The early morning train takes us to Polonnaruwa, in the center of the island. It’s a long and bumpy ride on tracks in poor condition, sometimes we actually fear that the train will jump off the tracks. But after twelve hours we arrive in the town most famous for its temple ruins.
When we enter our small hotel our legs shake and our bellies roar in rebellion. We were probably infected by a fruit vendor on the train who sold us some juicy mango when we were extremely thirsty. But he cut the fruits with a disgustingly dirty knife. For me its just one visit to the toilet and then I’m ok.