colombo: sweat, tuk-tuks, and the numbers that haunted me

i landed in colombo after a red-eye from dubai, my brain still stuck on airplane mode. the heat hit me like a wet towel the second i stepped out of bandaranaike international airport. humidity's sitting at a solid 80%, temperature's 25.5°c but it feels like 26.2°c because the air's thick enough to chew. i just checked my weather app and it's... exactly what you'd expect for a tropical nightmare (kidding, it's lovely if you enjoy sweating through your shirt by 9am). my shirt was already plastered to my back before i even found a taxi. i tried to pretend i was a local, but the sweat stains gave me away.

i made my way to the city center and as i stared at the chaos of tuk-tuks, buses, and pedestrians spilling onto the road, i thought about my old corporate life. back then, i'd be in a climate-controlled conference room discussing 'leveraging synergies' while sipping overpriced coffee. now i'm trying to figure out if the driver of this *rickshaw is going to actually turn on the meter or quote a random number that somehow becomes a 'special tourist price'. the city doesn't care about my pti certifications; it just is.

i should probably show you where i'm talking about. here's a snapshot of the area i've been wandering:

the map looks neat, but the reality is anything but. every street is a new puzzle. i've learned to follow my nose more than any map. speaking of noses, the smell of spice and coconut oil is everywhere, mixing with exhaust fumes in a way that's both intoxicating and nauseating.

food here is a minefield i'm happy to wander. i found a spot called 'maalai' that serves the best kottu roti i've ever shoved in my mouth. according to TripAdvisor, it's #3 on their list, but i'm pretty sure the guy who wrote the review was related to the owner. i also heard from a local that the real gem is a stall near the fort railway station that only opens after 10pm. i haven't found it yet, but i'm keepin' an eye out. here's a pic of some street food i bravely ate:

next to the market, there's this old buddhist temple that somehow survived the Colombo traffic. it's a quiet oasis with monks chanting while motorbikes roar outside. i spent an hour there just trying to calm my overstimulated brain. a local told me that the temple's relic is actually a piece of the buddha's tooth, but my friend who's a history nerd says that's a myth propagated by tour guides. i don't know what to believe anymore. here's a view from the temple courtyard:

now, about those numbers. my hostel booking confirmation was 1236854 - i wrote it on my hand so i wouldn't forget. then, the wifi password turned out to be 1144646065, which is so long i had to set a reminder. i've started seeing those numbers everywhere: on bus tickets, in dreams, as the amount i owe on my credit card (joking... mostly). it's like colombo is trying to send me a message, but my consultant brain can't decode it. maybe it's a code to unlock the city's true vibe.

i've also overheard some interesting gossip. someone told me that the famous 'gangaramaya temple' is actually built on a swamp and it sinks a little every year. i have no idea if that's true, but it makes for a great story. a bartender at a rooftop bar claimed that the best mango juice is from a guy on dehiwala road, but the yelp reviews are mixed: Yelp says it's 'overrated'. you can't trust anyone these days.

if the concrete jungle gets too much, Galle's just a quick train ride down the coast. i keep meaning to go, but i'm too busy getting lost in colombo's alleys. the train chugs along the ocean, and i've heard the views are worth the three-hour journey. maybe next week.

here's the view from the train i mentioned (taken by someone else, obviously):

i've been compiling a mental list of things i love and hate about this place. love: the friendliness of strangers who call me 'machan' and try to sell me gemstones. hate: the constant feeling that i'm about to melt into a puddle. i should probably also mention that i've been using this local forum, colombo.lk, to get tips from residents. they're brutally honest, which i appreciate. colombo.lk is a rabbit hole of discussions about traffic, politics, and where to find the best short eats.

i'm trying to embrace the mess. as a former consultant, i used to structure my day down to the minute. now i just wander and see what sticks. sometimes i end up at a random tea shop listening to old men play cards. other times i'm stuck in a traffic jam breathing in smoke. that's the vibe.

anyway, i'm going to sign off before i start rambling about the time i accidentally joined a wedding procession. (yeah, that happened.) if you ever find yourself in colombo, throw your itinerary out the window. get lost. eat something that looks questionable. and if a guy on a scooter offers you a ride, check the number plate first - you might just get a story out of it.

oh, and bring a towel*. not for the beach, for your face. humidity's no joke.