Life after heaven

Life after heaven

Lazy Sunday morning. The aroma of fresh coffee wafts into the room. This is enough incentive for me to roll out of bed. Everyone eventually showers. All of us take off for Dim Sum at the Hilton Emperor Wok.

Full as we eventually head off to my piece of heaven in Sri Lanka, The Barefoot Shop, Gallery and Café. We immediately leave the heat and humidity of the day as we walk into the Barefoot Garden. The splash of colour never fails to surprise me. Sunday Jazz Band in attendance and the crooning voice of Jerome Speldewinde entertains.

Christmas hols and it’s almost like back in London. I spot many of the Diaspora. Wave, grin and cheerful greetings shouted across. Many of us carrying around the absolutely necessary piece of Diaspora kit, a digital camera! Picture’s taken, hugs and New Year kisses. I quickly look about and spot in relief that my mates have headed upstairs.

The true beauty of the Barefoot garden is truly captured from the balcony. The Jazz Band forms the centrepiece to a bustle of colour. The religious statues from far off kovils in the north, ethnic Christmas trees, the wonderful painting hung on the bar wall, a fusion of colour in the table cloths, huge ceramic pots teeming with little orange and red fish.

The Tiger beer I sip feels colder, much better than anywhere else in the world. I am home, in heaven, in my Paradise Isle. The two Diaspora kids who run up to see me are impressed. They believe that broad upper floor over the Barefoot Café bar is where I live when I am in Sri Lanka! Reluctantly I set them right.

I give up on the uber cool image I am trying to project and click away with my piece of Canon kit. Dom the owner of Barefoot spots me from downstairs. Grin, wave and a huge thumbs up.

Some of us head into the Barefoot shop to do some shopping. I have already been. Sterling statue of God Gnanapathi, the famous Barefoot stone Buddha’s, compulsory Barefoot sarongs, Table Mats, Napkins and a load of knickknacks for the kid. All for just under £100! All in the unimaginably glorious Barefoot colours of Sri Lanka.

With the mildly amused acceptance of Nas and the obliging grin of Dom’s I take a few shots of inside the shop that you enjoy now. Normally a strict no the shop staff looks at me annoyingly and are still suspicious despite the fact that I inform them I have approval.

Dusk arrives and all too soon Jerome and the Band pack up for the evening. Few pictures, goodbyes to everyone and we head off. Getting into my friends monster sports car I take one last look back. It’s Sunday, I leave my Paradise Isle early Tuesday morning. My heart aches, the lump in my throat and teary eyes I hide from my friends. I console myself that I am back in April for a friends wedding.

It’s twelve inches of snow and minus eight degrees outside as I sit here typing this from the stix of England. But in my soul I hear the voice of Jerome Speldewine. Brilliant colours mix in my mind. I am full from the café’s fresh fusion food. I am wearing the bright gold Barefoot sarong mixed with shades of black. The warm tropical wind caresses my back. The scent of frangipani flowers scatters everywhere. Lord Gnanapathi gazes at me in benevolence.

Colombo’s wonderful oasis for every weary traveller. Barefoot.