Sri Lanka: tea time! Nuwara Eliya

I'm on the most beautiful train ride ever from Kandy To Nuwara Eliya. Sure it is slow, noisy and rocky but the landscape is amazing. I pass lush forests, shanty towns, temples, waterfalls and a lot of tea. The hill country of Sri Lanka is renowned for its plantations, constructed by the British and converted from coffee to tea after an epidemic of fungal disease.

Getting to my hotel proves quite difficult because there are 3 places named King Fern, an consequence of the Lonely Planet recommendation. I settle for King Fern Bungalow and take a short cut trough the some backyards to Nuwara Eliya centre. It's also called Little Britain because it housed a lot of British tea owners. There is still a golf course, Victoria Park and a colonial style post office. Here I stop to send my post-loving friends some personalised cards.

Back in the hotel I meet my travel companions for tomorrow: AJ and Deborah. AJ is a fun girl originally from Australia, but she's lived in sooo many places I consider her a true world citizen. Deborah is an energetic and extrovert lady from the States who has been everywhere and more. After a short night, the gang wakes up at 5.00, energetically chit chatting all the way to Horton's plains. Here we follow the popular trail passing World's End, wondering how nice it would've been without rain and clouds to block the potentially brilliant view. Because of the varied flora and pleasant group it was still a very fun trip.

Our driver suggests to visit a tea factory. This time, undisrupted by a suicidal deer, there is some snoring in the back of the car. We arrive at Mackwoods, and visit the factory. Interesting but not that impressive compared to my 1300-tonnes-a-day factory at home. Very worrying is the lack of safety measures and the abundance of women. They are valued for plucking because of there 'skill-full and agile hands' but are still paid less than their male counterparts. After the visit we have some really delicious tea and chocolate cake.

A very chaotic evening ensues: I lose my debit-card, we hear about a nation wide train-strike, a travel-weary English couple arrives and there are squirrels running around in the ceiling. We (not the squirrels) all end up in front of the stove, drinking Arrack, the tasty local rum. One of the nicest days of the entire trip!

Link to pics.