Hitching a ride to Hikkaduwa

The rain swept in like a thief in the night: the type of thief that pees on your sofa and does unspeakable things to your toothbrush. Once again, it was in and out in ten minutes, and once again, the authorities were powerless to prevent it.

The scene at Galle's International Stadium this morning was one of bemusement. Yesterday, two practice sessions had been allowed to take place on a lush, if moderately sodden, outfield. Today, however, the grass had quite simply been pilfered, replaced instead by the monsoon's calling card - those all-too-familiar smears of saturated mud, the type that kept an entire audience glued to their seats up at the Premadasa last week.

These days it takes more than the absence of a pitch to stop an England training session taking place. The show had to go on, as Freddie Flintoff worked on hitting the spinners over the top (to the detriment of anyone who dared walk in front of the nets) and Jimmy Anderson underwent and passed a fitness test to determine whether he stayed with the tour. And all the while the outfield sweltered in the baking heat, attempting to regain a hint of colour before the main event begins tomorrow.

As ever, the session was witnessed by all the usual suspects from the British media, but this time there were one or two intrigued extras as well. These newcomers were distinguishable by their bleached midwinter complexions and their pristine Eng-er-land sports tops - for they were the first of many a coachload of travelling supporters, freshly imported from Blighty.

In theory, they have timed their arrivals well - there can be few more enticing cricket venues in the world than Galle. The sun and sea-breezes complement each other perfectly (except, of course, in mid-pitch, where bowlers can find it a bit of a struggle for air at times), and the array of bars and beaches on offer have the potential to put the Costa del Sol in the shade. But the punters would not have been bargaining for this weather, which continues to loiter with such mal-intent.

Most of England's supporters will be strung out (literally in many cases) along the beaches of Hikkaduwa, a half-hour rickshaw ride to the north of Galle, and home to perhaps the world's most pitiful lump of coral. It is clearly visible from the roadside, which is never a good sign for such a fragile member of the eco-system, and is frantically overexploited by the reams of hotels that jostle for their share of its glory.

"Coral Sands", "Coral Rock", "Coral Sea", "Coral Beach" ... Hikkaduwa is home to all these and more. But the beauty of the town lies, quite literally, on the other side of the tracks.

The railway line, which cuts through the undergrowth at the roadside's edge, marks the boundary between the madness of the seafront and the jungle-bound haven beyond. Almost immediately, you are struck by the peace and prosperity of the town, which has developed independently of any logic, but with absolute awareness of the intricacy of its environment.

How big is Hikkaduwa? It's impossible to say. Each house that has sprung out of the jungle is perfectly masked from any other. They are linked only by random forks in the road, or enticing alleyways lined with banana leaves and palm fronds, and at dusk, as the rain begins its habitual descent, the only clue to their existence is the burbling of television sets from numerous hidden doorways.

This is a bustling community, make no mistake. The roads are smooth and well-frequented, with a regular flow of rickshaws chugging their way towards the ocean and numerous minibuses parked up in specially carved driveways. And when darkness does finally fall, white-clothed men with black umbrellas loom like woodland ghosts, lighting up the pathways like the fireflies that flicker through the forest.

Hikkaduwa may have surrendered its seafront to the trappings of mass tourism, but as yet, its heartbeat remains utterly intact. This is the sort of forest in which it is a pleasure to be rained upon. Except, of course, that is the last thing that the town's economy currently needs.