By Richelle
Thursday 10th of August 2017
How anyone could conceive and create a royal city perched on the top of this giant rock is almost beyond imagination. It sits like a giant lego block, dropped onto the flat plains of the earth. It’s a highlight of the northern central province, but comes with an equally high price tag ($30 usd per person per visit) and an endless stream of tourists. We made our way to Sigiriya junction and sat at the bus stop ready to jump on when it came flying around the corner. We waited and waited - one bus sailed past, the driver refused to stop and the conductor glanced back with a smug smile. Daniel, offended, threw his hands in the air and sat down on the bench in a huff. It was only a few minutes later that a blacked out van approached us offering a lift and against all better judgement we jumped in. This was one of those risks that really paid off. Instead of being tied up, robbed and stolen, we met the nicest man. He had noticed us waiting in the heat and was headed in what he rightfully presumed was our direction to pick up his wealthy French clients. With cushy seats and pumping aircon, we chatted away happily before being delivered to the entrance of the complex. I have come to notice that this sort of kindness is not a rarity in Sri Lanka. The people here seem happy and full spirited.
Once inside, the rock really dominates the horizon. It has almost vertical sides, cut and worn smoothly like a giant piece of cake. We could see the snake of people clinging to the staircases up the side of the outcrop and it didn't take long to find the end of the line. I think it took about an hour to climb, I suppose 20 minutes with no crowds. People aside, it was well worth it. About half way up there is a sheltered gallery cut into the sheer rock face, where a collection of thin-waisted, stereotypically voluptuous women are painted in earthy tones. No one really knows just how old these beauties are which adds to their allure and intrigue. Further along is the ‘mirror wall’ which I am disappointed that I didn't have more time and space to appreciate - the crowds were pushy by this stage and we were shuffled along. I have read that the wall is inscribed with graffiti from the 6th-14th century. Most comment on the rock paintings aforementioned, an example, ‘The ladies who wear golden chains on their breasts beckon me. As I have seen the resplendent ladies, heaven appears to me as not good.’ So great!
We were just about at the top, when all hell broke loose and a stream of frenzied people started to pour from the top of the rock stairs. ‘Wasp attack, too dangerous, don't go up’ people yelled. We had seen the warning signs at the ticket counter down below, and had dwelt on how unfortunate that event would be after paying our daily budget to get up there! Daniel wasn't having any of it, and marched through the crowds, I followed. We got to the lion paw gateway to discover about 50 people locked in a first aid cage and several others standing around watching the swarm near the summit staircase. A few people had apparently been attacked and next to no one knew the appropriate procedure after a sting. Those caught at the top were chauffeured down in one-piece suits and sheltered under large nets. We talked to a guide who said that it takes about 7 stings to release the venom equivalent of a snake bite and potentially cause death. It was a little scary, but mostly frustrating, because gaudy and ignorant tourists continued to make excess noise and wear clothes and lipstick the colour of spring flowers. We really wanted to reach the summit, so we decided to wait it out and see if the smoke would send the swarm into retreat and allow us to climb the last little section. It took about half an hour before the first group was allowed up, we walked slowly and quietly, a few wasps still flew overhead. I actually think it was all a blessing in disguise because we were able to walk around the palace complex with next to no people, a seemingly rare occurrence. The terraced summit covers about 1.6 hectares and there is debate about whether it was in fact the royal fortified capital of King Kassapa or a vast Buddhist monastery/sanctuary for meditation, existing before and after Kassapas rule. Whatever it was in its heyday, it's ruins are incredibly beautiful.
We wandered back down, exploring some of the water gardens and caves surrounding the base of the rock. The sun was getting unbearably hot, and we took refuge in the museum, which was full of beautiful terracotta ‘souvenir’ sculptures and fragments of the cities history in flourishing commercial trade.
We had lunch at a little local hut, surrounded by a sleepy puppy and a tiny kitten before heading back to our guesthouse on the public bus, which have proved surprisingly simple to navigate. We didn't do much at all for a few hours while we awaited for an afternoon of safaris, elephants and thunderstorms.