MANIC COLOMBO

It was the early hours when we touched down in Colombo, Sri Lanka – Two’s Company had landed at last, months after our initial trip was scuppered by storm weather.

Warm? That doesn’t cut it. You know that feeling when you step out of a plane’s air-conditioned bubble and wham it slaps you square in the face? Thick, humid, dense air that tells you you’re a million miles from home. Colombo was exactly that, warm, heavy and as we pushed through immigration and customs, so clearly not anywhere we’d been before.

Taxi drivers were three deep in the arrivals hall chaos, all clambering to find their fares. More than once someone shoved an irregularly shaped piece of card with someone else’s name under our noses… a quick shake of the head, a shrug  and they were off again hunting for their Mr and Mrs Whoever.

An hour or so later we enjoyed a cup of tea and coffee at the Kulatunga household. Still blows our mind that it’s been 20 years since we’d last sat together like this.

The next day we had a first-hand city tour  and we headed back to “school” – St Joseph’s, though definitely not the Barlick one where our girls had their early years. Cricket nets, swimming and exam season were in full swing… the facilities were brilliant and the way practice was structured and organised showed real care for the kids. Security guards at the gates and parents lingering to pick up those attending holiday events – some things don’t change, do they?

Colombo’s take on education felt familiar enough. What isn’t familiar is getting around this place. Horns blare non-stop, brakes screech like metal on metal, scooters weave through gaps you didn’t know existed – and then there are the buses, rolling works of art that charge forward like they own the road. Meanwhile tuk-tuks  dart across traffic in every direction imaginable, each driver seeming to have a death wish and a grin to match. Madness!  Real, full-on madness. “What the dickens? For goodness sake!” I spluttered more than once – to which Thineth just grinned and with a wry smile said: “It’s normal in Colombo!” He kept talking while weaving a pathway through the moving jigsaw puzzle that somehow just worked, how? I have no idea but it did..!

From there we headed to the port area, home to a man-made beach with facilities that feel far more exclusive than inclusive. So close to the city centre, yet somehow worlds away – meaning for many locals they’re completely out of reach. You can’t miss the divide here: some have plenty, others have next to nothing. With political challenges and offices that don’t always operate as they should, that gap between classes just keeps growing wider. Still, the sand was soft and golden, water lapping gently at the artificial shore – though a sign warned bluntly: swim at your own risk. In the distance, Colombo’s skyline stood proud but shrouded in a haze of heat and smog, the endless traffic we’d navigated earlier a major culprit for that thick, heavy air.

Then it was up 29 floors in South Asia’s fastest lift to the top of the Lotus Tower – the 18th highest free-standing structure in the world and the tallest in Asia.

The views were stunning, though smog had settled like a dome over everything, cutting down visibility in every direction.

Pointing out key spots and buildings with the boys was a laugh all the same.

Way below, we could make out the green, stagnant lake we’d visited earlier to see the Gangaramaya temple.

The water was filthy green – our guide shook his head in dismay: “They simply do not care – they’re polluting their own religious area.” Even so, the temple itself was immaculately looked after; golden statues of Buddha surrounded it, gleaming bright in the patches of sunlight that fought through the haze.

And the Bodhi tree was magnificent – to think it was planted 2,500 years ago by a monk from India makes it feel incredibly sacred and important.

It was time for us to head back through the mayhem as later we were leaving for the coast, a real Sri Lankan adventure was about to begin.