The second day at Giritale, we went to a later era ruins of Polannaruwa, from 11th/12th Century AD, a thousand years after Anuradhapura. The invaders from India, the Cholla kings conquered Anuradhapura and moved their center to Polannaruwa to the South, better to defend against invaders. Ultimately they lost to the Singalese Kings and a new era flowered. Hindu temples and Hindu Gods and Goddesses were introduced to the culture however and the purity of design become diluted by foreign themes. The Hindu temples looked like stone piles compared to the Buddhist temples.
We began by visiting the museum at Polannaruwa which held some of the finest bronzes, stone sculptures and glass objects from the period; a full mock-up of the complex provided a concept of the architecture. I am reminded of Chinese style hinted in the concept. The event of the day was a visit to the site of four Buddhas carved from a granite ridge; the most impressive being the sleeping Buddha or reclining Buddha. He has not passed into Nirvana because the toes of his left foot are slightly back from the toes on the right foot below indicating that his is still alive but near to his passing. The figure is huge and to the left are three more Buddhas posed in different mudras or symbolic gestures of meditation or blessing, two sitting and one standing. A group of Koreans stood in front of the reclining Buddha and chanted a prayer led by a man in monk-like garb in a comfortable style admired by Steve. We soon returned to the place where we began the tour and stopped at a restaurant which had built a separate room for a visit by the young Queen Elizabeth in 1955 and had a coke and watched the gathering rain pour on the land refreshing the plants and animals and the air. I loved the rain.
Back at the hotel Giritale to rest; I was full blown sick, no lunch, soup for dinner and eggs and potatoes for breakfast. Our leaving the hotel in the morning was accompanied by an Indian Style wedding; chairs were set along the veranda facing in, occupied by older women in saris. We walked the line and smiled, said hello and they grinned back in acknowledgment. A fancy couch was placed at one end of the line and in the middle was an altar with a metallic arch overhead. Musicians in Kandy costume paraded in and played and danced. I couldn't identify the bride or the groom, the families were having a great time and enjoyed our presence.
We left soon after breakfast and traveled to Danbulla further south. Steve and Wolley had designed our tour and one of the prominent highlights was to be a challenge, Sigiriya the mountain fortress; Steve was anticipating the 1200 stairs, mentally preparing himself like a fighter before a bout. We arrived at our hotel the Kandelama Hotel, built by Sri Lanka's most famous architect Jeffrey Bawa, it is molded in the rock below a promontory and it overlooks an expanse of plains and water and forest. It is a wonder. On the veranda overlooking a swimming pool the water flowed over the sides forming a filmy sheen, a huge reservoir tank and jungle spread out before the eye. We were whisked through a brutalist passage of concrete walls and bared stone into the interior of the massive building, the air flowing through our hair cooling and caressing. This was very high style and I was at my sickest state. The prices rose accordingly i.e. $5 bottle of Perrier. The food was bountiful and unending and delicious looking for that was all that I did, more soup for me. Steve and Wolley went to Danbulla to see the Sacred caves; I opted to remain and rest and write my blogs, many days behind. I napped and when I awoke I felt that I needed a stimulant to make a transition in my consciousness. I picked a table at the edge of the veranda overlooking the jungle and waters, set out my notebook and pen and ordered a scotch, a water and a coke. I was all set to get down with it. The waiter brought the scotch in a glass, the coke in a small carafe and the water in a bottle. He picked up the coke and began to pour it into the scotch, I shouted "no!"; heads turned at the next table. I asked for a glass to pour the coke into and he looked at me in confusion. I made gestures of pouring and drinking with still no understanding. I took a drink from the carafe willing to accept that alternative. He gave up trying and asked if I would like a glass for the coke. It was very funny. I had my usual scotch neat with a water back and a coke to have as an aside. I was on a float ready to go. I began to write, later it had gotten dark and a globe with a candle appeared next to me and I wrote on. Flute music drifted out of the darkness and colored the night. A young man on a rock above the swimming pool played for us in the fading light. Steve arrived having found me and brought me some Cipro from the pharmacy in Danbulla; I began my regime. I hadn't eaten any dinner in two days and tonight would be soup in a heaven of food varieties. I had two bowls, it was delicious.
We began by visiting the museum at Polannaruwa which held some of the finest bronzes, stone sculptures and glass objects from the period; a full mock-up of the complex provided a concept of the architecture. I am reminded of Chinese style hinted in the concept. The event of the day was a visit to the site of four Buddhas carved from a granite ridge; the most impressive being the sleeping Buddha or reclining Buddha. He has not passed into Nirvana because the toes of his left foot are slightly back from the toes on the right foot below indicating that his is still alive but near to his passing. The figure is huge and to the left are three more Buddhas posed in different mudras or symbolic gestures of meditation or blessing, two sitting and one standing. A group of Koreans stood in front of the reclining Buddha and chanted a prayer led by a man in monk-like garb in a comfortable style admired by Steve. We soon returned to the place where we began the tour and stopped at a restaurant which had built a separate room for a visit by the young Queen Elizabeth in 1955 and had a coke and watched the gathering rain pour on the land refreshing the plants and animals and the air. I loved the rain.
Back at the hotel Giritale to rest; I was full blown sick, no lunch, soup for dinner and eggs and potatoes for breakfast. Our leaving the hotel in the morning was accompanied by an Indian Style wedding; chairs were set along the veranda facing in, occupied by older women in saris. We walked the line and smiled, said hello and they grinned back in acknowledgment. A fancy couch was placed at one end of the line and in the middle was an altar with a metallic arch overhead. Musicians in Kandy costume paraded in and played and danced. I couldn't identify the bride or the groom, the families were having a great time and enjoyed our presence.
We left soon after breakfast and traveled to Danbulla further south. Steve and Wolley had designed our tour and one of the prominent highlights was to be a challenge, Sigiriya the mountain fortress; Steve was anticipating the 1200 stairs, mentally preparing himself like a fighter before a bout. We arrived at our hotel the Kandelama Hotel, built by Sri Lanka's most famous architect Jeffrey Bawa, it is molded in the rock below a promontory and it overlooks an expanse of plains and water and forest. It is a wonder. On the veranda overlooking a swimming pool the water flowed over the sides forming a filmy sheen, a huge reservoir tank and jungle spread out before the eye. We were whisked through a brutalist passage of concrete walls and bared stone into the interior of the massive building, the air flowing through our hair cooling and caressing. This was very high style and I was at my sickest state. The prices rose accordingly i.e. $5 bottle of Perrier. The food was bountiful and unending and delicious looking for that was all that I did, more soup for me. Steve and Wolley went to Danbulla to see the Sacred caves; I opted to remain and rest and write my blogs, many days behind. I napped and when I awoke I felt that I needed a stimulant to make a transition in my consciousness. I picked a table at the edge of the veranda overlooking the jungle and waters, set out my notebook and pen and ordered a scotch, a water and a coke. I was all set to get down with it. The waiter brought the scotch in a glass, the coke in a small carafe and the water in a bottle. He picked up the coke and began to pour it into the scotch, I shouted "no!"; heads turned at the next table. I asked for a glass to pour the coke into and he looked at me in confusion. I made gestures of pouring and drinking with still no understanding. I took a drink from the carafe willing to accept that alternative. He gave up trying and asked if I would like a glass for the coke. It was very funny. I had my usual scotch neat with a water back and a coke to have as an aside. I was on a float ready to go. I began to write, later it had gotten dark and a globe with a candle appeared next to me and I wrote on. Flute music drifted out of the darkness and colored the night. A young man on a rock above the swimming pool played for us in the fading light. Steve arrived having found me and brought me some Cipro from the pharmacy in Danbulla; I began my regime. I hadn't eaten any dinner in two days and tonight would be soup in a heaven of food varieties. I had two bowls, it was delicious.
In the night I awoke and knew that I was in a state of recovery, I actually felt better. The next day, Sigiriya our objective, the mountain top fortress palace of King Kasyapa awaited. It was a tooth-like knob rising from the floor of the plain and overlooked the land. King Kasyapa had usurped his father and killed him, his brothers escaped to India to gather an army to regain the throne. King Kasyapa had the fortress built on the mountain top to protect his throne in 473-480 AD.
We met our guide and took the first of 1200 steps to the top. A moat surrounding the mountain was built with the usual red brick and cut stone, so beautifully executed; a complex of baths and gardens and palaces lay within. We walked a path to the looming mountain. Steve moved ahead focusing his mind, meditating on this great work. I went with the guide who had moderate ability to speak English, strings of descriptive nouns to convey some meaning to the past. A spiral iron staircase reaching to near halfway up the cliff face beckoned us, alongside was another iron staircase built in the 1930s. This was the down spiral, the former was the up spiral leading to a niche in the cliff which held magnificent painted murals of women, naked breasts and jewels and beautiful countenances, the epitome of queens and courtesans.
We took the down spiral which led us to another stair taking us up to a shoulder on the mountain. Food stands and trinket kiosks awaited, but I rested and Steve hit the stairs which fitted between giant lion paws of brick-work. Originally a lion's visage loomed over the paws, the climber entering the mouth, but it has vanished. Sigiriya means "Lions rock" in Sinhala. I rested and cooled with my guide. The iron stairs spilt into up-stairs and down-stairs, workers pounded on steel pins holding them to the solid rock high above the ground; If it was OK with them it was OK by me. Foundations were all that remained of the palace, It reminded Steve of Machu Pichu. The view was far reaching in every direction. We remained a couple of hours in that place, Steve meditating in solitude. I climbed a stone cut stair to a royal platform overlooking a bath cut into solid stone and imagined a scene in the waters below me.
On climbing back down Steve opted to walk around the mountain, an hour's walk while Wolley and I chose a rest house to sit and recover. Steve was indefatigable. I did some writing to catch up and Wolley and I had a couple of cokes. We returned to the Kandelama Hotel and I was scheduled to have a massage that Steve had recommended from the night before. I was feeling better and stronger with the exercise and the Cipro regime and my aches and pains were diminishing. The pain in my mid back was almost gone and I was having no trouble moving or twisting. I had a feeling that this massage was going to be the healing answer. He gave me the name of the woman who was the miracle worker, Tri and she specialized in Asian technique; meaning deep and intense. I showered and was relaxed and she covered me with a towel and took me away to place of agony and healing. She was using her elbow on my latissimus dorsi; she asked in an angelic voice if it was too intense. I in my most relaxed voice that I could manage (in an agonized grunt) said, no it was fine. It made me laugh it sounded so full of pain. When she was done after an hour, I was in fact healed. I could move in any direction; the rest of my journey would be free of pain.
That night I had to restrain myself from indulging too much in the wonderful food, I did, but I gave it a good sampling. I was going to miss this place after the morning.
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