The Story of Lion Rock - by Tre

   Towering over the Sri Lankan jungle, a massive plateau juts out of the otherwise flat landscape. Originally a lava plug from a long gone volcano, this imposing rock has become an integral part of Sri Lankan history.

    Sigiriya, which is Sinhalese for Lion Rock, has been through many stages throughout history. It has gone from a monastery older than Jesus to the impenetrable fortress of a usurper king, back again to a monastery before being mysteriously abandoned and consumed by the jungle. It was an absolutely amazing place to visit, even if it did mean dragging ourselves up steep staircases in one-hundred degree heat.

    This ancient monolith seems to draw one towards it, and it has been gathering people for thousands of years. There is evidence that the caves and outcroppings around Sigiriya have been used as shelters by Buddhist monks and ascetics since the 3rd century BCE, and archeological studies have found that human habitation of the site is even older, dating back some 5000 years. 

    During the 3rd century BCE, organized monasteries were established. Most still lived in caves, making carvings in drip ledges and painting elaborate frescoes that can still be seen today. The monastery was used for nearly a thousand years by buddhist monks as a place for meditation and reflection before a newly crowned emperor took it for an entirely new purpose.

    Kashyapa I, the Sri Lankan (Anuradhapuran) king's son, made a further contribution to Sigiriya's rich history. Being the second son, and by a non-royal consort, made the likelihood of his ascending the throne very unlikely. Kashyapa decided to take matters into his own hands, killing his father in a coup and exiling his brother, Moggallana, to southern India. Kashyapa was concerned by the potential of retribution from his brother, the rightful heir, so he moved Sri Lanka's capital from Anuradhapura to the much more defendable Sigiriya. Its vertical cliffs and long lines of sight made for the perfect natural stronghold. He built an intricate citadel atop the plateau, adding further fortifications to make Sigiriya nearly impregnable.

    A large city sprung up around the base of the plateau, and extensive gardens full of fountains and pools were added around the road approaching the city. These are now believed to be the oldest gardens in the world. Historians believe that the entire western wall of the plateau was covered with frescoes of some 500 beautiful women, of which only those sheltered by caves and outcroppings remain. On a small plateau on the side of Sigiriya, a giant lion sculpture was built, with the main entrance to the citadel climbing between the its front paws and through the lion's mouth. Of the magnificent sculpture that gave Sigiriya its name, only the massive paws endure.

    Despite Kashyapa's attempts to exile his brother, Moggallana managed to raise an army in India and bring it to Sri Lanka. He surrounded his brother's nigh impenetrable fortress, cutting off supply lines and routes of escape. Kashyapa's army clashed with his brother's, and he himself led the charge on his mighty war elephant. However, according to folklore and histories of the period, when Kashyapa turned his elephant for a strategic advantage (or in some stories to avoid a puddle of mud), his army thought it was a sign for retreat. They turned around, abandoning him. It is said that Kashyapa was too proud to surrender, instead he proudly and confidently raised his dagger, slit his own throat, and sheathed it before falling over dead.

After his brother's defeat, Moggallana converted Sigiriya yet again into a monastery, and returned to Anuradhapura to reestablish the traditional capital as the rightful heir of the Anuradhapuran Kingdom. 

Sigiriya's monastery lasted for almost another thousand years, but eventually it was abandoned for reasons unknown. The jungle swallowed the fortress, and the elements slowly stripped it of the vast majority of its beautiful frescoes. No records have been found of Sigiriya during this era until the 16th and 17th centuries, when it briefly served as a temporary outpost of The Kandian Kingdom. A short time later, Sigiriya was once more deserted until it was found in 1831 by a British major, Jonathan Forbes, while on an elephant hunt. He and his team explored some of the lower areas but were forced to turn back due to heat and exhaustion. In 1833, Forbes returned with another expedition to explore Sigiriya, and the first real archeological excavations of the site occurred in 1895.

Today, Sigiriya has provided archeologists and historians with much new information about the time period and the city itself. The remaining frescoes, hidden in caves and under overhangs, are in a style entirely unique to Sigiriya. A unique gallery known as the Mirror Wall was inscribed with ancient graffiti by visitors from as far away as Persia, during Sigiriya's second period as a monastery. Apparently, the tradition was to scratch messages and poems onto the wall, which are now a source for much of our information on the fortress/monastery.

At the end of the day, Sigiriya's history provides a very interesting story, but not nearly as interesting as exploring the place itself. I urge any readers to visit it if they ever find themselves in Sri Lanka, and who knows, you might even meet a grumpy snake charmer!

The path to Sigiriya lead through beautiful gardens and dry fountains, with the ancient fortress looming over it all.

The huge paws at the lion gates were very impressive—I so wish that I could have seen the statue when it                                                                            was whole.

A variety of staircases helped us circumvent Sigiriya's unscalable walls, from ancient stone flights to newly laid brick stairs—plus some extremely rickety metal staircases barely attached to the cliff face on the steeper sections.

Victorious upon the completion of Sigiriya's very last stair—supposedly located in the place where King Kashyapa's throne once stood

Monkeys ran up many of the stairs and lounged on sun warmed rocks. They were definitely not afraid of humans. But do not touch their tails—they don't take kindly to it. Dad learned that one the hard way.

At the bottom of Sigiriya there was a sort of market that had sprung up to take advantage of the large number of tourists. There we found an amateur (and slightly crabby) snake charmer whose cobra bit him multiple times (luckily it had been defanged) and made a break for it at the end of the show, slithering several feet away from its basket before the charmer grabbed it again, putting up with several more bites as he did. We had a great video of the whole thing but Google has completely let Blogger fall into disrepair and the platform is barely usable, so videos are very hard to add. Oh, and that crate I'm sitting on, that's the same crate that he pulled three Sri Lankan pythons out of, including the one curled around my neck.