Another farcical start to the day. Google said we needed the 57 or the 87 to go to Jaffna, (the train is another one that’s been taken out by the typhoons, or we’d definitely have gone that way) and the bus stop was by the police roundabout. Just as we were leaving, our host kindly offered a tuk tuk ride to the new bus station, where we could catch the Jaffna bus, but we turned him down on the grounds that with the prospect of all day sitting on the bus we needed the exercise. A la Julia ‘Pretty Woman’ Roberts, Big mistake. Big. Huge.
It was a hot, sun-dazzled, sweaty slog to the police roundabout, where there was no sign of a bus stop for Jaffna where Google said it would be. We asked the people waiting at the bus stop that did exist where we could get the bus to Jaffna and they gestured up there and left. We went up there and left, no sign of a bus stop. I said they probably thought we were asking which way to Jaffna. Which it was. But no bus, and no stop.
We tried asking a couple of people for advice but they obviously spoke no English whatsoever, so we were at a bit of a loss. Then a nice man appeared and asked if we needed help. We explained the situation and he confirmed there was no stop here, pointing us another kilometre or so up the road, where we would find the new bus station. The sun wasn’t easing off any, and we were getting more ruddy, sweaty and flustered by the second, but set off like the game backpackers we are.
Eventually we got to the new bus station, where a man told us there there was no direct bus to Jaffna. What we had to do was catch the bus to Vauniya, which he said was some kind of traffic hub, where buses from Kandy to Jaffna, Colombo to Jaffna and all points south to Jaffna stopped. Google was still insisting that the 57 would take us all the way; the nice man pointed us to the right stop, which was just around the corner. We went there to find a 57 waiting, and asked the driver. Guess what? He was not going to Jaffna. He pointed us back to the bus station. We found the bus to Vauniya and got on, mostly just relieved to shed the packs and be out of the heat.
While we waited for the bus to leave, a man got on the bus and launched into a detailed explanation, along with live demonstration, of how to use the awls he was selling, putting stiches into a piece of belt leather. It was really quite impressive, and having tried using one in my youth I have to say he was certainly a lot better at it than I ever was.
Soon after we eventually got going, Virle pointed out that we were now stopping to pick up passengers at a bus stop not two minutes from the hotel we’d set out from a little over an hour earlier. I suggested she think positive, and that it would make an amusing little anecdote for my blog. Strangely, the amusement seemed lost on her.
The rest of the journey was uneventful, if long, and the connection went fine, with the last three hours or so on the filthiest bus we’d yet been on (and that’s really saying something, believe me) and we eventually reached Jaffna, where our host had said he’d pick us up if we WhatsApp’d him, so we did. He said he’d be there in 15 minutes. He wasn’t. Tired, hot and bothered, we waited around for another ten minutes, till we received a message saing ‘I’m here’. Well, great. Where is ‘here’? We’d passed the phone to a helpful local to tell him where we were, but he hadn’t managed to find us. Finally, he did, and we slumped with relief into the luxury of AC.
Ten minutes later we arrived at the hotel, which proved to be all marble and gold and dark wood and that kind of studied obsequiousness that some places seem to imagine constitutes good service. Maybe we’ll warm to the place, but at the moment we’re feeling a bit alienated by the whole setup. Sure things will look better after a bit of a rest and a decent dinner.
The cafe in the pic, in passing, is the local one in our last place, which served us well for breakfasts and lunches while we were there. Just the kind of place we like: friendly, good unpretentious food, and cheap!