We arrived in the late afternoon at our Estate in the Welimada valley. As a child and living up the hill at Luckland, I had seen my father progressively plant it up from bare patana grassland, and also later had been with brother Hugh whilst he had worked on it until he had quarrelled with Father just after the war. Now for the first time I was able to see the smart new bungalow that had been built just three years earlier, and being an adult, get the feel of the place that was to be our future home. I was overjoyed to find a letter from my Jill waiting for me, and over the next few days and months was able to give her a graphic description of the sights and impressions of my new surroundings with detailed accounts of my experiences. The bungalow consisted of three large bedrooms, a large sitting room and smaller dining room ,with a further smaller two rooms for servants etc. There was a compact modern kitchen with a wood burning Rayburn cooker which also heated the hot water. In the front was a decent sized verandah leading off from the sitting room which was also the main access to the front of the house. As we sat there we faced east looking out over the rolling hills of Uva Province dominated on the right hand skyline by the Namunakula peak 6,500 ft, and further left by the distant Madulsima range of about 4,500 ft. 16 miles away, beyond which Uva dropped into the low country for a further 50 miles before reaching the coast. The garden was in all about 2 acres, and on the opposite west side Father had planted a windbreak of Jak or breadfruit trees with their dark green foliage, interspersed with a whole variety of different sorts of avocado trees. In the four years since all the trees had been planted, they were all well over twenty foot in height, such was the growth in the tropical warmth with the added benefit of the liberal artificial fertiliser drawn from the surrounding tea bushes. On the south side were tall dadap or erythrina trees with their orange- red pea like blossom. On the North Side the land plunged into a river valley with a waterfall and gorge 250 ft deep on one side of which Father had created an orchid and fern garden moistened by the misty spray of the Manawella Falls. Later when the river was in full spate after a really heavy monsoon storm, the power of the tumbling water would cause the hard igneous basalt rock to resonate to such an extent, that all the doors in our house would vibrate even though it was on a hillock about 1/4 mile away. Further North beyond the immediate falls the land rose sweeping upwards a further 2,000ft to Luckland, Allagolla and Kirklees with the peak of the Buffalo’s Hump crowning the ridge at 5,600ft high.
The drive up to the house was lined with brilliant yellow cassia multijuga trees, and we entered under a beautifully curved granite stone red and white bouganvillea arch. There was another similar one on the other side of the house, and all along the boundary of the garden was made up of a neat red hibiscus hedge, behind which were alternate Poinsettias pink and red and white grown as small trees. Immediately in front on the verandah was a reasonably sized blue grass lawn ending in a terraced haha, below which was a bed of cannas and beyond that orange, lemon and cherimoya trees. About 500 yds away on the South East was our 3 storey Tea Factory, painted a soft buff yellow with white windows . Beyond the factory and invisible all along the east of our property the land plunged almost vertically 2,000ft into the Uma Oya river gorge, where in spring and autumn huge thunderstorms would dramatically sweep up with jet black clouds and shimmering forked lightning. On either side of the lawn were two red flamboyant or poinciana trees more for soft shade than bloom, and a blue jacaranda tree. In the early morning just before 6 o’clock, the sun would rise in the east silhouetting Namunakula and would light up the remaining clouds from the night before’s rain, into the most violent flame and orange colours. As it rose, the dew on the blue grass lawn would sparkle like diamonds in the crisp cold morning air, and then there would be a whole cacophony of sound from the dadap trees full of birds feasting on the nectar of their blooms. Every sort of bird was there, from small Ceylon robins and whiteeyes, to green barbets with their large whiskery beaks, that would especially relish the jam fruit berries, but above all, the trees would be full of mynahs chattering away. They must surely be the world’s best mimickers and would copy the song of any bird from a melodious tone to the screech of parakeets that abounded on the Estate. The dawn birds and their chorus quite entranced me:
The swallow stopt as he hunted the fly,
The snake slipt under a spray,
The wild hawk stood with the down on his beak,
And stared with his foot on the prey. (Tennyson)
That first afternoon I had to be introduced to the servants, and then garlanded by them in floral necklaces of scented jasmine and bright yellow marigolds, some of whom like our cook Perian had been with me since childhood. We unpacked and had a cup of tea and I was introduced to Pixie, Hugh’s last dog that was a cross between an Alsatian, a Great Dane and an Elk Hound. It was like a huge thick set dappled brown greyhound and had a formidable reputation as a guard dog, but otherwise had a very gentle nature. Father next took me to the garage and presented me with his welcoming surprise gift, a brand new little jet black Austin A30 car which looked like a tiny beetle. I was overjoyed that I now had mobility, and next day we tried it out slowly going for a grand tour round the narrow Estate roads to our other Pussella division which was was on top of a neighbouring hill and was reached by driving through the Sinhalese Villages and their paddy fields. The tea, the roads, the terracing, and the cultivations were all immaculate. Father was an absolute perfectionist, and everything had to be just right, neat and the estate totally weed free. He explained his thoughts as we drove that first day.
“ Mike the way I look on life is that I, and you especially who has had a good education, we must both use our brains to employ others to do a job. Be very careful not to overwork and waste your time by doing minions work. They are our employees and must be treated with the greatest courtesy, politeness, respect and above all with a kind firmness. On the whole they all are willing to work hard, but they must be led by good officers who are appreciative of their weaknesses, as well as their virtues, and above all have sympathy with all their domestic problems. If things go wrong, and estates get into a mess, it is not the coolies and the staff that are responsible, it is the management and their policies that must be the first to shoulder blame. Get the management working well at managing in an intelligent and sympathetically firm way, and all the rest follows”.
