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30th January 2000
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West meets East'So we made it then'

Well I might have made it this far into my trip still intact, but not unscathed, it would seem. This week has felt like one long climb uphill. The reason? One long climb up a very large hill - make that mountain - last weekend, that has rendered me without the full use of both legs for the last few days. Sri Pada, Adam's Peak, the place where Adam (or was it Buddha, or was it Saman or Lord Shiva?) left their footprint and/or the place that butterflies go to die.

For me the place was simply steeped in magic and myth - including my favourite: that the mountain grants you one wish as you ring the bell up at the top. It had to be done sometime during my stay in Sri Lanka and when it was suggested by a friend about to depart these shores that 'now' was the time I found little reason to argue.

A 'once-in- a-lifetime experience' the guidebooks say. And now, as I sit doused in Siddhalepa balm wincing with every baby-step I take, I thoroughly understand why - never again! On approach to the mountain, the fairyland-like lights that illuminate the winding path to the top looked spectacular, enticing even. There's certainly something awe-inspiring about Adam's Peak.

The explanations seem to be varying and all-inclusive; religious, historical, mythical, legendary and simply its natural beauty. Whatever the reason its seductive lure is a powerful one - it must be to have taken my weary legs and those of all my fellow pilgrims to the top of what has to be one of the steepest and longest flights of stairs in the world.

In the guest-house we chatted excitedly with our fellow pilgrims whilst we ate a fortifying dinner, entertained and encouraged by the guest house owner's tales of dedicated pilgrims who took the trip up to three times a day. 'So it can't be so hard' we enthused. How quick we were to underestimate the dedication and devotion of these committed few - it was and is 'that' hard, as we were soon to find out.

A 2 a.m start allowed us plenty of time to reach the summit by sunrise and two- and -a- half-hours later our youthful legs slowed to the pace of arthritic geriatrics, we reached the top. It's hard not to feel a traitor somehow to the mountain to describe the climb, yes it was tough, seemingly endless and at times almost unbearable, but it also somehow seemed as though the challenge or the mountain itself helped pull us up. 

The dog that accompanied us all the way (surely a devotee in a former life), the compassion offered to revive the sick and weary with supplies and words of encouragement, the man climbing using his arms and one leg - inspired us all to carry on to the top. An analogy for our climb through life if ever I saw one!

We gasped en-masse at the sunrise, then swiftly made our way around to the other side to catch the perfect triangular shadow cast over the rolling landscape below, so perfect in fact, you felt that if you waved you might see your arm movements cast against the trees below. 

In this half hour of contemplation as chants echoed around the summit everybody's thoughts seemed to turn inwards, again it was as if the mountain took control and a hush of reverence could be felt all around.

'So we made it then' - our postcards from the post office at the top would have declared. 'Would have' if what must surely be, the most remote post office in Sri Lanka had deemed it fit to sell stamps! 

I contemplated for a moment the life of the postman whose job it is to climb Sri Pada daily to retrieve what mail there is. I wondered whether this job would be seen as a curse or a blessing? This daily solitary trek, all the way up and then all the way back down again - was this good karma for the next life or bad residue from the last? I realised that this was a little like asking if the glass is half empty or half full. 

Watching men heaving huge sacks of supplies back up on my way down however, in awe of their slow meditative pace, their determined sweating brows, I was at the same time relieved that it wasn't me who had to make this pilgrimage not out of choice but to survive.

Hobbling back into 'Mount', my landlord Roshan greeted me as if I'd been through the initiation process that instantly transformed me from 'foreigner' to honorary local status 'and you've got the right colour too' he added with surprise at the eventual transition of my skin from red to brown. Considering that he hasn't climbed Sri Pada himself, it would seem that by his definition I'm now more of an 'official' Sri Lankan than him! 

Which is strange, but perhaps coincidental, as I could have sworn that I'd wished for independence, freedom and self-reliance as I rang the bell out over that mountain loud and clear.

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