Never in a month of Sundays did I think that I’d be standing, on my own, in the middle of the small coastal town of Negombo in the south of Sri Lanka, in the middle of the night, looking for somewhere that would serve me some kind of food that I wasn’t scared of.
But there I was. Thankfully, my bike had arrived in one piece and I’d been incredibly well looked-after by the Sri Lankan Airlines flight attendants while sprawled out on my business class seat-cumbed-cum-personal-cinema thing. But I might as well have flown to another planet…