The early bird gets the worm

The early start seemed to be a bit of a slog to begin with, however as the day progressed it became more and more apparent of the astuteness of the plan. The full moon was lighting up the landscape with an eery glow as we trundled along narrow winding roads in the night. Very few signs of life (apart from the occasional street light).

Climbing ever upwards we got to view the spectacular sun rise slowly lighting up the eastern horizon. Over in the distance Adams peak was glowing with a light trail allowing thousands of locals to get to the top to view the same celestial event. In our neck of the woods we passed a sentinent wind farm, a dark strawberry farm, a glowing milk factory and thus (not that we could see) lots of dairy farms. Farm City (so to speak). Leaving all this peaceful countryside behind, the road got bumpier and winding as it switchbacked it's way up a step forested hill. Ever upwards we climbed in the increasing daylight until arriving at the park gates with the 20 or so like looking vans. Just hanging around whilst the guides all rushed down to the ticket counter. We had made good time. Originally thought the idea was to watch the sunrise. Whereas the real plan was to be at gate opening at 6:00 am so we could catch the sight of grazing deer before they headed bush in the heat of the day, as well as enjoy the highlands before the inevitable mist envelopes the views and then the inevitable delugue drowns the poor suckers who are victims of bad planning. And so we saw our deer (no good pics) and then headed off on the treck of the circuit. 9kms and 3.5 hours later with aching legs we had done it. The Horton plains sit on top of the central mountains of the island. Seriously high up they are kept clear of trees by the deer, specific soil types, lots of water seeping through it and probably other factors this blogger is unaware of. The circuit has 3 key destinations with a variety of landscapes in between. Grassy plains, jungle (repleat with monkeys, squirrels, hooting owls etc.), trickling brookes with croaking frogs to name a few. First destination (#1) was Little Worlds End. Called so because the land drops away straight down a vertigo inducing cliff. From below, this would be the top of the escarpment. From the top it's an equivalent view from an aeroplane - seeing the village way below.

Given a good hoik with a frisbee you'd reckon you could reach it. Ain't no way I'd be taking steps at speed towards that edge to try though. Good planning by the authorities to place razor wire all the way along to discourage idiots going too close. Better to get sliced up a bit than face certain death if you indavertingly took one step too many when taking a selfie. The path through the jungle to #2 was precarious due to serious errosion and we found ourselves stepping over boulders and slippery rocks with water seeping and trickling everywhere. Navigate it well we did. Fascinating to listen to the conversations of globe trotters and where they're from, what they've done and where they want to go. Real Estate - didn't pick that. World's End was a (predictedably - given the naming convention) more spectacular drop and view. Here we stopped for breakfast, kindly packaged incorrectly by our hotel staff who really should know better. Considering they do this every day (we saw at least 20 lined up when we got ours). Before we entered the park there was yet another queue and wait whilst the park security went through everyone's bags and removed plastic wrappers from water bottles, plastic bags which food was in and the like. I get they should not provide rubbish bins inside, but surely people can take out their own rubbish? Well apparently not. Given all that strict security the amount of rubbish left along the track was disapointing. The most surprising was broken thongs. People would prefer to leave broken footware behind than take it with them. Then there were the discarded water bottles. Arrghhh.. ideally these people being so stupid would actually manage get over the razor wire. Before they breed. Rant aside... It was good to have some sustinence before the long treck back through the grasslands as the day slowly warmed up. Without doubt we went the right way around (anti-clockwise). As the halfway point was passed so we're all those going in the other direction. Some seriously struggling. And they had only done the easy bit do far. Didn't have the heart to tell them the bad news of what was ahead..or indeed that there was no apparent rescue service, hopefully they got through alive.

Up the valley the treck continued broken by #3 which is lovely little cascade called Bakers Falls. Seemingly the English first found them.. A quick photo session ensued and off we went - the stairs out of the gully were a doddle after the lion rock scenario two days earlier ( or was it three? ...It all becomes a bit of a blur.. time becomes insignificant when there's always another adventure looming). The final stint of the loop saw more and more people heading into the fray. Streams of them. Thousands..well hundreds at least. Why? Because it was the locals holidays. They'd all come up from Colombo to escape the heat (good plan) and then on the last day of the holidays they all flock to the park - great idea if your the only one who had it. Bad one if the entire city is on board. So this is where we were exceptionally pleased we'd got up so early. The queues at the ticket counter were huge, the traffic jams all the way down the mountain extraordinary. If all these people got into the park and tried the walk they'd be stuffed. Mostly so because the inevitable rain would be making the passage impassable. The views not worth the effort. Yet still their money would be collected at the gate and none of it put into infrastructure to help their passage through the place. We all agreeingly laughed with our commedian guide who pointed out that locals only ever come the park once in their lives. The reasons are now obvious. And so feeling so much superior we headed back through the now busy windy roads, soaking in the ambiance of the eucalyptus plantations (yep Mountain Ash - put there for railway sleepers and general timber products) and dairy farms. Lookes just like home in South Gippy. Only difference is having a traffic jam because the local tourists are happy to block the road in order to get a selfie with a New Zealand diary cow in the background. Ahh... the sweet sounds of angst in a foreign countryside ... It doesn't get better than this. We got back to our celubrious rooms before lunch and had the perfectly warranted kip in the middle of the day (Spanish style siesta without the stifling heat) and then a dip in the resort pool.

As expected, the locals were tilling their land whilst we half naked overlords hung on the edge of the infinity pool overlooking their toiling. A mere distance of 20 meters, yet world's apart. Next step on the days agenda was a tea factory. We felt the need to do this as we were in tea country and if we didn't get that bit of local culture we'd be missing out on something significant.

And right we were. Our Tea Cultivator guide (yes he has his own acerage in his village) guided us around the edge local town holiday festivities to a local tea factory which was established in the mid 1800's by the Poms. The time we spent was perfect. Got to taste the best of their black tea. Did a quick tour of their (production stopped - due the public holiday...have I mentioned it's holidays here?) production facilities whilst the impending rain loomed larger and blacker in the skies above. Once again it held off to suit our personal needs. BTW..Just did a quick search .... If we had a God looking after our "spot on" rain timing needs it would be Indra.

Could be correct in this case as the workers tied to (aka work on, live in, grow families etc.) the plantation come from that background. The tea was nice so we got some. As well as some cool pics depicting the tea culture. It would appear not much has changed since the mid '50s when they industrialised the processing. If you're on a good thing...stick to it I guess - especially if labour costs are the same. Back to the room for well earned apertif's for a couple of hours (yes folks - it takes that long every day to construct this spiel) it was off to the aforementioned anticipated buffet dinner. Non-blogger secured the best seat in the house (great skills) and we indulged accordingly.

This time the wine cost was understood before commitment and thus the whole experience was fabulous.