We headed towards Sigiriya, declared by UNESCO as the 8th Wonder of the World, very early in the morning and although I had seen picures and read about it before, I don't think I was prepared for what we would later experience.
The Lion Rock of Sigiriya is a 600-foot rock transformed into a fortess and palace (now in ruins) surrounded by the remains of what used to be an extensive network of gardens and reservoirs. Having been inhabited through prehistoric times it was used as a rock monastery from the 5th century BC, with caves prepared by devotees of the Buddhist Sangha though it is indissolubly linked to the tragic story of Kassapa and Moggallana, children of the King Anuradhapura Dhatusena.
Having been born to a different mother and fearing his step brother (by a royal blood mother) Kassapa took over the throne emprisoning his father, whilst Moggallana fled to India. It was during his reign (477 to 495 AD) that most defensive structures and the elaborate constructions on the summit of the rock were constructed. Among the various stories regarding his defeat during the decisive battle against his brother and his subsequent fate, one caught my attention in particular - he cut his throat with a dagger, following a misinterpretation on the part of his army, as the elephant he was riding made a wrong move, which led everyone to believe it was a retreat signal.
Knowing the climb could be hard, several porters surrounded and followed the group, insisting on helping us, particularly the women they felt wouldn't make it all the way up without additional help. From time to time we could hear them saying "Bon courage" as if to remind us all that we would need it ... and eventually need them.
We reached the first level - The Mirror Wall without too many difficulties though. Originally this wall is said to have been so polished that the King could see himself whilst walking along it. It ows its reflecting suface to a coating of polished lime where people are said to have written verses some of which dating to the 8th century, though not much of those could be actually "deciphered".
The spiral stairs leading to the galery of frescoes looked quite fearful for someone (like me) who fears the heights, but I was determined to make it all the way, particularly because this was the moment I had been longing for after having seen several of the Sigiriya's maiden paintings.
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