The rainy, chilly Ella we fell asleep in was not the bright, sunny Ella was woke up to. We took our morning tea and breakfast on the owner's little terrace, and were nearly blinded by the rising sun. Now I can see why so many people call Ella a paradise (note: for whatever reason, I spelled that "parasite." No offense, Ella). We were considering staying another day, but that would have required us to actually hike one of those hills, and Denise Doesn't Hike (unless there is a free bottle of wine involved, but this is not the cloud forest of Panama, nor is there any booze in this town).

I must admit we were dreading the travel day today. We've done a lot of longer bus rides to see as much of the country as possible, and today's haul from Ella to the southern beach coast was going to be 5 hours on a public bus. And, there is only ONE direct bus per day, passing through Ella at 8:45am sharp. However. All the other buses we've taken have been boarded at the route's origin, meaning we got seats and were fairly comfortable. This bus was driving by Ella from the major town of Nuwara Eliya, so our standing in the aisles for 5 hours was looking probable. Add to that: today is "poya," the monthly religious holiday to coincide with the full moon. So, locals have a bank holiday and are heading to the coast. In short: The Joneses were screwed.

We walked out to the bus stop at 8:30am and immediately noticed a LARGE queue of people already waiting. We also noticed a few van drivers for hire loitering near the stop. Now, while the 5-hour public bus is a mere $2 USD per person, these vans took only 3 hours...but cost $50 USD. And I am a coldhearted cheapskate, so this was not an option. However, Matt suggested we recruit another couple and split the cost of the van. Score! This cheapskate will drop $25 USD to have a cushy seat, a speedy ride, and possible interesting companionship. So, taking advantage of appearing to be a small, harmless woman (note I said "appearing to be"), I scoped out the line of travelers, and selected a mother and daughter pair, and asked if they'd like to subsidize our trip (note: I didn't say that. I was very nice). Not only did they jump at the chance, but they were both from London! We had a wonderful few hours chatting in the van about life in London and our Sri Lanka travels, so really I consider that $25 USD both transport AND entertainment, plus we hope to go out for a pint when we're all back home.

We arrived in Tangalle around noon, which is the gateway town to Sri Lanka's southern beach coast. This is where the Christmas Day tsunami of 2004 hit, killing over 40,000 Sri Lankans. What's weird is that you'd never know it happened- guesthouses and homes were built right back up. But if you look closely, you'll see that much of the concrete stairways leading from the roads to the beach are gone, and most new building is set much farther back from the ocean. It am constantly amazed by the indomitable spirit of people in some of the developing countries we've visited.

We immediately headed out for lunch at a ramshackle cafe on the beach, where we had kottu roti and PRAISE JEEBUS, beer. We played in the surf while we waited for our food, and I must say the Indian Ocean is my favorite ocean. Cerulean blue and warm as bathwater. And after lunch, we hit the beach- the surf is a bit rough, and I walked away with several bloody wounds from being tossed onto the shell-strewn sand. But worth it.

There isn't much to do in Tangalle once the sun goes down- like everywhere else we've been in Sri Lanka, there's this bizarre juxtaposition between the transport being packed to the gills, and the towns and guesthouses themselves being ghostly empty once we arrive. So we took a private, silent, full-moon-lit walk on the beach, and found a fisherman's home whose wife cooked us up some freshly caught calamari for dinner.

We haven't quite figured out tomorrow- we plan to continue heading west up the shoreline, in search of more beaches and beer.