Green delights of Sri Lanka

As my crowded bus raced from the airport towards Colombo, an auto-rickshaw appeared ahead through the night-time darkness.

• In pictures: A green getaway

From a distance, the swerving three-wheeler seemed to have a clutch of giant knives sticking out from either side of the passenger compartment.

At first I wondered if they were a rather drastic piece of self defence for the country's hectic roads.

As we drew nearer and blasted past the screaming auto-rickshaw, however, the blades revealed themselves to be far more benign: the tails of huge fish.

Somebody was clearly keen to have his catch out for sale on the dusty streets of Colombo before anyone else.

It was an early reminder - as if it wasn't obvious - that despite all the talk of tsunamis, for nearly everyone in Sri Lanka, life has continued as normal.

That was certainly the case on the west coast and central highland regions of the country that I visited, even though most tourists do not seem to have realised this and have stayed away.

Later that day, my sightseeing of Colombo began in earnest in another such auto-rickshaw - this one thankfully without any odourous fish filling up the seats - that I hired for an hour at Rupees 300 (Dh11).

Colombo had many reminders of Sri Lanka's eventful colonial history, which saw Portuguese, Dutch and British settlers all lay claim to the island.

The Fort area was perhaps the most impressive of these, although sadly much of it remained off limits thanks to military checkpoints designed to stifle terrorist bombers.

After criss-crossing the Fort, my auto-rickshaw headed south through some leafy streets and arrived at Sri Lanka's defiant response to all the colonial throwbacks: Independence Hall.

Students were relaxing with their books in the shade of this recreation of an audience hall, and by the side, a hawker with a cobra and a python was asking if anyone fancied having a snake wrapped around their necks.

I declined. Instead, there was plenty more fun with animals on offer at nearby Viharamahadevi Park, a leafy enclave where more youngsters were sheltering from the burning sun.

Here, I fed bread to the tied-up working elephant - its huge tusks had to be seen to be believed - and watched fruit bats (known locally as flying foxes) take to the air from their treetop roosts.

Less enjoyable was getting bitten by the giant red ants that nested in the bushes.

After trying to cool down with an ice cream near the seafront of Colombo's main drag, Galle Road - home to romantic young couples and street sellers with brightly-coloured plastic toys - I headed back north to Pettah, the bustling market area beside the Fort.

Pettah was cluttered and not always the cleanest of places, but it was full of life and a good place for shopping.

Even here in one of the busiest areas of the city, it still lacked the dust and crowds of India, which made for a slightly more relaxed visit.

However, as a white Westerner, both here and throughout the trip I was the subject of countless sales pitches, which could get annoying after a while and in the heat it was easy to become bad tempered.

After experiencing the delights of Colombo, I headed east to Kandy, a cultural centre which served as a good base for exploring many of the country's biggest attractions.

Although often considered Sri Lanka's only other city, Kandy was tiny compared to Colombo and its more laid-back nature came as a welcome relief after the hustle and bustle of the capital.

I checked into the Olde Empire Hotel, a delightful rambling old wood-panelled building with an upstairs terrace looking over Kandy's attractive lake.

The hotel was just a short walk from the city's most important draw: Sri Dalada Maligawa or the Temple of the Tooth.

This is reputed to house Sri Lanka's most important Buddhist relic, a tooth of the Buddha, but since the priceless gnasher itself was hidden from view, the adoring crowds that come to worship were as much of an attraction as anything else in the temple.

The next day, I headed by bus for the cave temples of Dambulla.

Here, for the first time I came across the country's frustrating dual pricing policy, which more often than not meant entry was free for Sri Lankans and way too expensive for everyone else.

It cost me Rupees 500 (Dh18.5) to enter the caves, which had Buddhas in all sorts of poses, while Sri Lankans walked past the guards with impunity.

The biggest Buddha of all was not in the caves. It was a 30-metre high golden statue recently built on top of the caves' museum.

Perhaps it would have been better to have spent the entrance fee money on repairing some of the crumbling 2,000-year-old Buddhas in the caves rather than on this rather tasteless creation.

Further north, and second bus ride away, is Sigiriya, another of Sri Lanka's ancient cities.

I was shocked by the Rupees 1,960 (Dh72.4) entrance fee for foreigners, which was more than twice the amount I paid for my most expensive night's accommodation in Sri Lanka.

Sigiriya had a rock fortress that rose from the tree-lined landscape.

It was a hot climb to the top but worth it for the stunning views of the lush forests. On the way up, I stopped off and laughed at the cheeky cave wall paintings.

An equally strong draw for tourists, or the few who have braved post-tsunami Sri Lanka, was Pinnewala Elephant Orphanage.

There were dozens of elephants here, most of them herded together conveniently for photographs.

Youngsters never seemed to stray far from the protection of their mother's trunk.

Tourists who asked nicely - and whipped out Rupees 100 notes - had their picture taken with one of the new arrivals.

After lunch, keepers took the elephants out of the orphanage, across the village road and down to the river for a bath.

Some of the biggest ones just rested on their sides in the water, little more than their trunks showing above the surface.

After heading back to Kandy, I reluctantly said goodbye to the Rupee 374-a-night Olde Empire Hotel and took a hair-raising bus ride further into the highlands.

The first thing I noticed about Nuwara Eliya was the climate: in contrast to the blazing, humid heat of my previous stop-offs, this summer resort, which sits at nearly 1,900 metres above sea level, could be slightly chilly in the evenings.

The one essential stop-off on a visit to Nuwara Eliya is the Pedro Tea Estate, a short auto-rickshaw ride away.

For just Rupees 50 (Dh2), a guide showed me how the various grades of tea (good quality for export, poorer quality for domestic consumption) were made from the fresh green leaves picked in the surrounding fields. And I was even given a cup of tea at the end.

Slightly further from Nuwara Eliya, but equally worth visiting, was World's End in the Horton's Plains National Park.

To make the best of it, I had to make an early start, because the spectacular 880-metre drop is best seen early in the m