Haputale to Ohiya to Horton Plains
Kilometres: 29.5 Elevation gain/loss: 1014m/352m
A long stretch of being alone, walking alone, dining alone, dealing alone, was finally broken when my friend Priyanjan and his son decided they just couldn't pass up a good hike and joined in for the walk up to Horton Plains.
Setting out in the morning from Haputale, we walked along two quite different routes to reach Ohiya, the tiny railroad stop below Horton Plains to the south. Head from the town on the road leading up and to the west, towards the stone-block Adisham Benedictine Monastery, a landmark building once the home of British tea-planters, and you will find a small footpath trail that starts just to the immediate left of the gate entrance. It winds through the Thangamale Forest Sanctuary, through eucalyptus groves and dense jungle. Some attention is required to follow the trail, which at times becomes thin and indistinct, but then picks up easily a few meters ahead. Fast burning fires have charred some of the area, not damaging the trees badly but blackening sections of earth and clearing out the undergrowth.
After about nine kilometres, the trail then emerges just above the rail tracks at Idalgashinna station. Signs along the railroad, antiques from colonial times, still warn (in dire tones) of the unforgiving punishment that awaits anyone who walks along the track. Of course, the track is used by all local villagers as the main footpath between Idalgashinna and Ohiya, and the slow moving trains that pass offer ample warning and little danger.
The weather began to close in on us, heavy fog clouds completely obscuring the view, then suddenly blowing apart to reveal a stunning panoramic view far out to the mountains in the north. We marched on following the tracks for a further nine kilometres, along an easy gradient, passing through some 15 railway tunnels. It pays to know the train schedules, as getting caught in a long dark tunnel, with a locomotive bearing down on you, can ruin a good day. The guano on the tracks, fluttering overhead, and constant clicking noises would lead you to think these tunnels are home to colonies of bats, but surprisingly it is hundreds of swallows nesting on the ceiling that are causing all the commotion.
By late morning we had comfortably reached Ohiya, a village consisting of almost nothing, just a tiny smattering of a few buildings, apart from the railway station. The only place to stay (yes! there is a place to stay!) was the infinitely depressing, Egads-no!, only-in-case-of-desperation Suwarna Lelee Rest & Cafe. Basic? This place is a whole new level of basic! Cold, dark, dirty and gloomy, the night here did not promise to be even remotely passable. That said, and to be fair, the owner whipped out a comments book, glowing with warm reviews of the kind hospitality and food, if not the amenities.
We decided the comfort of a house with washed sheets, hot water, and the luxury of eating off of clean plates was too good to pass up, so hopped the train back down the hill, returning to spend the night at Priyanjan's family home. At 4:00 a.m., like a moose creeping on tip-toe into the room, our friend Neranjana arrived, and the party was complete for the next day's trek onwards from Ohiya up to Horton Plains.
Catching the early morning train back to Ohiya, we continued upwards along the 11 kilometres to the center of the national park. The well-paved road, although steep in places, is a straightforward route and you'd have to make a serious effort to lose your way. As the road climbs, the trees of the forest around become shorter and denser, the temperatures dramatically drop and the wind picks up fiercely. Suddenly out came the fleeces, jackets, hats, gloves and umbrellas, as one by one we all succumbed to the cold.
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