Letter from Galle Fort – New Year’s Eve among the ramparts

Galle Fort on New Year’s Eve,

The beloved streets—

all lit up,

Glam and festive.

Scores of visitors,

In a crazy whirl of fashions,

Pass by as we sit

At Pedlar’s Inn Gelato.

50 Church Street—

Our home for the next three days.

Colonial, with a courtyard and all,

Quiet, mysterious,

Like an elegant dame.

The sunlit alcove by the window

Ushering in cool winds at dawn

And treating us to a view of

Red cobbled roof tiles and skyline.

Minute by tuk-tuk for lunch,

And then to the fairy-tale trove

Of Orchid House—

Treasures and trinkets galore.

Three hours later,

We step outside;

Our hearts still

Wandering within.

The ramparts again,

Majestic as ever,

And our old friend—

The gleaming clock tower.

We wander, hand in hand,

Hearts dancing,

Souls singing.

Five and twenty minutes to twelve,

We are at the Dutch Courtyard,

Waiting, waiting

For the seconds

To usher in the New Year.

2026!

Fireworks, dancing, cheers, and wishes.

The lovely Fort

Alive with light, laughter,

And a thousand footsteps.

From the island's heat and hush, until the next letter,

-N