The tears eventually dried up. The earth swallowed the weeping of the 2004 tsunami (38,000 dead and 100,000 homeless) and the civil war that claimed thousands of lives until 2009. Sri Lanka is smiling again and is opening up to tourism. Timidly but heart on hand. At the tip of India, the island unfolds its landscapes of degraded greens on dented reliefs: tea plantations, rice fields, tropical forests… Putting one foot in it means losing your bearings. Because here the worlds merge. In the temples, Vishnu, Shiva and Ganesh adjoin with Buddha and Catholic saints are revered by Hindus and vice versa. “I’m a Muslim but I went to Catholic school and studied Hinduism and Buddhism out of interest,” a 55-year-old white-bearded man tells me with a smile. It alone sums up the country’s religious syncretism.
Reality mixes with myths, legends and religions. Besides, isn’t the Lion’s Rock a dream? Aren’t the “Sigiriya Ladies” immortal? Probably. All round and topless, these 21 women (who would have been nearly 500) have passed through the ages since the 5th century when they were painted for the parricide king Kassyapa. You’ll have to sweat to get close to them. The colossal monolith, an ancient citadel, is revealed after a thousand steps – a small leg-up for the days to come. Brinquebalant, the last staircase is hardly engaging but the view, it, beautiful. From the top, a sea of forests and rice fields and this distant silence. The descent hugs the knees.
