The plane ride to Colombo was less than desirable. I do like Malaysian Airlines but I gave up my window seat to a young boy who very politely asked. He then spent the next three hours hacking into my ear, moving around in his seat pressing buttons or climbing over me to relieve his tiny bladder. "Please sir may I go to the toilet." little Oliver would say, poking me gently. I thought his grandfather was next to me but he did not know who the child belonged to. The grandfather did; however, manage to f***ing spill his white wine on me at lunch. Not even a sorry. On the bright side the chicken curry was quite nice for airline food. Love those Malaysian Airline peanuts. I landed listening to German opera in full volume while the plane caste shadows on the dense jungle below. Welcome to Colombo, Sri Lanka.

Exiting the gate at Bandaranaike International Airport in Colombo, Sri Lanka was like walking into your local appliance store. Rather than the requisite perfume, alcohol and tobacco of most duty-free shops, the aisles at Bandaranaike were dominated by refrigerators, ovens and washing machines. People wheeled out refrigerators out on luggage charts like it was Sears or Best Buy. It must be tough to fit a washing machine into a tuk tuk.

To get to Kandy, Sri Lanka, by public bus one must first get to the Katunayake Bus Station near the airport. None of the airport taxi drivers wanted to take me there. All of them said, "No, you want to go to Colombo" so I bought a bottle of water for 150 rupees (about $1.20) and started walking in the heat of the Sir Lankan sun. As soon as I was on the main road a tuk tuk driver picked me up and for 200 rupees I was at the bus stop one km away.

I am glad I saved Sri Lanka for the latter half of the trip because by this time I had adjusted to the rhythm of travel. At the Katunayake bus station I had to accomplish two tasks: Call Benjamin Arumugam, my host, and find the bus to Kandy. Now there isn't much of a bus station in Katunayake, just an open air building with random buses pulling in and out and I had not been able to make a call on my cell phone since leaving Seattle, so it was a bit of a challenge to get going. Fortunately, a nice store clerk selling lottery tickets and newspapers helped me with both tasks. I was pointed toward an unmarked tree for the Kandy bus stop and he lent me his phone (for 40 rupees) to call Benjamin and report my arrival in Sri Lanka.

I waited by the tree/ bus stop and about fifteen minutes later a white bus marked Negombo - Kandy pulled up. As the bus moved toward the tree all the people around me ran toward the bus and clambered aboard. I followed with my luggage in tow and I got the last seat on a three person bench built for two. The price for the four plus hour trip to Kandy? 136 Rupees. Less than my bottle of water at the airport, less than my five minute tuk tuk ride to the bus station. About twenty minutes into the ride, I began to understand the true value of the Sri Lankan public bus system. We pulled into Gampaha to take on more passengers and soon the aisle was two thick with people and the ticket collector, or vendors selling cooked corn and lottery tickets, would have to squeeze up and down the aisle to collect their money. All of this was took place while the bus was weaved in and out of traffic with the presumed assumption that buses, bigger than tuk tuks, had direct right of way, even at times with the oncoming traffic. At the front of the bus, behind the driver, was a large poster lit with chasing lights of Lakshmi, the Hindu god of wealth and prosperity and above the windshield, a series of images, equally lit, depicting Ganesh, the God of the intellect and fitting enough, the remover of obstacles. I even said a little prayer after a few alarming close calls with oncoming cars, pedestrians or other, equally determined buses.

By the time we rolled into Kandy I was a crumpled mess of dirt and sweat, my lovely lavender button down shirt was greyed by exhaust and dirty seats. Benjamin greeted me by tuk tuk and whisked me up into the foothills surrounding Kandy. I liked him immediately. His skin was the color of roasted coffee. He was a nice looking guy, a bit round, with slightly receding jet black hair. He was quick to flash his brilliant white teeth every time he smiled, which was often. I had found Benjamin and his family on Couchsurfer.com. While I normally would be a bit reticent accepting accommodations in a complete stranger's home his reviews on Couchsurfer.com were glowing. He was the Couch Surfing ambassador of Sri Lanka. Like the brothels in Malaysia sometimes you need to take a little risk and jump into something different.