Ruk Rakaganno

There is nothing like a cup of tea more than 2,000m up.

Just a few steps from the summit of Sri Lanka's most famous mountain Adam's Peak, I think I had the best cup of tea of my life.

I had just climbed 5,000 steps, it was freezing cold (even after a month of sweating in the tropics it was unpleasant to feel a chill), the cloud had just come down and we still had 200 steps to go.

Fortunately there are tea houses on Adam’s Peak all the way to the top. The canvas shack that we took refuge in threatened to blow away at any minute and the tea was an extortionate 50 rupees (12p) but still it was worth it for a rush of caffeine and sugar.

We had been climbing since 2am and it was still dark outside. Below I could see the lights of the path snaking down through the mist as pilgrims filed past. Monks in burnt orange woolies to match their robes, children in bare feet and balaclavas and old men in rain coats and flip flops.

When we started walking it was difficult to see anything at all. I found myself relying on smell. The antiseptic waff of tiger balm used to keep the mossies off and warm the muscles, the incense burning at the statues of Buddha, the hoppers (rice flour pancakes) being fried for breakfast and the raw smell of human sweat.

Sound too became louder in the moonlight. The humming of Buddhist monks, the chatter of drunk boys and family groups climbing ahead and the constant chirrup of frogs in the surrounding jungle.

We climbed for three-and–a-half hours to make it in time for sunrise but it was worth all 5,200 steps some of which were a foot high, some barely there at all and some crumbling into the mountain. I was surprised to see frail old ladies climbing ahead or parents carrying babies down the mountain after a night climb.

Adam’s Peak or Sri Pada is a sacred site in Sri Lanka whatever your religion. To Buddhists it is the sacred footprint left by the Buddha as he headed towards paradise and to Christians it is the place where Adam first set foot on earth after being cast out of heaven

All year round and all night long people make the pilgrimage to the peak, something every Sri Lankan must do at least once in a life time. As a consequence the climb has something of the atmosphere of Lourdes or carnival day which reaches a crescendo at the summit.

Monks drum and blow trumpets as the sun rises and hundreds of pilgrims squeeze onto the Dagabo 2,143m up. Even if you are not here for an explicitly religious reason there is a great sense of achievement in making the climb and euphoria as the sun rises on another day.
When we climb it was particularly busy mornings as it was the dawn of a Poya or full moon day, a holy time in Sri Lanka.
The next day was expected to be so busy that queues will stretch right down the mountain and the Sri Lankan Red Cross were setting up tents as [pilgrims] wobbled down the steps on shaky legs. As the steam rose over the tea plantations we decided there was only one way to recover: tea and cake.
Fortunately the hill country around Adam’s Peak has been given over to the cult of tea since the British first got here in late 19th century. As we wound into the hills we passed Inverness, Edinburgh and Somerset to name a few of the estates dotting the lush countryside.
The names are not only association with back home, like many colonial outposts the hill country is more British that Britain.
In Nuwara Eliya where we stayed there are red pillar boxes, rose gardens and plenty of rain to help you feel at home. We even went to the races where there were no hats and champagne but plenty of cut glass accents and strawberries.

In case you think this is veering from my job as communications advisor to Ruk Rakaganno the Tree society of Sri Lanka, I was on a public holiday like everyone else for Poya.

Any how it all fits in together rather nicely with tree protection because tea is in fact a tree. Further more a tea tree will grow to 30 foot high and live up to 100 years if left to nature.
I gathered these and other random facts on a tour of one of the many factories telling the story behind tea. After donning aprons and hairnets, we were taken through the fragrant process of withering, rolling, cutting, fermenting, drying, sorting and tasting tea.

Like wine it is a delicate balance and a change in temperature, weather or method can change the flavour dramatically.
The best quality are the cut leaves known as broken orange pekoe used for English Breakfast tea and the worst is the “dust” left at the bottom and favoured by Sri Lankans for their strong milky “thay”.

The guide was full of information on the medicinal uses of tea for everything from curing cancer to the common cold. What was more difficult to ascertain were the hard economic facts.
Tamil women, who were brought here by the British from southern India, still pick the tea as their delicate fingers are better able to get the “flush” or buds than any machine. They dot the countryside in bright saris and nose studs [and] labour up hills with baskets of tea on their backs.
It seems like hard work for 300 rupees ( Pound 1.50 a day) but tea plantations claim social responsibility.
Each family is given a house and help with schooling. The multi-nationals running tea estates also claim to be eco-friendly and are generally seen to be a good thing for the environment.
Not only are the estates undeniably pretty much of the fertilizer is natural waste from the factories and the wood used to heat the dryers is from sustainable forests. There is even talk of bringing compost from the cities in the future and growing bio fuels alongside the tea.
Having said all that, the tea plantations are responsible for the decimation of the cloud forest that would have covered this area of Sri Lanka originally.
The last remaining patch is Horton Plains National Park, the only place on Earth other than New Zealand that could be used to film Lord of the Rings.
The strange landscape of ancient savannah and stunted forest clothed in colourful lichen is best seen at dawn so it was another early start to track to World’s End, where the plateau suddenly drops 880m into the clouds.

Luckily this time we were prepared with a thermos of coffee. Again it was worth it. In fact I think it may just have been the best cup of coffee of my life.

Louise Gray is communication advisor to Ruk Rakaganno.