[The following post is from the archives of my In Search Of Incredible blog, originally published on 12 August 2012. Minor edits have since been made from the original post to update some links and info.]

 

11 March 2012, Saturday: Dalhousie – Hatton – Haputale

After less than four hours of sleep, we woke up at 2am and got ready for our climb up Adam’s Peak. We were a little groggy but excited at the same time. We met up with CR and VT and set off at 2:20am, walking along the main road and following the crowd towards the base of Adam’s Peak. Besides throngs of locals, there were also many travellers attempting the climb. We saw a few familiar faces from our train and bus the day before – they were staying at other guest houses.

It was quite chilly, maybe around 15 degrees Celcius. I had my yellow Columbia jacket on, and also carried my Osprey daypack, which contained my water bag (with tube) and some snacks in case we got hungry. Despite the late hour, there was a carnival-like atmosphere around, with all the shops open and lights on. We also passed a bonfire of sorts. After about 15 minutes, we reached the base of Adam’s Peak. CR and VT had arranged to meet some other travellers there so we waited for a while. However, they didn’t show up, so we decided to proceed without them.

Not long after, we reached the entrance where there was a separate queue for foreigners. A couple of monks were present, and it was sort of implied that we should make a donation. I donated Rs 200 (S$2.26), and wrote my name in the register. One of the monks tied a clump of white strings on my right wrist, as a form of blessing. I ended up keeping it on for the whole trip and even after I returned to Singapore, when it dropped off by itself one night, some two months later.

According to Lonely Planet, the ascent to the peak should comfortably take around three hours, so we were very confident of making it in time for the sunrise. For the initial stage, the steps were regular and spaced far apart so it was quite manageable. But we tried to make good time, so I started to perspire after about 15 minutes and promptly removed my jacket.

As we progressed, the steps became denser and more uneven – some steps were up to 50cm high, so it took more effort to continue climbing at our initial pace. We stopped several times at the rest stops to catch our breaths and to rehydrate ourselves. There were many food stalls but we weren’t very hungry so we didn’t buy anything.

We were progressing fine until about 4:30am, when the path just narrowed drastically, resulting in a human traffic jam. At first, we thought there was some sort of checkpoint ahead, resulting in the hold up. But the queue slowed down to a trickle and we were literally just inching forward, step by step. We realised there was no checkpoint, it was just a traffic jam due to the narrow pathway and huge crowd. We stayed patient and moved slowly, still hopeful that we would be able to make it in time.

However, it later became apparent that we would not reach the peak before sunrise, at the current rate we were moving. At around 6am, we decided it was time for drastic action. We followed some of the locals’ cue and climbed over the railings onto the slope that was filled with bushes and trees. From there, we climbed up, occasionally using our hands to hold on to tree branches to pull ourselves upwards and forwards. CR and VT decided to stay in the queue so it was just YS and I doing it the “gangster” way. Using this “expressway”, we cut the queue and made some progress, but it came to a point where there was no more grass slope left, only rock surface. It was quite steep and we felt it was too risky to continue that way, so we climbed over the railings to rejoin the queue.

Here, a railing separated the stair path into two – one side which we were queuing on, and the other side which was empty except for some people coming down. YS and I debated whether we should cross over to the empty side and walk up. But everyone else was queuing up on our side and it would seem like we were blatantly cutting the queue if we went up the other side. We were not sure if we would be mobbed for doing that. No one else seemed to be doing it, and we didn’t dare ask anyone too, so we just stayed in line and moved pitifully slowly.

(Only much later after we had descended did we realise that the locals were staying in line because they were queuing to enter the temple at the peak – for them it was a pilgrimage, but for us, we only wanted to reach the peak to see the sunrise. It wouldn’t have mattered if we were not able to enter the temple. So we could have just taken the clear path up to the peak and not enter the temple. We were also unfortunate to make the climb on a Saturday night, and apparently it was a public holiday as well, so that made the crowds doubly more unbearable.)

By 7am, we decided to throw in the towel. The queue was practically stationary so we would never make it to the top, and the sun was already rising over the horizon. Nevertheless, it was a fantastic sight to behold, to see the wide expanse of land being illuminated, the dawn of a new day. The view was stupendous. Undoubtedly part of it was due to the effort involved in getting there. I think we completed about 4,500 of the 5,200 steps. YS was bummed not to reach the peak, it felt like mission unaccomplished. But we needed to get back to catch the train to Haputale, so we decided not to linger and turn back instead.

Going down felt harder than climbing up. By then, we were tired and quite demoralised. It was also harder to gauge the height of the steps, which were steep and uneven. And it was more painful on the knees too. With the sun up, it got hot very quickly. From my previous experiences of participating in Vertical Marathons, I know I’ll rather run a marathon than to climb stairs!

Halfway down, we met an elderly French lady whom we recognised as also staying at our Slightly Chilled Guest House. She was accompanied by a local guide that she had hired, and he steadied her as she climbed down the stairs. She told us that the guide had led her up to the peak via a secret shortcut, avoiding all the crowds. She saw only around six or seven travellers up there, the rest were all locals. And all these six or seven of them had hired guides. She managed to reach the peak way before sunrise and showed us a photo she took of the mysterious triangular shadow, so envious!

At that point, we were feeling “Dang, we should have hired a guide too!” And it wasn’t that expensive, only Rs 1,500 (S$16,95), which would have been well worth the money. But we didn’t come across any guides who advertised their services. And our guest house didn’t hard sell us either, even though it was obvious we were at Dalhousie for the sole purpose of climbing Adam’s Peak. Sigh, lesson learnt. So if anyone is attempting to climb Adam’s Peak in future, do hire a guide!

Back to the French lady, she is 63 years old and she did the climb by herself (with the guide) while her husband was back at the guest house sleeping. And she still looked sprightly and energetic after the arduous climb…respect! She’s more than twice my age. I wonder if I can even do it when I’m 50, let alone 63. Amazing.

As we continued our descent, we spotted a tea plantation and decided to check it out. After taking some pics, we continued along the path as there were many locals heading that way. It was a different route from the one we had come up from, but we were confident that it would lead us back to the same place. We walked and walked and it felt like a longer way back. By this time, I was very tired and hungry, and a little grumpy. After what seemed like ages, we finally reached the exit and I was so glad to be finally back at our guesthouse at 8:50am.

We quickly put down out stuff and went up to the restaurant to have breakfast. After seven hours of physical exertion, the food tasted especially good. We spotted the French lady again, and we continued talking to her, once again feeling the pangs of regret of not hiring a guide. We also saw CR and VT, and they told us that they had turned back quite early. They had already finished breakfast and were about to leave to catch the earlier bus and train to Ella, so we said our goodbyes.

After breakfast, we went back to our rooms to take a well-deserved shower. We hung around till 11:30am and checked out of Slightly Chilled Guest House. We walked to the bus terminal and caught the 12pm bus back to Hatton train station. This time round, we managed to get seats, thankfully. YS was so tired that he dozed off on the bus.

The lovely thing about Sri Lankans is that they will give up their seats and offer them to foreigners, especially if they see that you’re carrying a big bag. If an adult is travelling with a kid, he/she will put the kid on the lap, so as to free up the seat for you. I don’t think any Singaporeans will be as gracious as that.

The bus ride was as rocky as before, but it felt much less tiring as we were seated this time. Along the way, it picked up several locals and children from the nearby villages. The bus was so packed that the bus conductor was standing on the steps. There was also no more space on the overhead racks to store bags, so one of the locals passed me his haversack and asked me to help him carry it on my lap, while he stood. It’s quite a common practice to do so. Taking the bus is a really local experience and I really enjoyed it.  I’m glad I did that instead of hiring a taxi.

On the bus, I saw a foreign lady who was travelling alone, and she also got off at Hatton train station. All our bags were stacked at the front of the bus, so I helped her retrieve her bag. Just like us, she proceeded to the ticket booth to buy a train ticket, so I struck up a conversation with her while standing in line waiting for the booth to open.

Her name is VP and she’s a Brit working at a de-mining organisation in Congo. She goes to the field with her team to remove landmines and also to educate the locals. It’s a really interesting occupation. She was travelling alone because she had a break from work, and just decided on Sri Lanka because she had heard how beautiful it is over there.

After getting our tickets, we had some time to spare so we headed to the café at the train station for some food and drinks. I bought a packet of curry rice wrapped in banana leaf (like our Nasi Lemak) which cost only Rs 150 (S$1.695) and it was really tasty. The three of us had a very enjoyable conversation and we chatted all the way till it was time to board the train.

We departed Hatton at 2:50pm. It was a full house again so we didn’t manage to get a seat for all three of us. VP got a seat eventually, while YS and I decided to sit on the floor at the exit. It was really fun because there are no barriers at the exit so you get an unobstructed view of the scenery outside. You can even do it like the locals and hang on by the step as the train zooms by, which is dangerous of course, but fun.

As we were fully in the Hill Country now, we passed by countless tea plantations along the way, covering stretches of hills as far as the eye can see. They don’t call it Hill Country for nothing. The scenery from Hatton to Haputale was spectacular, much better than the previous day from Kandy to Hatton, which was mostly jungle vegetation. Taking the train is also a quintessentially local activity and it’s a cheap way to get around. It’s one of the highlights of my trip.

At 5:35pm, we finally arrived at the small town of Haputale. VP was continuing her journey to Ella so we said our goodbyes. It had been a pleasure meeting her. We spotted our driver from the accommodation I had booked, and hopped on his tuk tuk for the short journey to Sri Lak View Holiday Inn. Surprisingly, the entrance to the guest house was located at some back lane of a row of dilapidated local shops.

Sri Lak View Holiday Inn
www.srilakviewholidayinn.com [Update: As of 3 October 2017, the website is no longer working]
Address: A.W.Arther Sirisena Mw, Haputale

The guest house itself was pretty alright. It felt very much like a homestay, with our room just beside the living room and dining area. The room was quite comfortable, though the TV set was inexplicably mounted on the wall above our bed where our heads would be, instead of facing us. Perhaps that was the only position for good reception.

The view from our window showed a stretch of green hills, though we could see the roofs of some old buildings in front of us. As Haputale is 4,000 feet above sea level, the climate is quite cool and air-con is not needed. Shortly after we opened the window, a blanket of fog started to roll in, obscuring our view.

As it was getting late, we decided to take a short walk before it got too dark, to see what Haputale had in store. Turns out, there wasn’t much. It is a very quiet town with virtually no tourists. Most travellers head to the nearby Nuwara Eliya or Ella instead. I only chose to stay at Haputale because it is quite near Horton Plains. Given the chance again, I will stay at Nuwara Eliya instead. So Haputale turned out to be quite disappointing. The only good thing is that we didn’t spend much time there, since there was nothing to do anyway.

So we headed back to the guest house and took a shower before having dinner, which took a long time to be ready. It was Indian cuisine and quite appetising. As always, we were hungry so we had a good dinner to end off our long day.

We also made arrangements with the driver for our following day’s visit to Horton Plains National Park. After some negotiation, we settled for Rs 10,000 (S$113) to hire the driver and his van for a whole day out the following day, including sending us to Ella. With everything all settled, we went to bed early at 10pm, snoozing comfortably after a long and tiring day of physical exertion.