A Mansion in the Hill Country

I was looking forward to seeing my next hotel – another of the “traditional hotels” my travel agent had booked for me. It was called St Andrew’s and, I was told, used to be a favorite haunt of the English living in Ceylon. It certainly looked the part with its wood paneling and cozy furniture. The “Welcome Drink” was a small cup of hot soup. It tasted wonderful especially because – for the first time since I arrived – I was a little chilly.
I went to my room.



No air conditioning – but a small space heater just in front of the sofa. Maybe I was in England!
Though St Andrew’s has been owned by a Sri Lankan chain since 1987, they are proud to share its history with their visitors.
The building dates from the end of the 19th or early 20th century. It was, first, the home of a “Servant of the Crown”, then a “Scot’s club” – golf outside and billiards inside – which is when it gained its name. During World War I, a group of Ceylonese investors led by a “hotelier and race horse owner” named Arthur Ephraim bought it and transformed it into a hotel. Nuwara Eliya, the town where St Andrew’s is located, was, at this time, a place many English residents of Ceylon visited to get away from the hotter weather elsewhere. The Season was from December to April with two annual race meetings, a tennis tournament, a golf tournament, a flower show, and a horse show. A hotel must have seemed like an excellent business proposition.
During World War II, Saint Andrew served as a rest and recreation center for British servicemen.
Less frivolously, after Independence in 1948, the new Sri Lankan government set up offices here to process the numerous applications for citizenship of the Indian Tamils who worked on the surrounding tea estates and had never been considered citizens of the country before.
Nowadays, tourists and Sri Lankans alike come here to relax and enjoy the calm and coolness of the hill country.
Soon, I came out to explore. In the lobby, I saw a sign that said “Tea Terrace”. That looked promising. Suitable, too, since it was just after 4 p.m. There, I met a friendly Irish couple who were finishing a magnificent afternoon tea. They invited me to join them while I had mine and we had a good chat while I tucked into an afternoon tea the likes of which I hadn’t seen since the last time I was at Fortnum and Mason in London. I almost forgot to take a picture to show you but here it is – there’s still some left.



Shortly after I finished, Carmel said, wonderingly “I’m feeling a bit cold.” I was too, so we went inside – just before it began to drizzle. Somehow that seemed appropriate.
I was sitting in my room, wondering whether I actually needed another meal that evening, when there was a knock on the door.
“Turn down service, Mum” And a pleasant young man came in to turn down the bed and strew flowers on it.



Soon, there was another knock.
“Hot water bottle, Mum.”
No!
But yes. And by the time I went to bed I was glad of it. I curled myself around it and went to sleep dreaming of horse shows, tennis tournaments, flower shows – and afternoon tea.