A long time ago on the cool, frosty grasslands of Horton Plains in the highlands of Ceylon (present day Sri Lanka) stood “Farr Inn”, built in 1901 by Englishman Thomas Farr. He built it as a hunting lodge and home.
Originally, he came to Ceylon to become a coffee planter, but a blight wiped out all the coffee plants. He decided to try growing TEA - and in many ways was one of the “fathers of Ceylon Tea” as we know it. He died in 1919 in England – but loved Ceylon so much that it is said he asked that his ashes be scattered there in the mountains near Horton Plains.
Thomas Farr’s bungalow was turned over to private enterprise shortly after his death, and became a guest house known as Farr Inn. It was truly a MAGICAL and WONDERFUL place when I grew up in Ceylon as a child. My parents and I would travel from the dusty, polluted capital of Colombo up to Horton Plains whenever possible. Horton Plains is not “tropical” although Ceylon is (for the most part) a tropical country. The Plains consist of central mountains etched by time into a tabletop of rolling pampas that are punctuated by rhododendron, evergreen forests, waterfalls and crystal-clear streams. Temperatures at night in the Plains drop to freezing. The dawns are misty and the days are those of endless azure skies. The plains are alive with deer, sambas, rabbits and - the occasional and elusive leopard. Trout jump in the cool, clear streams; birds sing, butterflies flutter everywhere. It was as close to heaven as one could find on earth.
“My parents and I entered the mud room of Farr Inn. Of course, one leaves ones shoes and parasols there. Mrs. Perera - the innkeeper - greets all with a sincere and warm CHEERIO - and a kiss on each cheek. We rub our hands swiftly together in a childlike way- to WHOOSH away the chill of the evening air. We sink into the overstuffed chairs around the fireplace - the fire feels heavenly....we even begin to feel cozy now. We exchange CHEERIOS and other salutations with all the other guests and begin some of The Farr Inn customary rituals....talking, playing cards, getting to know one another, telling mystery stories and tall tales. Just then Mrs. Perera wheels in a teacart full of little lemon biscuits and rose-water flavoured tea cakes. We sip cup after cup of delicious tea - grown at the nearby Bogowana Tea Estate (and I, of course, grin ear to ear in pride - because my Uncle Tiger was the Manager of the Bogowana Tea Estate!). Mrs. Perera returns wearing a silly paper handmade hat - similar to those worn at Boxing Day or Christmas - she announces that it’s SING-ALONG time. Up you go, now - don’t sit and mope, JOIN IN - she says. The selection of music is small, and we share the words from frayed, hand-written cards - The Prisoner’s Song, Goodnight Irene, It’s a Long Way to Tipperary, The Nightingale Sang in Barclay Square, etc. Mrs. Perera gets us going - then disappears (she has dinner to tend to).
We’re all engrossed in song. Just then, Mrs. Perera rings a loud bell - and the spell magically breaks - but only for a moment....replaced by yet another big of magic. It’s DINNER time! Chicken curry tonight (it’s chicken curry most every night, but that’s how things go). After Rice & Curry, we have dessert - Mrs. Perera loves making desserts. She tries to outdo herself each night with desserts. Tonight she’s made “Mousse de chocolat” and it is delicious.
Whew! We are so full, but it’s time for ghost stories by the fireside. Each guest has a more intriguing ghost story than the other. You know - the kind of story one doesn’t really care to hear....yet one scoots a little closer so as not to miss a single word. The lights dim and flicker - no, it isn’t “special effects” - you see Farr Inn is completely powered by generator. There are no electricity poles at this altitude and this isolation. There will be LIGHTS OUT in a few more minutes. Of course - someone must always tell just one more ghost story....the lights have already gone out. We carry candles to our rooms. Did I mention that there is no heat at Farr Inn? We have only the warmth from the sitting room fireplace, and at night - each bed has a hot water bottle filled with extremely hot water in the very centre of the bed. Each bed has layers of covers.
I am in bed, nice and cozy - oh - why oh why did I have to drink that extra cup of tea? I have to get out of this cozy, comfy bed to go to the bathroom. I dread that because I know that the bathroom floor will be chilly even with my slippers on....but, get up I must. Suddenly, on my way back to bed I hear a scratching noise on the other side of the window. We are all on the ground floor (there isn’t a second floor). Should I look? What if it’s a - you know - a GHOST - after all those lurid stories - it could be anything. Should I look? Should I? I feel brave. I gently peel back the heavy chintz drape and see......a magnificent leopard looking back at me. He just looks at me and I look at him; I am suddenly not afraid. I am, instead, in total awe of his beauty. He lifts his head to one side, turns around - and silently is engulfed by the night. I look up, noticing the exceptionally bright stars. This has to be heaven.
The next morning I wake up to a hearty English breakfast. I tell my parents and all at the breakfast table about my night visitor. Mrs. Perera just smiles - others have seen leopards before. She offers to let us ride Farr Inn’s only horse down to Little World’s End and then to Big World’s End. She packs us a picnic lunch to enjoy at one of the many streams or waterfalls along the trail. Mrs. Perera stays behind. Very soon - we realize that the poor horse is half-blind and very, very old. We decide not to tire out the poor old nag. We lovingly tie up the horse at a place where she can graze; we’ll pick her up on our way back. My Dad puts his arm around my shoulder and I look up at his kind, loving face and smile. Mum squeezes my hand in a “I love you too” motion - I am so happy and loved and SAFE at this moment in my life.
We are halfway there - we are now at Little World’s End - a magnificent view lies ahead - valleys and waterfalls abound. We trek onwards to World’s End - and we know why they call it that. One feels just that - at the END of the WORLD - the entire WORLD seems to lie in front - surely, the entire island of Ceylon! On a clear day, one can see for hundreds and hundreds of kilometers. Even on a misty day - one can see for miles away. We walk back to Farr Inn, picking up our semi-blind horse on the return. It’s tea time, of course.....”
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