Definitely our most gruelling day so far, climbing up Ella Rock. The guides said it’s not for the faint hearted, and they weren’t kidding. It didn’t help that, as a blog or two had warned, the way up isn’t clear, and sure enough we missed it.
We were still headed in more or less the right direction, but a bit nonplussed, and were happy to find ourselves hailed then adopted by a man working in a field, who came over and started leading us along tiny tracks we never would have found for ourselves, pointing out tea plants, a porcupine’s burrow, pig-snuffling damage and much else besides. After 20 minutes or so we rejoined the main track, thanked him for his help, gave him a couple of quid, and told him we’d be fine from here.
It proved to be further, a lot further, mostly up tangled paths strewn with rocks and not a few slippery boulders, but we took it slow and steady and eventually reached the ticket office, where we handed over our 930 a head for a pretty ticket – stamped, naturally – they do seem to love their stamps – and headed for the first viewpoint. Stunning views all round, despite the misty overcast. Made all the slog very much worthwhile.
Following one of the tracks through the woods, we heard what sounded like an angry altercation, and soon came across a Brit, grappling with a Sri Lankan guy. Lots of pushing and pulling and general argy-bargy. It quickly became clear that the guy had managed to avoid the ticket office, and though waving a screwed up bit of paper, had no ticket, stamped or otherwise. He was clearly minded to bullshit, bluster and intimidate his way out of his dilemma, trading on being a head taller and a good bit meatier than his adversary, but the Sri Lankan guy was having none of it. We left them altercating, and made our way to the next viewpoint – even better than the first, and significantly less occupied.
Then down again – still quite arduous, and demanding full concentration, but a helluva lot easier with the help of Mr Gravity. A brief and refreshing foot-dandle in some rapids at the bottom, then back along the tracks, pausing only for a couple of delicious, freshly made fruit juices at a cafe with a view.