Dimbulla Valley:

The Mountain Idyll

Castlereigh reservoir

A day or two spent travelling through the vast landscape of the tea country in Hatton encompassing uncountable waterfalls, dozens of lakes, miles of clear brooks and cascading streams is bound to provide anyone with many a “wish-you-were-here” moment.

Aditha Dissanayake

Last Thursday morning, in a bungalow in Hatton, aptly (or otherwise) called the Vicarage, as I started to wake up from a series of heavenly dreams, I discovered that I had turned into two tiny green leaves and a bud.

Or so I imagined, my mind, undoubtedly lingering on the opening lines of Kafka's “Metamorphosis.” For more than eight hours of the day just ended, I had been indulging in cup upon cup of that golden brew called tea, listening and watching how the green leaves from the bushes called Camellia sinensis turn into the black dust like substances called B.O.P, B.O.P Fannings and Pekoes.

At night I drank tea laced with milk together with a piece of kitul jaggery taken after each sip. I listened to the adventures of the pioneer planters from Britain who had tamed wild jungles and braved the wrath of the elements to introduce this cash crop to our island.

I had hiked through tea fields and passed my own judgement on spoonfuls of tea I was asked to taste; pungent, smoky, astringent... whatever. The wind constantly carried the sweet aroma of the drying leaves to me, because here I was, surrounded by ever so many factories manufacturing the world renown Dimbulla teas.

Agapantha, as beautiful as the sky

No wonder at the end of the day I found myself metamorphosed into two leaves and a bud. Tea - a teetotalers drink? Surely no. Not when it is sipped in heavenly surroundings where the fresh air itself is intoxicating. Not when you realize the Chinese poet Lu Tung was slightly mistaken when he said after the seventh cup of tea you reach the gates of heaven. If you drink just one cup of freshly brewed Dimbulla tea seated in the spacious living room of a Manager's bungalow in the Hatton region, with Adam's Peak forever visible outside your windows, with rows of agapantha beaming at you from the edges of the lawn so beautiful they seem artificial, you are bound to feel your spirits lift and soar towards the realms of the immortals by the time you reach the last drop in that first cup.

From Agarapathana to Dayagama, from Norwood to Bogawanthalawa, the tea industry of Hatton, has never lost its vigor since those heady days of the 19th Century when young British planters sought their fortunes in this fertile land.

Just as aficionados flock to Napa or the Loire Valley for wine tasting, why not travel around the stunning Dimbulla valley to indulge in mist, myths, mountains and tea? Chances are, not only will it turn you off from coffee and fizzy drinks forever but prove to be an eye-opening journey through settings both rustic and grand.

Rustic and grand it was for me and my two companions as we drove from Lindula towards Diyagama via the Fordyce gap last Thursday. The sun too decided to return to his office after having enjoyed a seemingly long vacation.

The world around me had erupted into every shade of green imaginable: rolling hills, quaint bungalows, leaf-eating monkeys peering at me through the leaves of giant ferns all merged into one spectacular tapestry that had no beginning or end.

Here was the time to forget the endless straight miles along the southern coast bordering the Indian Ocean; here was the time to think of countless, joyful curves, mountain streams and the pink leaves adorning the tree tops, to borrow a phrase from Shakespeare, like the rich jewels in an Ethiop's ear. Finally here was the time to let go of the highway-hungry speed-loving soul, and settle down to a meditative crawl - especially on the road past Agarapathana where life depends entirely on patience and reversing skills behind the wheel.

It would surely not be an overstatement to say that most of the tea country in Hatton is very different from the terrain in Nuwara Eliya.

There was barely a home or soul in sight

View from Robgill

Where you can find easy accommodation, modern technology and many tourists in Nuwara Eliya, the Hatton region seems to be a lot more flinty, aloof and resistant to changes. The mist here is thicker, the days shorter,the wilderness up close and much more personal than in most other parts of the region.

Wherever you go it is impossible to miss Adam's Peak in the distance. Perhaps taking a cue from this holy pinnacle, though wind-driven, ancient, and inscrutable none of the other mountains in the Dimbulla valley too seem forbidding. Especially the genial rock formation called the Duke's Nose under whose protective shade unfurl blanket upon blanket of tea.

Those who are thirsty for excitement and adventure are bound to enjoy the climb uphill to the ominous, brooding peak that borders the Robgill Estate.

Though often covered in thick mist the view from the top on a clear day stretches as far as Nuwara Eliya and gives a bird's eye view of the Castlereigh reservoir which is filled to capacity these days. Here is where you will find untouched wilderness as well as abundant natural drama - that is if you happen to have the courage and the stamina to endure a night on the peak.

No worries, though, if your idea of fun doesn't involve steep cliffs or icy dips in mountain streams.

You can still enjoy the scenery via spectacular drives. The most scenic is the drive along the Castlereigh reservoir towards Maskeliya, which offers plenty of chances to snap great photos.

Back at the Vicarage, it was time to check mail, time to flick through the photos and yes, time for another cup of tea. For once Appu - the butler's porker face turned into a grin. “Good tea? Yes?” When I nodded to say yes he shook his head. “Very good” he insisted. I took another sip.

Reader, it was excellent.

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