Buckingham Place, Tangalle, Sri Lanka

This was our third stay at Buckingham Place, a beautiful place on Rekawa Beach, which Marc says is his favorite beach -- and it truly is stunning. It's part of a turtle refuge, and last time we saw the marks of the mother turtles coming up to lay their eggs; none this time, but the beach is protected. Nick Buckingham owns the place, and the first time we visited, it was substantially smaller, one tiny pool and no large dining space, and Nick was home in the UK, something to do with his health. The first time we went there was also a friendly pony named Ginger who would haunt you as you lay by the pool, bopping you on the head with the big jaw. She was no longer living when we returned on our second trip.

Nick is a very good host, attuned to the social needs of his guests, along with all the things that make you feel welcome. Last time they hung a gigantic banner in our room, blocking the upper part of the large windows, that said "Welcome Back!" When they cleaned our room the next day, we assumed they'd remove the banner, but they didn't, so Marc finally just took it down. This time their approach was more subtle, and again it was never touched during our long stay:

Our welcome drinks included watermelon juice and a bottle of Pinot Noir. Kalpa, the General Manager, assumed we'd come to the restaurant for dinner, but it had been such a long, difficult trip that we just wanted to crash, which we did. Getting to our room felt like a soft landing after a hard journey.

The first night the peacocks woke me up throughout the night doing their peacock-screaming, but it was ok. We didn't see nearly as many peacocks, monkeys, or monitor lizards this trip, compared to the last trip, but we did see some of each.

I'd been excitedly looking forward to egg hoppers for breakfast, but the first morning I had the chili eggs with spicy coconut sambol and bacon curry, which further helped Etihad feel like a distant memory.

Marc in the large dining space

We stayed there for seven nights, and here's what we did: ate breakfast, swam, napped, back to the pool, Marc walked on the beach, I did yoga, more pool or napping, and then figure out where to go for dinner. Rigorous.

The last time we were there, we saw a lot more monkeys, peacocks, and monitor lizards, but we did get to see them this time too. The monkeys hung around the pool one day, at first eyeballing us from the top of the building, and later dipping their toes into the pool as they drank. After they all disappeared, we asked Kalpa about it and he said they just roam around, and at the moment they were hanging around his house.

being watched

I read Tommy Orange's new book, Wandering Stars, and did a lot of basking.

One night we decided to eat at a little shack restaurant just outside the gates of the hotel. We'd read good reviews, even though the first few times Marc walked past it, it didn't even look like anyone ever existed in the space. It was just pretty gross, so we read the reviews again, and then Marc happened upon the owner of the place, who warmly invited us to come for dinner, so we did.

The kottu roti, not good. Dense, packed into a dish for presentation. We didn't hear the
distinctive clang clang clang of kottu making, so we were a little unsure what they
were actually making. We both got kottu, which we regretted because if one of us had
gotten something else, we might've had one dish we enjoyed, and could split.

The space, which looked more inviting once they "opened," although there was an empty
and filthy-looking water dispenser that didn't help.

I'd ordered a beer, and when he brought it ought it was one of the gigantic bottles. (A side note: I usually get a beer when we travel because I enjoy trying local beers, and Marc orders a big bottle of water, which he kind of acts out as he orders -- which I mention because it's an extra element of him asking for water, which could be memorable. Almost every time, they put the beer in front of Marc and the water in front of me. When we correct them, they do a kind of embarrassed laugh, looking sideways at me. Maybe women don't typically drink beer in public in all the places we go?)

So anyway, when he brought out the *gigantic* bottle of beer, he leaned forward and whispered that he didn’t have a license, so if anyone came by and asked, to say that I bought it at a store. That was worth spending one of our dinners there. I’ll smile conspiratorially about that beer for quite a while. Sri Lankans are still trying to recover from the one-two punch of pandemic and government collapse, so I’m glad to give dinner money to a guy and his wife trying to make a living. As we were eating, our comments were that it was good enough kottu, average, just ok, but as the night went on, our summary of it was that it just was not good. And we think the bottle of water they brought Marc might've been their tap water.

So that was that -- we decided to hit up the improbably named Cactus Lounge, where we ate several times on our last visit. It's the highest-rated restaurant in Tangalle, well deserved. It's a kind of shack place right on the beach, and the owner was so happy that we returned two more times. Their fries are amazing, and I got grilled prawns in garlic sauce two times, and devilled prawns once. We got a tomato salad, yum, and a slaw salad. With my (again, giant) beer and banana fritters with ice cream for dessert, our dinner the first night was just under $30 for some of the best-prepared giant prawns we've ever had.