My troubles flew out of the window as the ‘Galu Kumari’ took me to Beliatta
Smooth journey: Rediscovering joy of rail travel
“Where do you think I should stand for the AC compartment?” I asked the morose railway attendant.
Without answering, he pointed towards the end of the long platform. A minute earlier, I had heard him shouting at a commuter over a query and I assumed I too would not be spared if I needed a further clarification about whether he meant 20 or 50 feet away.
I had spent Rs. 250 to travel by trishaw from Ratmalana to the Mount Lavinia railway station to reserve my seat for the journey to Beliatta last week. My vehicle couldn’t be moved due to lack of fuel, hence the decision to travel by train to the village. I found the roads deserted as if a curfew had been imposed. Today, the meter read Rs. 320 and when I questioned the driver he looked at me as if I was an alien and said fuel prices had been increased the previous night. The poor man had stayed in a queue for 18 hours to get his quota with which he could run only for two days. I was glad I didn’t drive a trishaw for a living.
As I reached the platform built by the British 150 years ago, a score of glum faces greeted me. Most like me had had to garage their cars and may have been reflecting on the fascinating drive they would usually make on the sleek motorway to Hambantota, now only a memory. Since the government had declared a work-from-home for two weeks, a few white-collar workers were around, not bothering about working hours.
The spanking new blue and white ‘Galu Kumari’ arrived on time, and I had to rush with two heavy pieces of luggage to find my first-class compartment. I couldn’t help wishing the attendant had been a little kinder. But once on board, for a moment I forgot that I was in Sri Lanka – it could have easily been a compartment in Bologna or Nagasaki that I was trying to find my reserved seat in. What luxury in a land bombarded by such economic woes and sunk so low in the eyes of the world?
The scorching afternoon sun had no impact on me as I settled into the luxurious reclining window seat, storing my heavy luggage on the sturdy shelf on top. There was a free flow of cool air-conditioning from the ducts, and I opened the curtains wide since the sun was on the opposite seaside. A mechanical footrest helped keep my tired feet up.
Glancing around I saw that more than half in the compartment were tourists. Silently thanking them for coming to a country in which the coffers have run bone dry, I made a mental note to talk to one or two during the four-hour journey.
The ‘Galu Kumari’ took off so smoothly, I knew we were moving only because I happened to pass the surly railway attendant. I was on a train plying the coastal line after 30 years!
We passed rapidly expanding coastal townships, swelling slums of fishermen, abandoned construction-sites, ad hoc structures, empty byroads, closed restaurants and shops, and garbage dumps. The traditional red clay bricks being replaced with concrete blocks had made the half built structures an untidy eyesore, the troubled urban landscape seemingly adding to the desolation brought about by the collapsed economy. Except for boys playing cricket, there weren’t many human movements and I presumed most were queuing for essentials on the main road.
Beyond Panadura, I felt I was travelling through familiar territory. Gradually, the landscape became dominated by verdant stretches of coconut. The southwest monsoon had been active and we flew past flowing waterways, hotels, villas with manicured lawns surrounded by flowery groves. Some coastal areas had become tourist belts, I noticed.
I saw my companion from the Netherlands admiring the untouched coastal wilderness, seemingly not worried about the economic situation of the island but looking forward to her ten-day holiday in the backpackers paradise of Mirissa.
It began to pour at Ambalangoda, and I woke up only when we reached Galle.
My window now overlooked the Indian Ocean with the change of direction at Galle. The vegetation became thicker and wilder through which the setting sun dipped making vivid colours appear on the horizon. The train stopped at every station after Galle and three quarters of passengers got down at Matara. It was pleasing to note how well these charming colonial railway stations down the line were maintained
In a while, we left the coast and travelled inland on the recently added track as darkness fell, traversing through the longest tunnel on the coastal line at Kakanadura. I looked for a glimpse of the Buddha statues at Veherahena and Wavurukannala, but there was a cruel power cut on. The clock said seven when we reached Beliatta, and the state-of-art station built by the Chinese in 2018. I had prebooked a diesel trishaw to take me home and was relieved as many were seen walking towards the town looking for transport.
On my way, I couldn’t help thanking the Indian government – for both the train and the fuel to drive that train had come from nowhere else but India!
Searching for an ideal partner? Find your soul mate on Hitad.lk, Sri Lanka's favourite marriage proposals page. With Hitad.lk matrimonial advertisements you have access to thousands of ads from potential suitors who are looking for someone just like you.