Interlude - A meal to forget

In Anuradhapura after a long day of temple hunting we are sleep deprived, dehydrated and feeling less than fresh. 

We are informed by our 25 year old guesthouse host that there is a good place nearby to eat called ‘Walkers’ next to another place to drink called ‘Cottages’. 

So off we go along the road, intermittently coming across stray dogs that scare the bejesus out of Rachel.  

We have read the reviews which state that the food they were served was cold. Now at this point I would like to say that I’m not sure how the Babajuntly world tour committee ratified the decision to eat here. We will be reviewing our decision making processes in due course. Anyhow we arrive and there are people sitting eating. So it can’t be that bad right? Besides all the other places in town have equally sub optimal reviews. 

We go to the buffet and order one chicken and one fish meal. It comes with a selection of vegetarian curries. The man behind the counter is not impressed when Rachel asks if there is any milk in the food for me. So much so he turns his back on her for a full 30 seconds. Unnerved but undeterred we wait for him to serve us. 

We find a table and sit down hungrily awaiting yet another Sri Lankan feast. However the food is cold as described in the review and the ‘chicken’ is definitely not chicken. 

Rachel has an expression on her face which is hard to put into words. It’s sort of like she is experiencing physical pain and extreme disappointment mixed with a scowl. If you know Rachel you will know that she really likes eating good food so this would be particularly amusing if I wasn’t also experiencing an awful meal. 

I suggest that we just finish the vegetarian parts of our meals which we do, wordlessly. When I go to pay she hisses “don’t give them a tip!” We quickly leave. 

Like a gambling addict trying to make back some losses quickly I wittily try lightening the mood by suggesting we have some drinks to kill all the bacteria we have probably ingested. The unscientific, hopeful part of my brain thinks this might actually work. The rational part of my brain declines to intervene. Another oversight by the committee. We enter. 

It’s hard to describe this place. It’s sort of like a mash up between a road side corner shop that only sells beer and whisky and a bolted on wedding reception venue complete with covered chairs and curtains round the walls. 

I order a 500ml beer and a shot of Sri Lanka’s least finest whiskey. It arrives and I relax into my seat to write some of our blog and drink away the thoughts of dinner. Rachel is still unsure but I reason that we have spent too much time in our guesthouse and need to be out instead. Plus she can post the scathing trip advisor review I know she is already writing in her head. 

The evening progresses and Rachel relaxes somewhat, she posts the review, we order another beer, relax some more, write some of our blog and we start chatting to two men; the only other patrons of this ‘bar’. They tell us that they work in metal crushing and engineering respectively and ask us about our travels. 

The metal crusher is very chatty and says he likes Rachel’s face and inevitably asks where she is from. England doesn’t cut it so she explains her Mauritian and Filipino parentage.  I agree that she has a lovely face and we all laugh. He orders us another beer which we do not want but out of politeness I drink it (I pay for it the next morning with a hangover, or possible poisoning impurities in the whisky).

We chat a bit longer and when some food arrives for the other table they insist that we eat some. Luckily it is deep fried salty prawns. Which counteracts the excessive beer consumption by me. And further erases any memories of the thoughts we might have eaten rat earlier. 

By now it’s time to leave and call an end to the disastrous evening. We say our goodbyes to the metal crusher who announces loudly that he will be (drink) driving home. But carefully so not to worry! The engineer who was much less drunk asks for our number and we accidentally give him the number of a tuk tuk driver from earlier in the day. Oops!

It’s another odd Sri Lankan experience. So whoever you are Mr Metal crusher and Mr Engineer thank you for the free drink and food it was very kind indeed and helped us get over our terrible meal earlier that evening...

Alex