Cutting it Fine in Colombo

Jeanne here again, after making you wait a week, I'll be finishing my story of what happens to me next after I bought my flight out of Sri Lanka into Frankfurt? It’ll be another lengthy email so I suggest you maybe get comfortable and prepare a hot drink before you start reading. Or skip straight to the end, if a great offer on a top-quality Global kitchen knife takes your fancy.  

For those of you who missed my newsletter of last week you can read the first part of this story by clicking this link. But to recap, here’s the story so far: I flew to Sri Lanka in April 2019 despite Easter Sunday bombings, expecting chaos but finding calm and a few lovely days with fellow travellers. Then the UK government suddenly told tourists to leave, flights were scarce and expensive, and I scrambled to get out. Just when I thought I had a route sorted, the airport hit me with a visa problem for my next stop, forcing a last-minute change and on the edge of a an eventful 36-hour wait.

After realising I really couldn’t wait at the airport for more than 36 hours for my next flight, I decided to call my tour leader, told him the “delightful” news of what happened and asked him which hostel the remaining bods of my group were going to go to later. He didn’t know, and said he’d phone me back. I thought I’d get a call maybe 30 minutes max later but no! Three hours later, he finally calls me and gives me the name of the place that he and the rest of my group would be staying. I was told that another group, who started a few days before us, were at this place already and the other tour leader would meet me there. So, off I went and found a taxi, gave them the name of the accommodation and off we went. Now, this was the one and only time I got scared and it all happened in just a few seconds. We were driving through Colombo, and I was looking around and to my right we drove very slowly past a wide road. On this road there were soldiers and a lot of them. They were spread in single file on both ends of the road about a couple of meters apart from each other. I knew what this meant as I heard that, after the first bombings happened on Easter Sunday, the military guys kept finding bombs everywhere in Colombo. Even a foot long pipe bomb at the airport! This I didn’t tell Dad until I got back home.  When they found a device, they did something called a controlled explosion. So, I was pretty convinced this was why so many soldiers were on this road and I tried my best to not panic too much and prayed that the car would just drive a little quicker. The scenarios that were going through my head if the controlled explosion failed were pretty nerve racking.  2-3 minutes of driving away from this road and I thought that I was safe.

Fast forward to arriving at the place I was going to stay for the night, and I panicked again. It wasn’t a hostel; it was a hotel and a fancy one at that. Fancy five-star hotels were one of the places that were targeted and bombed.  So, lovely as it was, this hotel was not making me feel safe.

The taxi driver kindly accompanied me to reception, but no one at the hotel spoke English and they didn’t recognise the tour company’s name. In my anxious state, I now couldn’t remember the other tour leader’s name, all together I began to worry I was in the wrong place.

Panic really was rising inside me when thankfully a western looking girl peacefully walks towards us and says my name, incorrectly, but I didn’t care, just exclaiming “Omg yes that’s me, thank god I’m in the right place.” The relief that washed over me was so uplifting and my heart rate wasn’t going at 500 miles an hour anymore. I check in, get taken to the room I will have to share with a girl from the other group.  Time to destress by the pool and catch up with any news from the other group.

Before my trip took a twist ......

Later, my room being close to reception, I hear a new bunch of people arrive and at the same time I recognised some voices, I hear a concerned voice saying, “Where is Jeanne? I hope she’s alright after what she went through this morning”. Now this was amazing, and I started to feel like I was almost home just from hearing their familiar voices.

I rush out of my room, walk down the stairs and they see me and are all calling for me.  Lots of hugs, questions and asking how I am, and then the rest of the day we relaxed by the pool and had a calm evening at the hotel catching up and sharing the events of the day.

The following day people are slowly leaving one by one, having found routes out of the country, and I’m one of the last to go at around midday. My tour leader, Martin, is helping me put my things in the taxi that the tour company uses, we say goodbye again and he says "no more trouble from you now, OK". "Yes of course. No more trouble" I replied. Well, I didn’t want more trouble, but the universe wanted to challenge me. I’m in the taxi on my way to the airport, again. I had my phone in my right hand and my passport in my left. For extra security, the police were checking tourists' IDs as they were looking for an American woman and two English brothers who took part in the bombings.

I wasn't the only one trying to leave Colombo ......

I was dropped by the first checkpoint well away from the airport, then had to walk, to then take a minibus that would take us closer to the terminal. I got on and sat at the front and a minute later we were at the next security check. I was the first to get off the minibus and didn’t have to wait for my luggage since I didn’t have a suitcase that needed to go in the hold. My rucksack was with me. As I get off the minibus, I pat down my leggings to find my phone. It’s not there! How strange, maybe it’s in my bag. I look through it and it’s not there. I pat myself down again thinking maybe I’ve gone mad and didn’t feel my phone properly, but it still isn’t tucked in my leggings. I thought f*** where is it. OH! I must have left it on the minibus. Just as I thought that, it was starting to turn around to go back to pick up the next lot of people. I knock on the door in a hurry, they stop, let me in, I find the seat I was and it’s not there. The driver and helper said there was no phone, maybe it’s in my bag and I looked too quickly before. So, I checked my bag three times, it was nowhere to be found. I was saying every swear word that exists under the sun. I panicked, not just from potentially losing my contacts, notes, memories and messages but knowing that Dad needed constant updates from me, so he knew I was alive.

It was gone and I felt so lost. After a minute or two of panicking I then came to the realisation that there was nothing I could do. It was gone and that was it. How would I manage to contact dad? I remember seeing phone booths at most airports so I could call him from there and keep updating him when I’m waiting for my connecting flight or landed in Frankfurt. How will I entertain myself on the journey? I have a sudoko book, so I’ll cope. After coming to all these solutions to not having my phone anymore I calmed down and my mind was able to think more clearly.

But, how in the bloody hell did I lose my phone? With a clearer mind I was able to back track when I last saw my phone. I had it at hotel, I had it when I got into the taxi, where was it when I was in the taxi? Passport in one hand, phone in the other. When I left the taxi I had my passport and… OMG it had been in my hand, and I put it down on the seat next me and never picked it back up! Yay, at least I knew where I lost it. A minute later I remembered that the tour company use the same drivers to build relationships, so it wasn’t just a random taxi driver. I then thought that if I can get a hold of my tour leader Martin, he could call the taxi driver, and I might be able to get it back. Did I write Martin’s number down anywhere? No, bugger again. Hmm, if I can find a way to contact the hotel we stayed at, then I can get a hold of Martin. Ok but how? When I finally get inside the airport I go up to the information desk and there is a smiley and friendly guy behind the counter. I said that I needed some help, and I tell him my story and ask if I could borrow his phone to find the hotel on google and get the number there. After a few seconds of hesitating, he kindly lent me his phone. Somehow, I remembered the spelling of the hotel , found it straight away and passed the phone back to him. He dialled the number onto the phone on the desk, someone answers and quickly the phone gets passed onto me. I forgot that no one spoke English at the hotel, so it was back and forth of me repeating “Martin Frost”, “by the pool or room number 7 or 9”, “Martin Frost, I need Martin Frost”. It was painful but luckily, they got the message and moments later Martin is on the phone. “MARTIN! Thank God I got a hold of you, it’s Jeanne here”. He said, “Oh god, what’s happened now?”. It was the kind of tone that said ‘I give up with you’ but in a sweet, funny way. I told him where I left my phone, and he said, “OK it’s all fine, I’ll talk to the taxi driver and I’ll let you know if he has it”. Hang up the phone, waited 5 minutes and the desk phone rings. The guy who has been helping me answers it and passes it onto me and Martin said, “the taxi driver has your phone”. Relieved to hear the news but then dread came back as I thought where do I meet him, trapped in the airport and with no way of communicating with the driver at all. I was told to go back to where he dropped me off and he’d be there in about 20 minutes. I had no watch either but being a pastry chef in my past life taught me how to gauge time.

So, thanking the guy at the information desk, off I went, passport in hand. Heading in the opposite direction to every other person in the airport.  I felt, and must have looked, very suspicious, so I checked with every policeman along the way if it was OK for me to walk back against the flow and explaining why.  After negotiations with the soldiers at the gate though, it was clear I would have to leave the airport grounds completely to meet my taxi driver.

I waited on a patch of grass where to my left was just country land and to my right was a long road leading up to the airport with an extremely long queue of cars that was at a standstill. Each car was being stopped, checked and each suitcase was being opened and inspected. I feared the taxi driver was in this queue. I had 3 hours until my flight, so I tried not to panic but I knew we had gone over the 20-minute mark. As I waited, some tuk tuk drivers would ask if I needed a lift and pretty quickly I got a bit annoyed after a while of being asked that a lot, so when someone was shouting out “Ma’am, Ma’am”, I chose to ignore it this time. “Ma’am”, nope not going to answer that. Then it weirdly got louder and closer “Ma’am, MA’AM”. Ok fine I’ll look in their direction now. What I see as I turn to my left is the taxi driver on the back of a scooter, waving his arm at me and has my phone in his other hand. As you could imagine, I was jumping for joy that he found me and that I got my phone back. I gave him a massive hug and gave him whatever change I had left as a thank you. The relief that washed over me was just, quite unbelievable. I then had to go through all the security checks again and funnily enough went to the same woman and the confused face of recognising me was quite a picture. I had no energy left in me to say anything. I had sweated a lot from the heat and stress of trying to get my phone back and my adrenaline had peaked and that was it, but now all the energy drained out of me.”

Finally, back inside the airport and I wanted to let the guy at the information desk know that I got my phone back and thank him for helping me out. I could see that his shift had finished as someone else was in his seat by then. I go to check in and even though I knew I could go into Europe with no visa, I still feared that I wasn’t going to be let on my flight again. The fear stayed until I went through security and was waiting to board my flight. That was when I finally felt completely stress free and treated myself to ice cream ..... and a rainbow-coloured scarf.

The End

What a story eh? Quite a lot of people have been surprised that this experience hasn’t put me off and that I’ve said I’ll definitely go back to Sri Lanka to see the country properly. And another thing I’m going to probably shock you with is I’m really happy I went through all of this! What this experience has taught me is when one panics, we can’t think clearly. I learnt to stay calm, take a step back from a situation and then look how to solve it. The moment we’re able to accept the reality, be zen, then we can think more clearly and come up with solutions. Or just accepting there isn’t a solution to the reality and learning to be ok with the outcome.  

I thought I’d finish this email with a recipe of mine which is a pear and frangipane tart but I’m sure you’ll be please to know that I will leave that for another time. This email is lengthy again but we are a cookshop so I do need to mention something cookware related.

To Product

So, I do have another offer for you if you are looking to getting yourself a new knife or (if you are a Global knife fan) adding to your collection.  

The Kiritsuke knife, originating in Japan, is traditionally regarded as the “knife of the master chef,” historically reserved for experienced chefs in high-end kitchens. It's a great multi-purpose knife that evolved from the Usuba (vegetable knife) and Yanagiba (fish slicer), the Kiritsuke combines the precise straight edge of the Usuba with the pointed tip of the Yanagiba. Its versatile design makes it ideal for slicing vegetables thinly, filleting fish and performing delicate preparation of both meat.

Made from durable stainless steel with a well-balanced, comfortable handle, this 15cm Global version of the Kiritsuke knife feels easy to use and keeps a sharp edge without a lot of fuss. Whether you’re curious about Japanese knife techniques or just want a dependable, all-around kitchen knife, the Global 40th Anniversary Kiritsuke Knife 15cm GS-110AN is a practical and approachable choice.

This knife has an RRP of £135 but we've been selling at £69. This week only you can get a further £15 off making it £54.00 (plus age verified delivery if shopping online). Let us know who you are if you are coming into the shops, or use the code KIRIT15 (that's KIRIT fifteen).

I hope you have an interesting and eventful weekend,

Kind regards,

Jeanne