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Urubokka to Kaella to Panamure
Kilometers: 22 Elevation gain/loss: 375m/558m
Passing over from Urubokka, up the steep, pot-holed road that leads to Kaella and down again on the other side you would think you had crossed a much higher range of mountains or travelled much further. On one side, it's pissing down with rain and is the tropical green you'd expect. On the other side, it abruptly turns dry and brown, scrubby like the African bushland. The heat and sun were getting to me, so I was relieved to be met by my host for the night, the delightful Dan Diaz. Dan and Saman Ratnayake, a policeman in charge of safeguarding Sri Lanka's archeologial treasures, have, through a labour of love, overseen the building of a brand new, not-yet-in-any-guidebook monument to one of the country's beloved legends.
The famous story from 1950 tells of the Panamure elephant bull who, when his herd was captured by hundreds of men in a kraal (timber stockade), bravely fought to free himself and rescue the others, showing quite extraordinary determination. The cruel process of herding elephants into the kraal, tying, noosing and starving them to weakness, and eventually taming them for domestication had been commonplace for centuries, but this episode was to be the last. The unusually large bull, who was romantically involved with the herd matriarch, succeeded in breaking free and in his attempts to free his female, was shot and killed with a single bullet to the head. The news of this made its way into every newspaper of the day, his loyalty, spirit and courageousness leaving not a dry eye or untouched heart in the country. Public opinion ran high, agitation was widespread, and finally the Parliment declared the practice of elephant capture from that time onwards banned, ushering in a new and more humane chapter in Sri Lanka's human-wildlife relationship.
Head two kilometers due north from the tiny Panamure junction just outside Embilipitiya and you will come to the recently constructed monument honouring this story, complete with true-to-life sized elephant statue, an interesting little musuem housing displays and the actual skull of the bull, and a replica of the kind of kraal fencing used to pen the herd in.
Make sure to ask someone to show you the mineral-rich spring behind the museum, the lure that attracted the elephants to the site in the first place. Aparently, even in the worst drought the water lurks just beneath the surface of the soil and if you clap your hands, the spring will start to fountain forth out of the ground. Even on a day like the one I visited, with the nearby stream flowing and the spring full, you can clearly see the bubbling, rolling sands beneath the water churn all the more furiously with a sudden loud clap.
Worth a visit on your way back from Yala or Kataragama, for sure.
Urubokka to Kaella to Panamure
Kilometers: 22 Elevation gain/loss: 375m/558m
Passing over from Urubokka, up the steep, pot-holed road that leads to Kaella and down again on the other side you would think you had crossed a much higher range of mountains or travelled much further. On one side, it's pissing down with rain and is the tropical green you'd expect. On the other side, it abruptly turns dry and brown, scrubby like the African bushland. The heat and sun were getting to me, so I was relieved to be met by my host for the night, the delightful Dan Diaz. Dan and Saman Ratnayake, a policeman in charge of safeguarding Sri Lanka's archeologial treasures, have, through a labour of love, overseen the building of a brand new, not-yet-in-any-guidebook monument to one of the country's beloved legends.
The famous story from 1950 tells of the Panamure elephant bull who, when his herd was captured by hundreds of men in a kraal (timber stockade), bravely fought to free himself and rescue the others, showing quite extraordinary determination. The cruel process of herding elephants into the kraal, tying, noosing and starving them to weakness, and eventually taming them for domestication had been commonplace for centuries, but this episode was to be the last. The unusually large bull, who was romantically involved with the herd matriarch, succeeded in breaking free and in his attempts to free his female, was shot and killed with a single bullet to the head. The news of this made its way into every newspaper of the day, his loyalty, spirit and courageousness leaving not a dry eye or untouched heart in the country. Public opinion ran high, agitation was widespread, and finally the Parliment declared the practice of elephant capture from that time onwards banned, ushering in a new and more humane chapter in Sri Lanka's human-wildlife relationship.
Head two kilometers due north from the tiny Panamure junction just outside Embilipitiya and you will come to the recently constructed monument honouring this story, complete with true-to-life sized elephant statue, an interesting little musuem housing displays and the actual skull of the bull, and a replica of the kind of kraal fencing used to pen the herd in.
Make sure to ask someone to show you the mineral-rich spring behind the museum, the lure that attracted the elephants to the site in the first place. Aparently, even in the worst drought the water lurks just beneath the surface of the soil and if you clap your hands, the spring will start to fountain forth out of the ground. Even on a day like the one I visited, with the nearby stream flowing and the spring full, you can clearly see the bubbling, rolling sands beneath the water churn all the more furiously with a sudden loud clap.
Worth a visit on your way back from Yala or Kataragama, for sure.
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