Sri Lanka
Galle Fort
On my first visit to Galle Fort, back in 1992, a hustler approached in the street and whispered, “Pssst, wanna buy a villa?”.
I wish I had. Properties inside the Fort are now the height of designer desirability. On my last visit, one ‘do-er up-er’ was available for a mere $3 million and change.
Wanna buy a villa?
And for that tidy sum, you barely even get walls.
Although in February, Galle’s lack of walls is the ultimate indulgence.
The swankiest villas flow breezily onto an airy rear portico and courtyard garden, with, if you’re lucky, a refreshing pool. Arched doorways open nonchalantly onto an elegant front veranda enabling through-draft and sneak peeks from the street. The vibe is wafty, glammy and thoroughly jammy.
Galle Fort sits on an isthmus poking into the Indian Ocean, protruding off the south-westerly corner of the island once known, appropriately, as Serendip. From where the term 'serendipity' took its meaning.
Taprobane, Simhalan, Ceylon, Eelam … the country has since had more names than I’ve had egg hoppers. (Well … almost).
The egg hopper, by the way, is Reason #3 in its own right to visit Sri Lanka. Picture a bowl-shaped pancake, with a baveuse egg sitting at the bottom. Into this goes your breakfast curry of choice, along with a cooling coconut sambal. Cut the yoke and marvel as liquid gold mingles with your spicy feast!
If that hasn’t already transported you the 5,500 miles to Galle, imagine a colonial town nestled within 16th Century ramparts. Built by the Portuguese, fortified by the Dutch and pimped by the rich and famous. It has flavours of former colonial splendour, seasoned by time, spiced up with designer flair and punctuated by the odd 'surely-beyond-repair' ruin. Galle Fort embodies the melting pot that is Sri Lanka, with refinements, like gelato and Ralph Lauren styling.
It’s a heady recipe. Wooden porches, overgrown courtyards, swaying palms, creeping bougainvillea, slatted shutters, flaking patina, dark shadows penetrated by shafts of scorching sunlight, sudden tropical downpours forgotten in an instant, exuberant surf held back by the robust parapets, washing fluttering flamboyantly on the line, tuk tuks clustered together for maximum colour-clash, a gaggle of convivial locals curious to chat, commanding churches sat beside collapsing villas.
The exquisite patina of time
With the influx of all-you-can-eat tourism, many visitors tick-off Galle on a rushed day-trip.
Exhausted bicycle, invigorating door
But don’t.
Whilst you could ‘see it all’ in a few hours, it takes several days to take it all in.
The exhausted bicycle propped against an invigorating red door, neither adequately locked, of course.
The uniformed guard vigilantly protecting an artfully dilapidated shell of a building, roofless but far from worthless.
Curly Sinhalese signage officially alerting you to goodness knows what. It barely seems to matter here.
Free range peacocks roaming the rooftops with a combination of arrogant ostentation and distinctive warble.
Dutch and English cannon pointed, not at the threat from the sea, but at the real threat from the Sri Lankan mainland.
The funny tune on repeat, signalling the arrival of the morning bread tuk tuk.
With a manageable grid of practically-named streets, Lighthouse Street, Cross Street, Middle Street, Rampart Street, etc., it’s hard to get properly lost here. But losing yourself in this charming, intoxicating, ‘just so’ place is entirely the point.
This involves exploring the lesser side streets, poking your nose into each of the shops to take in their wonderful courtyards, ditto Galle’s various museums, seeing off one of the occasional shower from the vantage point of your pool, and of course rambling around the ramparts at dawn (better than sunset, when tourists swarm there).
The serendipity takes about three or four days to start to find you. But after that, it’s pretty much guaranteed.
Old shutters, new lease of life
One afternoon, I lingered in Court Square, in front of the Magistrate’s Courts, to paint a swarm of tuk tuks gathered around a huge Banyan tree. At 4pm on the dot, the court buildings emptied and the tuk tuks sped off one by one, emptying the square. Two minutes later, stumps had been set up in their place and the whole square transformed into an impromptu cricket pitch. The tree trunk was wicket keeper. I found myself at silly mid-on, dodging the odd enthusiastic cover drive. I painted on, with the game playing around me in good spirit.
Exhausted bicycle, invigorating door
I did end up completing my painting hastily and slightly less zealously than usual.
Sri Lankans are amongst the kindest, most welcoming and warmest people in the world I've found. Even their most competitive games of cricket are friendlies.
Another day, I selected a view to paint in Lighthouse Street, carefully positioning myself in a pool of deep shade. As the day heated up, my shade rapidly got eaten up. I was left clinging to an increasingly thin wedge, which soon vanished entirely. Moving would alter the perspective, so I had no choice but to sweat my work. An onlooker next door, delighted his street was attracting attention, brought me ice-cold water, followed later by a plate of homemade short eats.
While curry is Sri Lanka’s Top Trump, food-wise, short eats are a cultural phenomenon, not just a food.
These nibbles, patties, rotis, samosas, curry puffs, spring rolls, fried cutlets and the like typically appear behind Perspex cabinets, on roadside stalls or café counters. Essentially, an any-time counter-measure against hunger, peak short eat is around 5pm - heading home time for locals and beer o’clock for tourists. This makes them Sri Lanka’s closest thing to tapas. A daft reference, as Spanish is about the only influence not at play here. Instead, what you will find is traces of Sri Lanka’s multi-cultural history; the empanada (Dutch / Indonesian), tiffin (British), bolinho (Portuguese) and Indian street food
At the other end of the spectrum, the swankiest dining experience in town indisputably is the terrace at The AmanGalla. Don’t sweat the menu, plump straight for their local curry selection.
Sri Lankan rice and curry typically features separate dishes for each vegetable and protein. At any humble roti shack, you’ll end up being served multiple plates. At the Aman, the selection is so extensive, an entire additional table is brought to accommodate it. It’s a feast for both eyes and taste buds.
And nicely plump is how you’ll feel afterwards.
Honourable mentions also go to the curries at Church Street Social and The Fort Printers. Both are excellent and served in settings with a hint of Shoreditch chic.
Courtyard drama
To complete a quartet of Sri Lankan cuisine classics, you can’t leave the island without experiencing a kottu. The dish is actually named after the sound of it being made, ‘koththu’ meaning ‘to chop’ in Tamil. The result of all that knife action is an artful assemblage of roti, chicken, egg, seafood, onions, chilli and whatever other ingredients the chopper fancies. Sort of a Sri Lankan Pad Thai, if that makes any sense.
Peacock strut
The place to go to make sense of is Lio Periosa. It's far from flash, but the kottu there is chop chop tip top.
Galle also offers many top places to stay, most of them with prices toppy by Sri Lankan standards. Which is saying something. The island embraced the term 'boutique' two or three decades ago and is now arguably the designer hotel capital of Asia. For good reason.
On my most recent visit, I chose the villa of a celebrity Sri Lankan cricketer. Complete with the requisite lack of walls. It was airy and dreamy.
On a previous trip, I was thoroughly well looked after in the Galle Fort Hotel, where I was given the Library Suite, a room so vast, I could have played badminton in it. (And that’s not even their best room.) Their pool and courtyard is the stuff of dreams.
But I no longer have to dream of this little pocket of paradise, I’ve already booked my return, combining Galle with a week’s surf and yoga retreat, further along the coast at Ahangama.
Well, I’ll have to work off all those egg hoppers, curries, kottus and short eats somehow.
A Few Links and Practicalities
(Just sharing the love. I absolutely don’t get paid for these.)
Galle Fort Hotel
www.galleforthotel.com
AmanGalla Hotel
www.aman.com/resorts/amangalla/dining
Fort Printers Hotel and 39 Bistrot
www.thefortprinters.com/bistro-bar
Church Street Social at the Fort Bazaar Hotel:
https://www.teardrop-hotels.com/fort-bazaar/dining/
42 Lighthouse Street
My cushy villa also had access to the pool and facilities at the Fort Bazaar Hotel, which now cherishes one of the nicest pools in the Fort
Wherever you stay, do make sure it’s within the Fort itself, not in Galle new town, which is strictly for practicalities only or outside, which renders you a day visitor to the Fort, heaven forbid.
You can stop off at various lovely beach villas as you make your way down from the airport. (I rate Bentota). But with the new motorway, you can now blast down to Galle in about 2 hours. Many flights land at unsociable times anyway, so maybe best to just take the hit, along with the jetlag.
Soul and Surf:
www.soulandsurf.com/retreats/sri-lanka/
Nestled in a cove in trendy Ahangama, this is the place for your surf and yoga retreat. The family atmosphere here is phenomenal. In fact, besides the egg hopper, this is one of the reasons I keep coming back to this corner of Sri Lanka.
Don’t miss;
Sunset on the ramparts.
The Black Fort or Zwart Bastion. Hidden in the northeast corner of the ramparts. Worth the small entrance fee for the historical atmosphere.
KK Collection, probably the best shopping and wonderful courtyards.
Only outdone by Exotic Roots at 37 Lighthouse Street. This is simultaneously the most beautiful and most overpriced shopping experience in town. So much so that it probably won't be trading by the time you go there. But whatever's in it's place will be worth checking out simply for the building alone.
Did I mention the curry?