Sigiriya, Sri Lanka - August 2024
Few things enchant me more than a sunrise or sunset.
That time we were in Sri Lanka in the Sigiriya area, known for the 200-metre-high rock-fortress that was the palace of King Kashyapa from 477 to 495 AD. This absurd place, a Unesco World Heritage Site for its gardens, frescoes and architectural details, completely dominates the forest and was chosen by the king to defend himself against potential attacks from his brother - the real heir to the throne. Undoubtedly a family drama that marked history, but that is not what I want to talk about.
In those days, our accommodation was itself surrounded by forest. As soon as we arrived, we shed our backpacks and the manager showed us a route that we would only enjoy the following morning. At 5.45 a.m., in fact, we walked towards a boulder that stood not far from the accommodation and supported a pylon. When we got to the top, we sat in religious silence and gasped at the beauty before us: the sun still hidden would appear behind the rock-fortress in the next half hour, the forest, birds and crickets, a statue of Buddha behind us, total peace.
And that's not all. On the same day, we climbed both the royal palace and the Pidurangala rock - lower and less known than the other, but rougher and wilder on the way to the top. Once up, the view was unbelievable: in front of us the Lion Rock in all its beauty, the forest, the surrounding villages, and even the Buddha statue that had watched the sunrise with us. Totally unconcerned about the weather, we lounged in the sun so as not to feel the gusts of wind too much and took in the view until sunset, in the company of a cute little dog and a few other visitors.
Just as the sky was beginning to turn half orange and half dark, there were a few drops of rain. From the moment the sun disappears you usually have a few minutes before everything goes pitch black: they advise you to arm yourself with torches and move a little earlier to avoid traffic jams. Having seen many people move away at the first drops, we waited a while before heading for the final magical crossroads of rocks that must be climbed. It was of little use, but it was still a surreal episode to see newborn children being lowered along the route with locals scrambling to help, and other arrogant tourists complaining and doing everything they could to get over and down faster. For the umpteenth time I asked myself, when did we forget that we are human?
Vale
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