ABSTRACT
In Madras I arranged to travel to Bangkok by freighter, but I had to catch it in Colombo, the main port for the Island of Ceylon, off the south coast of India. I flew there on a two-engine Viking, which bounced around a lot, and arrived about 4:30 in the afternoon to find Colombo hot and steamy, though it was February 26. Since I learned that I must wait about four days for the sailing of the French freighter Falaise, I booked in at an inexpensive hotel and began to learn a little about this former Dutch and then British colony, famous for its tea and rubber, and with a culture different from that of India because the Singhalese are Buddhists of the southern strand, which includes Burma, Thailand, and Bali. I wrote to the family after two days in Colombo:
This is a funny town. You can hardly step out of the hotel or walk down any street without several men stepping up and in the most ingratiating way offering their services to help you change money, or buy curios, or do other things that men sometimes do in a port city. It’s quite annoying and I try to be polite but firm in refusal. However, they are likely to trot along beside you desperately trying to think of things you might be wanting to do so they can edge into the act and make some commission. It sure is a port town with its floating population of transients, who provide a small industry for guides, money changers, curio dealers, etc.
