Who is Mr. Bandulla?

Before we left Anaradhapura, I rang and booked ahead for a hotel at our next stop: Polonnaruwa. This is when Mr. Bandulla leapt into our lives.

Speaking to Mr. Bandulla on the phone about the booking, he arranged to come and pick us up from the bus station in the town and I was to call him when we were getting close. But he called us first. Then again, and again. Which led us to ask the question: who is Mr. Bandulla?

He rang once more, telling us he was ready and waiting at the Polonnaruwa bus station for us. He's keen, we thought. But things got even stranger as we stepped off the bus to be greeted by 2 people claiming to be Mr. Bandulla. Confusion ensued.

One of the gentlemen then changed his tact and focussed on telling us, very calmly, that the other chap was lying to us and that he wasn't the real Mr. Bandulla who owned the hotel - that was a different person altogether. The other man - with a roguish face - was still earnestly trying to prove he was the real Mr. Bandulla, waving his phone at me with my number on it and pulling out a faded and torn identity badge. Quite convincing. However, the other man was reassuring us that he was telling the truth, that we shouldn't go anywhere with this man and that we should just make our way to the hotel on foot.

'Mr. Bandulla', by this point, was getting exacerbated and his voice was raising and eyes

widening. I decided to ring the hotel and ask who was the real Mr. Bandulla. The confused woman on the phone suggested that if he wasn't there, we should walk to the hotel or take a tuk tuk.

I looked around in despair and my eyes fell on the line of tuk tuk drivers who were sat watching the entire 'Mr. Bandulla' performance. Bewildered by the past 8 minutes or so, I headed over to them and asked if they knew what was going on and could one of them take us to the hotel. They all looked over at the dueling men and one of them suggested we walk, and gave us directions.

And so walk we did, with 'Mr. Bandulla' hot on our heels - still waving his phone at us and telling us to believe him. As we neared the hotel, the owner's car drove to pick us up and confirmed that, yes, this was indeed the real Mr. Bandulla. This left us even more confused as a) why didn't Mr. Bandulla just call his sister, the hotel owner, or ask to speak to her when I rang and b) why was there a respectable looking man telling us not to go with Mr. Bandulla and to walk to our hotel. The answer lies in The Lonely Planet.

Mr. Bandulla is featured under the hotel's description in the guide and it seems that some of the locals are jealous of his new found fame - something he isn't particularly shy about. It seems his immodest pride has angered one or two men in the village, who are now trying to make life as difficult as possible for him. We did feel guilty for not believing him at the bus stop but, would you?

Mr. Bandulla was then glued to our sides for the next couple of days and called us constantly when he had to leave us to help other tourists. Really, it was very sweet but Mr. Bandulla did become a figure of hilarity during our trip. Wherever we turned, his cheeky face would be there to help us when we didn't even know we needed it!

Discovering it was my Dad's birthday, he promised to bring a cake and have a party for him - and he didn't let us down. In the pouring rain, he arrived at the hotel in his tuk tuk with an iced orange sponge cake an arranged candles on top in the shape of '53' (sorry, Dad). Naturally, recognising another way to make money from his tourists, he charged me double for the cake and candles but, because he was Mr. Bandulla, we forgave him.

What a character!

So, if you ever in Polonnaruwa...watch out, Mr Bandulla's about!