Forty Miles From Paradise.

“On top of the mountain, God sits on Adam's peak
Throwing his heavenly blessings to our nation
Blessed our country known to the
world as the Garden of Eden.”

 “I Love My Country, Sri Lanka.” -Ravi Sathasivam.

“Right now I am writing from the balcony of a guest house.  It is dark except for the light above me and the lights from the four other homes or guest houses hidden in the trees planted in the rich soil of the steep sloping mountains.  The sound of the river directly below rushing down from tall peaks, swooshing over rocks and low hanging branches chimes in amongst the whistling song of chirping crickets like some iambic poem, all stanzas in nature’s own ode to herself.  I am at the base of a sacred mountain in Sri Lanka, called Adam’s Peak.  In a few hours I will begin the holy pilgrimage to the top.  It is a holy mountain for billions of people.  It is believed that it is where the Prophet Adam first stepped after being cast down from paradise, and also believed to be where the Buddha stood on his visit to the Island before transcending in to Nirvana, with a large footprint on the mountain bearing his mark.  To the Hindus though, the foot print comes from Lord Shiva, where he stepped as he created the world.  Thousands on thousands of Buddhists, Hindus, and Muslims all make the sacred trek in a pilgrimage to the top, and tonight, I join the journey, to pray on holy mountains and watch the sun rise and slowly light and warm the mountainous jungles of this tear drop island.”

- Excerpt from my journal.

After the drive over the storming mountain we arrived at our guest house, nestled amongst the mountains, sitting above a rushing rivers and overlooking that sacred mountain, Adam’s Peak.  Here too we had a private balcony, looking directly to the scenery of mountain gardens and tall peaks.  The air was that perfect mountain air after a hard rain, a cool and calm breeze, the smell of damp earth and trees, rustling of leaves, clouds, and the gushing of a river descending down a holy mountain, carving through an island onward to the ocean. We met two other teachers living in the UAE, and two German gals out traveling Asia.  We stayed up and talked and it all reminded me of some of why I love to travel.  I love meeting and talking with people the world over.  I am a very shy person in my own personal life, and make few acquaintances, and fewer friends.  It is difficult for me to meet people, despite any wish for it, but out traveling, out alone in foreign places, I meet so many, and I love it.  I got only a couple short hours of sleep and woke at half past two to being the journey up the mountain.  The two teachers living in the U.A.E. and the two German gals climbed with me, and the five us headed up the dark mountain.  We went up steep and muddy hills through brush and trees and mud in search of the path.  It seemed we were lost and traipsing through the brush of a wet mountain jungle brought us presents of small leeches sucking the blood from under our pant legs and letting the blood trickle down our legs.  We did make it to the trail and we all began the climb up in the dark of the night guided by the dim flashlight on my cell phone. 

  It was a hard hike up, thousands of steps reaching up the steep mountain and even in the cold of darkness, the hard journey and humidity brought a labored sweat.  The hike was fun though, with great conversations the whole way up.  One of the German galls seemed to think her friend and I paired up well and jokingly said I could have her friend for ten camels.  That’s a hefty price, as camels are very expensive and prized animals.  Throughout the night she kept dropping the number of camels and at the end of the hike she offered her friend for only two camels.  I never bartered at all, as her friend was worth the price of ten camels, but she said we seemed too much alike and it was fate, so she couldn’t stand in the way.  They were awesome girls.

  Adam’s Peak is also called “Butterfly Mountain” because of the numerous butterflies fluttering about the island that come to die upon the sacred mountain.  We did make it to the top, no longer protected from the winds that swooped coldly across the high mountain, everyone bundling in jackets and wind breakers and watching the sun rise up above the clouds.  It was amazing to see.  Adam’s Peak rose so much higher than the mountains around that it cast a large triangle shadow out across the clouds, and oh, those clouds!  They lay in thick white carpets that made it seem the vastness of mountains peering through them were but countless islands rising tall from white waters of a foggy sea.  I wondered to myself that if this were the place Adam was cast down to as punishment for his transgression, then what must Paradise have looked like?  There was a saying that from Ceylon, or Sri Lanka, it was only 40 miles from  Paradise, and Adam had been cast to this place as punishment so as not to be too overwhelmed.  This place was the place closest to and most like paradise. It is strange to think that a place so fittingly called serendipity, and a mountain peak with such amazing views could be considered punishment for any person.  What glories must lied ahead for us then.  I loved it all.

  We stayed at top gazing out to the 360 degree views with the sun climbing higher and the mountains and jungle below us.  It was fascinating, and the cold wind blew hard in a whistling slither across our faces.  We waited and waited up top, continuing to look outward, not ready or wanting to descend the many steps, tired from the climb up, and far too restful, far too amazed at the views, the wind, the smell of crisp air, to want to leave, but we did, and made the descent down the mountain through jungle green mountains.  Back at the guest house, we all ate breakfast together, and Ruth woke up and joined us.  Soon, I said farewell to new friends and set off with Ruth for another destination. 

  Most of that day we spent driving, though, in a place like Sri Lanka, a drive makes its own memorable holiday.  We drove through Sri Lanka’s famed tea plantations, spread out over mountains that swooned with pictures lakes.  Each sight was a paradise.  Crafted rows of green bushes rolled up and down and across in curved lines of amazing artistry.  What craftsman created such garden wonders?  It was a symmetry of lines, perfectly filtering the hillsides of dark green, rich brown soil, and blue and clear air, and clean, wonderful waters. 

  We drove through miles, hours of such spectacular scenery, oohing and aweing at every bend.  Women old and young tied large cloth bags to their heads and picked tea leaves from the plantations hills, smiling widely and wildly as we drove past or stopped for views.  Were they as happy as their smiles to us presented?  I wondered at their thoughts, they who live in paradise, but perhaps numbed of the constant beauty and tired of long and monotonous labor. 

  We walked around a plantation, through the rows of Ceylon tea bushes, baskets on our heads as we walked the aisles.  We toured the factory and tasted the tea with a lovely young guide who explained she was happy she spoke English because that meant she did not have to pick leaves in the fields but got to work as a guide, and that all the women there worked the plantations as an only option, an inheritance and birthright passed down to each little girl.  Although near the entire day was spent in a car, it was a fantastic day.  We stopped when we wished for quick snapshots or a breath of that wonderful air.  We were invited in to a small Christian church made of stone that stood atop a hill with a lake below.  We were invited in to walk the small chapel, the old hand carved wooden pews and podium, the colorful stain glassed windows that leaked in light, and outside a small cemetery in the shade of trees.  Yes, sometimes a drive is all you need, and writing this, remembering this, calls to memory the many Sunday drives with my mother up over the mountain pass back home to the green valley surrounded by manly mountains, or family vacations where we would use a day simply to drive about the country surrounding us.  Sometimes, a drive is exactly what you need.

“In vain. Let doubts assail the weak;
Unmoved and calm as ‘Adam's Peak,’”

   “Outward Bound” –Austin Dobson.