The Sun House
After three days of space and zen at Amanwella, it was time to head to our next i-escape stop and back up into the hustle and bustle of the coastline around the walled city of Galle. Tooting tuk tuks, overflowing buses and smoking scooters are all in constant competition, while bustling fish markets, pineapple stalls and endless hoards of crows line the turquoise shoreline.
Just as we got right in the thick of things, exhaust fumes, colourful fabrics, plastic suitcases, fruit stalls and stray dogs vying for the eye’s attention, we took a sharp turn up a quiet residential street and suddenly all was calm. This is where The Sun House sits, overlooking the hubbub of Galle’s outskirts high up from its hilly perch. One of the oldest hotels in Galle, The Sun House is like an elegant home from colonial times, where Gin & Tonics are almost mandatory and white mosquito nets stir softly under the breeze of a fan. The odd bit of paint’s peeling, books on shelves are slightly faded and lotus flowers from the overhanging trees drift around in the pool and it doesn’t matter one bit. Not dissimilar to Ceylon Tea Trails, we again felt like we were staying with friends rather than in a hotel. The seven rooms are white-washed and homely with locally-sourced ayurvedic toothpaste, soaps and scrubs, the food was the best we had and the atmosphere is that of staying in a beautiful villa in a bygone era….
The best eggs in town….
On one of the two days at Sun House we hopped in a TukTuk and headed to the nearby beaches for an explore.
First stop was lunch at Why Beach, an Italian restaurant with rooms on the brightest patch of untouched turquoise sea. Once we were full of Calamari and pasta, we headed to Wijaya Beach, two minutes up the road. A favourite of expats and surfers, this little place is renowned for its tuna sashimi, freshly made pizzas and Arrack (the Sri Lankan local spirit) sundowners… We wallowed about in the shallow waters, watched the surfers ride the waves and ordered vats of juices as we watched the setting sun turn the sky red.
One thing I never, ever go on holiday without is my Hammamas towel. You’ve probably spotted it in previous posts as I’ve been carting mine around for a year or so now… More heavy duty than a sarong but not as bulky or slow to dry as a bobbly beach towel, I’d weirdly be kind of lost without it.
After the beach, we went back to Sun House, washed the salt out of our hair, had a quick cocktail as Dick’s Bar, a bit of an institution in Galle, before fish curry and sorbet on the terrace feeling a bit like Meryl Streep in Out of Africa by way of Sri Lanka.