A Bay is also famous for its waves. Really big waves. They hold a few international surfing competitions here throughout the year, and it only took one afternoon down on the beach to see why. Consequently, most swimmers crowd in one area near the curve of the bay, the calmest spot where you can enjoy the rolling waves before they crash with an unforgiving ferocity onto the sand. After dumping our bags in our air conditioned room at Fly Moon Guesthouse, we followed the narrow road about 20 metres to where the sand and sea began. It was a beautiful day, warm and sunny and the palms offered a tiny amount of shade. The sand was scorching and forced us into the water almost immediately. The waves were a little too big and the current too strong for me to venture far out, so I opted to watch Daniel swim from the shoreline, jealous of his fish-like fluidity and confidence.

We spent the next couple of days lazing around on deck chairs (when I say lazing I really mean working on freelance projects), eating our body weight in Kottu and sipping on freshly brewed cappuccinos at Hideaway Blue. This place was really in a league of its own - we haven’t encountered anything like it since leaving home. Swing chairs, coffee machines, picnic tables, fresh bread, tree houses, organic salads and delicious smoothies - all under the shade of tropical trees and brightly painted walls. It all comes at a cost though, it was crowded full of hipsters - also in numbers I haven't encountered since leaving home. When we didn't feel like paying half our daily budget on one meal, we opted for the more local joints, Why Not cafe being a little highlight. Late one evening we sat at a wooden dining table out on the beach with the sand between our toes. We shared a delicious rice and curry assortment, and our go-to Sri Lankan beverage - a left over from English colonial times - Elephant ginger beer

One afternoon I went for a walk, aiming to cover the entire stretch of the bay right around the point. It had been an overcast day, drizzly and grey, but the afternoon sun had broken through and it seemed everyone was down at the beach. Swarms of dragonflies circled overhead as I made my way around the shore. As I got to the point, I noticed a lot of people with video camera equipment and extra long lenses - the kind that seem excessive anywhere outside the professional sports arena. But, it seemed there was some sort of professional out on the waves, and a small crowd was building on the dunes to watch. I decided to join in and watch these fearless guys and girls as they floated in their own kind of swarm, waiting patiently for the next big hit. They didn't have to wait long, wave after giant wave came rolling in. It was awesome to watch, they seemed to gather crazy speeds and rise up over the wave in complete control, before sweeping back down in a sleek curve only to rise again, pushing closer and closer to the shoreline. I sat there for over an hour before the sun started to set and my belly started to growl. I bumped into Daniel on my walk back, happy to see him all dressed up in his Hawaiian shirt and shorts. From here on in we really begin to settle into this place.

It also helped that I happened to make another feline friend on the street of our guesthouse. Her name was Michelle and she was lovely. I heard her cries from under a fence and it didn't take long before she was perched on my lap, purring away happily. I sat with her for about an hour, Daniel lost his patience after about 10 minutes and decided to wait for me inside. I looked for her every night after this, but I unfortunately didn't get to pet little Michelle again - the last I saw of her was a black and white blur, flashing past, hotly pursued by a much larger dog. I wasn't worried though, Michelle is smart - much smarter than any old street dog.

It was on our third night that we discovered Chilé Italian restaurant. We entered from the main road, which I wouldn't recommend - it felt like we were walking into a deserted building site. But once around a few twists and turns, the space opened into a green garden, speckled with fairy lights, a giant pizza oven taking pride of place in the corner. It was a really relaxed place, the local guys even welcoming us into the kitchen to cook our own pizzas. With a grin, we declined, opting to sit on the lounges playing with a puppy who had recently been adopted by the crew. The food was delicious, the ginger beer was cold and the cricket was on tv, it's safe to say Daniel was content.

The next morning signalled our last day, it had come around way too quickly and I quietly cursed myself for not allowing more time here. We decided to spend the entire day on the beach and the weather really showed up for the occasion. Instead of parting with $40 for a surf lesson, we decided to hire a board and give it a go ourselves - only after watching a ‘how-to’ YouTube video. The guy made it look incredibly easy. His American accent selling it to us in 5 easy steps. Daniel was the first to try. He waded into the sea, joining a thousand other beginners, each trying desperately not to run over the top of another in the event that they managed to stand up on the giant foam boards. I watched from the side, camera in hand, ready to catch his first ride. I must have looked the part as a mum excitedly asked which kid was mine. An hour wasn't long enough, so after some lunch, we hired another board for the remainder of the day. I decided to float around on the board, not even attempting the stand or catch any sort of movement. It does look really fun though… maybe when I get home I might go for some lessons. Daniel came back in after a few hours, tired, bruised and blistered from the board - it was time to call it a day.

The next morning we waited on the roadside for a local bus to the mountain town of Ella, although we both felt a pang of sadness, not quite ready to leave the east coast shore.