No Fixed Abode: L’ascesion du Roc D’Ella

Fri 28 Apr 2016 - Ella Rock

We had planned an early start for the day so we could leave for the climb of Ella rock before it became too hot. Glenn awoke at 0500 and went down to the open air dining area to watch the sunrise but when he returned to wake Yvonne he found her suffering with a tummy upset. She told him to go by himself then rolled over and went back to sleep so this blog is written from his perspective..

I ate breakfast then went to reception to meet the owner as agreed yesterday. Seeing it was just me she despatched one of her male employees to show me the way and we walked off to the end of the drive and immediately joined a dirt track that contoured around the hillside. After a couple of hundred metres we found a set of concrete steps and the lad directed me to go up this flight, then another and at the top turn left onto the railway track. That was it. Some help!

I followed the instructions and within a short while walking down the railway track I met a skinny elderly man in flip flops and sarong who asked where I was going. As soon as I said “Ella Rock” the man about turned and set off at an alarming pace indicating I should follow. Before long he dived off the railway down a steep muddy path through some fields, all the while maintaining his metronomical pace, while I slipped and stumbled behind trying my hardest to keep up. We continued through fields, along water culverts, down paths, up paths until eventually we crossed beneath the railway and came to a rough bridge over a stream at the top of Ella falls.

I stopped for a couple of photos then hurried to catch up with the old guy who was starting to resemble a Terminator with his relentless robotic pace. By now we had reached the base of the final climb to the summit of Ella Rock itself and I was desperately trying to remember each turn so I could reverse the journey for my return.With just the last few hundred metres to go the guy stopped, picked up a stick and scratched 4000 in the dirt, by way of indicating his fee for acting as a guide. In return I turned my pockets inside out to indicate that I had no money. There followed a bizarre impasse with the guy pointing to his number and me standing with my inverted pockets shrugging my shoulders. At last the guy pointed up the hill, said ‘Ella Rock’ then about turned and left. It seemed a strange negotiating strategy to deliver 90% of his service before discussing a price, let alone establishing whether the customer has the means to pay.

Fortunately the path was well defined and I was soon at the top of the rock, sweating profusely and admiring the views. After taking a few pictures, drinking plenty of water and pondering my descent I was joined by a French couple, Pierre and Lydie, and we were soon engrossed in conversation about the climb, the view and the route up. Before long we had established that we both lived (kind of) in the Alps, swapped email addresses and Yvonne and I had been invited round next time we were over. They also very kindly invited me to accompany them and their guide down.

Once back at the bridge over the falls we paid a quick visit to the home of their guide for a drink then returned to the falls for a shower. The water felt sooo good pummelling my body and cooled me down a treat. Once we’d all dried in the sun and redressed we set off along a path that brought us to the railway track and started to walk along it - much easier than the large drop and climb through the fields that the old guy had led me down earlier.

As we rounded a bend a loud hoot warned us of an approaching train and we took refuge on a concrete block as it slowly trundled past hauling several carriages of passengers behind. When it had passed we continued along the track for a while until we came to Pierre and Lydie’s turn. We agreed to have dinner together, with the hope that they could meet Yvonne, then said our farewells.

By now I had reached a part of the journey that I remembered and I was soon descending the concrete steps to return to the hotel where I found Yvonne still feeling delicate. With a reliable internet connection at my disposal I spent the rest of the afternoon catching up with travel plans, publishing several outstanding days of the blog and exchanging emails with Lydie regarding arrangements for dinner.

She and Pierre had booked onto a cookery lesson that started at 1600 and I was still wading through a large quote for a tour through Namibia I arranged to meet them for the eating part of the course. At the agreed time I checked on Yvonne, surrounded her with bottles of water then set off up the hill, which was much steeper and longer than I recalled from the tuk tuk ride down, negating the effects of the shower I taken before leaving. At the top of the hill I found the ‘main’ road I was to follow and stumbled along the uneven roadside dodging the traffic and trying to stay in the shade.

A lot further along the road than I was expecting I came to the restaurant Lydie had referred to in her email and spent an amusing few minutes try to establish where the cookery class was with a lady who spoke hardly any English. Eventually she directed me to a house down a lane across the road where I found Pierre, Lydie and Sarah, a Dutch girl who was staying at the their hotel, intently watching a Sri Lankan lady preparing a range of dishes while Pierre video’d and narrated so they could reproduce them at home. It seems this lesson was a ‘watch and learn’ rather the ‘hands on’ which we had enjoyed in Bangkok. When the meal was ready the four of us sat down on the porch and devoured the tasty meal while the local mosquitos devoured us.

As there was no dessert with the meal and we had all noticed a curd shop on the way we wandered back to the village centre in the failing light discussing our travels. The curd shop had just closed when we arrived so we strolled along the main street, which was lined with cafes and bars all illuminated with neon signs - another beautiful spot overtaken by mass tourism. We found a bar packed with western travellers, faces bathed in the soft illumination of their phone screens, and found our way to a quietish table at the back. With drinks and curd on the table we chatted about our countries and the teaching and speaking of foreign languages. As our energy levels fell we decided to retire and leave the youngsters to it - the time, 8:30pm!