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why I got angry at the whole Polonnaruwa tourist board: an amusing travel story

After waking up from a power nap induced by a delicious and abundant breakfast, I noticed the sun was at its peak.

“It is what it is,” I said to myself, preparing to head out.

While applying high UV-protection sunscreen and packing my bag with essentials, I contemplated my next destination: the ancient city of Polonnaruwa, the second capital of Buddhist Sri Lanka.

I hadn’t yet decided how I would explore the site—on foot, by motorbike, or by bicycle.

One thing I was certain of, though, was that I wouldn’t hire a guide.

I prefer exploring at my own pace, spending as much time as I want at the places I find interesting rather than being rushed. Although I might miss out on some information, the freedom to move at my own speed is worth it to me.

The option of walking was quickly dismissed due to the intense heat. Moreover, I was running extremely late and uncertain about the city’s size and what to expect. It simply wasn’t worth the risk.

Later on, my decision proved entirely correct; walking would have been impossible. The distances between various sites were too great, and I would have likely seen almost nothing. Even if I had, it would have been with tears in my eyes from suffering, of that I am as certain as I am that one day I will be gone.

So, motorbike or bicycle? That question lingered in my mind as I tried to get out of the apartment. On my way out, I met my kind hosts and had a quick chat with them. Bicycle it is, I decided after the conversation. And they had one to rent. Great!

Before I knew it, I was sitting on a nice, comfortable bike, with my small backpack on my back and a white scarf around my head, heading toward the entrance of the ancient city.

Luckily, I knew exactly where the entrance was. One day prior, when I arrived by bus, I had exited at the bus station right near the entrance. Fortunately, it wasn’t far away. I just had to leave the narrow street where í was located and reach the main avenue. Thereafter I would follow the main avenue and go straight, bike up a small hill, and turn right. There would be a small, concrete road leading slightly downward toward the city entrance.

AT THE ENTRANCE

staff at the entrance

finally ready to explore Polonnaruwa ancient city

I slowed down on the bike, approached the entrance, and asked for one adult foreigner ticket.

“Ma’am, you have to go to the Archaeological Museum in Polonnaruwa,” the employee said.

My eyes popped out like two ping-pong balls.

“It’s hot outside, man! What do you think? It’s 1:30 PM, I just biked up here, and I’m sweating like crazy. No, no, I don’t want to visit the Archaeological Museum. I’m here for the Polonnaruwa ancient city tour. Can I please buy a ticket?“

He stood his ground.

“Ma’am, we don’t sell tickets here. You have to go back to the Archaeological Museum and buy tickets there,” he gently insisted, as he had probably done hundreds of times before for unprepared tourists like myself.

I have to stop here for a moment and make an honest confession. I was not too fond of his answer at all as it left me angry and disappointed. Not only was I annoyed by him, but in that moment, I also got annoyed by his innocent coworker standing next to him, by his absent boss, and by the entire Polonnaruwa tourist board team.

After all, who do they think they are? Why aren’t they serving my needs as a tourist? What kind of organization is this?

I had to control myself to avoid snapping at him. After taking some time off, I realized it was all me and had no one to blame but myself. It was my responsibility to inform myself before coming here, but instead, I chose a nice, deep power nap that left me rushing.

Now, I had to accept the consequences and learn for the future!

“Where is the museum, sir?”

I asked, trying to make the best of the situation as I didn’t want to waste more time and wanted to return as soon as possible. He explained the way, and I realized it was right next to my host’s house, just a brief two-minute walk from where I was staying. I thanked him, got back on my bike, and cycled down the road to the museum.

Changing plans at the museum

magnificent ruins of the ancient Buddhist city

standing on the ruins of Polonnaruwa

I parked the bike, declined a few guides who approached me in hopes of making some business, and entered the building.

“Ooh, mmm, it feels so nice in here,” was the first thought that crossed my mind as the blast of cool, air-conditioned air touched my overheated body.

I didn’t even want to leave. Maybe there’s a nice exhibition here as well? I reflected on the situation as I made my way to the counter. It was fairly empty since it was quite late and not many other visitors were in attendance.

When it was my turn, I bought a ticket for $25 (if my memory serves me well) and asked for some information sheets. The lady handed me a few leaflets with a map of the ancient city and descriptions of the most important sites.

“Also, with this ticket, you get three different sub-tickets,” the kind lady explained. “Here is one ticket for this museum, one for entry into the ancient city of Polonnaruwa, and one entry ticket for Gal Vihara,” she said, showing me the three different sections on the ticket.

“Ooh, I get a 3-in-1? That sounds great!” I replied, already calculating how my plans would change yet again. There it was, a ticket for an exhibition in an air-conditioned museum in my hand! Needless to say, that I did not think twice! You know what I mean?

I threw my existing plans overboard and stamped the first of the three sub-tickets I had bought.

The Archaeological Museum Polonnaruwa, here I come – the ancient city – I’ll get back to you later!

With the event changing love 🌸

T.

P.S. Do you have an amusing travel story about that time, when your plans completely changed? If you have, let me and the community know!