Daily TribunePerhaps it is the climb, even in the most serious ascents anywhere. As with every conquest, it makes you wise.
Preserved underground the surrounding terrace gardens is a network of clay pipes that channel water to fountains, which function to this day.
Photograph courtesy of hj moyes
The world-acclaimed Sigiriya Lion Rock. The ancient fortress capital laced with a beautifully preserved castle ruins has become Sri Lanka’s most famous tourist destination.
Photograph by vernon velasco for the daily tribune
The castle lies in ruins on the steep slopes and on the summit of the granite peak.
Photograph courtesy of sigiriya lufbild
The western walls of Sigiriya are almost exclusively covered with frescoes, made during the Kashyapa period. Eighteen paintings are still intact today.
Photograph courtesy of prof. ranga sai
One of the best features of Sigiriya is its mirrored walls. In the old days it was so refined that the king could see the reflection. The walls are painted with inscriptions and poems written for Sigiriya’s guests.
There are arguably better days to claim Sri Lanka’s “summit,” a marvel both natural and man-made, to truly appreciate the enduring relic of the country’s insightful past and ancient engineering.
That’s when it’s pouring and its fountains spout water like they did thousands of years ago.
Even from afar, the acclaimed Lion’s Rock in Matale, as if deftly carved by gifted hands, at once strikes as unmistakably special.
We stood at the ruins of the capital smitten with the massive stone wall, which, at measly 350 meters, is dwarfed by the sheer size and scale of the country’s highest mountain, Pidurutalagala.
It’s nonetheless Sri Lanka’s most revered peak.
The Unesco Heritage Site, often billed as the 8th wonder of the world, was once a formidable fortress, the seat of power of Sri Lanka’s famous parricidal King Kashyapa I, who built the 5th-century citadel high up on the column of granite in fear of vengeful reckonings.
Tourists from the world over visit Sri Lanka to scale the structure, and take in the remaining frescoes from the bygone era that adorned the monolithic rock.
Preserved underground the surrounding terrace gardens is a network of clay pipes that function to this day.
“A cooling system” was how our local guide, Gihan, phrased it.
Which was exactly what we needed under that sun.
For a country of high and low terrains, you do not expect a flat-earth clime in Sri Lanka, even in destinations with just a few miles in between.
In Sigiriya, it was seasonably hot in August, which, once you’re confronted by the vertical wall as tall as noon, made the minor route more daunting.
Landing on the final leg of the climb, through a gate that originally resembled a lion’s trap, we gingerly embarked on the steep and narrow spine of stairs, with momentary pauses and silence to spare gasping for air and the view.
“It’s best to hike while the sun is dawning, when the climb is more forgiving and the rock is shrouded by mist,” a local advised.
“It adds to the mystery of something you do not anticipate.”
Surely, the castle’s chambers are most enchanting draped in haze and piercing gleam; the throne more commanding of wonder part-obscured in your view from what was once a lavish ballroom.
But, while it isn’t most ideal, an incline trek awash with sun revealed as much promise once on top: a sight to behold and appreciate in its entirety.
Those who didn’t turn around and made it talked about Adam’s Peak, where Buddha is said to have left a footprint when he visited Sri Lanka:
“You reach the tip, and all of your sins, it is believed, are forgiven.”
Perhaps it is the climb, even in the most serious ascents anywhere.
As with every conquest, you’re made wiser by the experience.
On Lion’s Rock, you sit on the edge with the eyes of a king and witness something truly majestic, struck by the same sense of awe he had thousands of years ago.
