In 1978, I was travelling some of the lesser known planetary locations. I am unable to illuminate the issue of Foulpointe in Madagascar but will say that Madagascar is one of the most interesting places I have ever been. From one of the finest French meals I have ever had the joy to consume, to the open air market where one stand dispensed DDT by hand to waiting farmers. The smell to this day is unforgettable.
Madagascar had fallen on hard times after socialist goverment had been leading the nation to ruin. The populace had been stripping the countryside of available wood for charcoal which was there major source of fuel. I am willing to consider an exploratory trip to this splendid land.
Sri Lanka was also on my itinerary. After a few weeks in Hikkaduwa (another story entirely) we took the train into the mountains of Sri Lanka. Above the mountain town of Kandy was Nuwara Eliya. This is truly a a wondrous place. Built by British Tea growers, Nuwara Eliya may look more like Britain than Britain itself. Post and beam, stucco buildings seemed so out of place in this foreign land. In the valley was the golf club and on the hillside above was the Hill Club(
http://www.srilankahotelstravel.com/thehillclub.html). I certainly hope this amazing place has survived the years of rebellion that have wracked the nation.
If you can imagine, the Hill Club required a sport coat for meals. My blazer had been packed away at the bottom of my pack for three months. I rang for the 'boy' who we heard running barefoot down the wooden hallway.
"Sahib this will just not do!"
He whisked the coat away and within twenty minutes it was returned pressed and cleaned. The only other people staying in the hotel that night was a family from Texas.
The following day we moved to the bunk room of the Nuwara Eliya golf club. My buddy and I played 54 holes over the next two days. Our caddies were Matu and James. Matu had only three fingers on one hand but had still managed to win the Sri Lankan Championship several times. James was the younger of the two. Each time I hit a ball into the gorse, James would plunge into the thorny bush and return, bleeding, with my ball in hand.
In the evening, we had planned a simple meal followed by some billiards and an early evening. However, word had spread amongst the now Sri Lankan tea growers and several of them came to meet the crazy Americans. We drank, played billiards and swapped lies into the wee hours of the morning. Much to the chagrin of the club manager who simply wanted to lock us in for the evening and go home.
As it came time to go, James and Matu carried our bags to the bus station. We over tipped them and bid a fond farewell. In the twenty five years since we were in Nuwara Eliya, I have thought of them often. The golf was fun the service was grand and the generosity of the people was unforgettable.