out of Victorian England. With old fashioned stands surrounding the pitch an old white, wooden pavilion covered in ivy stood on one side. The pitch itself was completely flat and emerald green in colour with a wicket that was as hard as a concrete slab. The wicket appeared to be a batsman’s paradise.
I spent several more days travelling to towns like Anuradapura and Ratnapura to view and photograph Buddhist temples before returning to Colombo for my return flight to London via Moscow for a four day stopover. I had a visa and special hotel vouchers for this and I was looking forward to my return to the Russian capital after an absence of several years.
Leaving the Beach Garden Hotel just outside Colombo I made my way to the airport two hours before the flight was due to leave. When I gave my documents to the check in clerk she looked at my details on the computer then told me to go to the back of the queue because I hadn’t reconfirmed my flight. With a nervous feeling I did as I was told and waited for those in front to check in their baggage. Just as I was about to be seen a male airport official announced that all seats were taken and that I would have to take a later flight. When I made enquiries about the next flight to Moscow I was told there was nothing for four days. A feeling of crisis came over me as I thought of my visa and vouchers which were only valid for the dates given and the fact that I was due back at work in England the following Monday and today was Wednesday.
Like all crises there is usually a solution so after fixing my next flight and checking back into the Beach Hotel near Colombo I planned my next move. Firstly, I visited the Russian embassy where the officials were very helpful and re-stamped my visa. I then returned to my hotel where I spent the following three days relaxing on the beach and having a good time in the evenings. I eventually managed to send a telegram message to my workplace in Wembley and very soon I found myself boarding a Moscow bound plane for another interesting experience, refreshed after my time in Sri Lanka.
