it’s dinner time and i’m craving sri lankan again. i text a few people but they’ve already dined. bummer. and sampafulhu is under the covers. i don’t fancy eating alone tonight, not during eid.

but then i get a nibble from alifulhu, remember him? we went to chef mode’s badhige a while back. he lives all the way in hulhumale. so we agree to meet in an hour – i’ll be taking the ferry, now the domain of cheap tourists and migrant workers. and myself, yes. i really like it on a calm evening though, such as this, when the ride is smooth and the boat is fanned by the breeze.

by the time alifulhu arrives i’ve already eaten half a sausage from the shop opposite the hm ferry terminal.

‘about the size of your pecker huh?’ he laughs. i shake my head.

‘where we going man?’ i ask. ‘what’s this cool sri lankan place you have in mind?’

‘you’ll see,’ he says and we don’t wander too far to stop at this massive building.

‘patio,’ i read from the sign dumbly. must be a cousin of ‘the deck.’

‘yep,’ says alifulhu and in we go. it’s a fairly swanky place with bamboo fencing and there’s even a weird driftwood sculpture in the middle with its many branches like fingers feeling up the ceiling.

we’re handed menus and there’re quite a few things in there that sound appetising. but then i see it: sri lankan roast paan with chicken curry. just what i need.

‘imagine having sri lankan food here,’ i say. ‘it feels more like an italian place.’

‘why?’ asks alifulhu.

‘it just does,’ i say.

‘you don’t really know what you’re talking about do you?’

the food arrives before i can fume too much. there are four roast paan and they all have beautiful crusts and are buttery and soft. the curry, meanwhile, is thick with spice, a little tangy and has a lovely homecooked feel and i find myself enjoying the gravy even more so than the chicken.

i wash it down with half of alifulhu’s coke zero because drinks are expensive here.

‘doesn’t it taste sweeter than normal coke?’ alifulhu asks.

‘yeah, what’s up with that?’

he goes through the ingredients.

‘doesn’t have sugar but there’s a lot of sweetner,’ he grins.

‘i feel like dessert,’ i tell him. ‘ice cream. cafeier.’

let me have a smoke first,’ says alifulhu and we pay the bill.

‘you know, something about the government selling ice cream doesn’t sit well with me,’ i tell him.

‘the government sells ice cream?’

‘yeah, ben and jerry’s from STO.’

‘huh. what’s your favourite ice cream brand,’ he asks.

‘i love baskin robbins but i haven’t had it in a while.’

‘how come?’

‘they’ve disappeared.’

‘hmm,’ says alifulhu and asks me to hop behind him.

after we ride through a swathe of hulhumale, i say: ‘we don’t seem to be going towards cafeier.’

‘i know a shortcut, it just seems very counterintuitive.’ he says.

‘OK.’ i say, still feeling a bit strange.

and we ride through many alleys and take several turns before he stops. and right in front of us is a baskin robbins!

‘you loveable bastard,’ i cry. ‘thank you thank you thank you.’

and we cap off our evening with two scoops each of mississippi mud and almond praline.