Glancing between Google Maps and the guard in brown uniform standing before me, I tried in vain to communicate what, exactly, I was looking for.

“It’s called the Portuguese Landing Monument,” I said, pointing at the purple dot on my phone. “It should be right through here.”

The customs authority guard called over a few of his colleagues, each of whom took a look at the map, equally befuddled. It was clear nobody knew what I was talking about.

“Can I go?” I eventually asked, politely.

The group of men, several of whom wielded automatic weapons, seemed to take a second in collective thought.

“Sir,” one began. “This is high security.”

And so it was a no-go on the Portuguese Landing Monument, whose one-star rating on Google Maps piqued my curiosity. An accompanying photo appeared to show the royal Portuguese coat of arms carved into a small stone. Years ago, I’d be unsurprised if it was rather easy to access the monument — even if nobody really did. I came to this conclusion after a visit to the nearby Colombo Port Maritime Museum, which was empty and free of charge.

These days, Colombo’s port looks dramatically different than it once did — hence why I was unable to see the marker of the Portuguese landing. About two years ago, the Sri Lankan government and a Chinese company signed an agreement that has since seen a Dutch-style land expansion into what was once the Colombo port. Where harbor streets once lined the open ocean, armed guards now patrol construction sites and shipping lanes.

On my second day of searching for hints of Portuguese influence in Sri Lanka’s capital, I found myself back at the historic city center to check out a few final sights, one of them being the maritime museum. A friendly elderly man on a bicycle outside the building pointed me in, but I first asked where I could find a bottle of water. The answer, it turned out, was at the Sri Lankan navy quarters across the street, where I squeezed past officers and sailors to get to the fridge.

Once inside the museum, I was pleased to find a rather extensive display of small replica ships, maritime artifacts, and dozens of exhibits organized chronologically. Mentions of Portugal were rather abundant, which is not surprising given that Colombo’s port blossomed during the colonial era, which began in the sixteenth century with the arrival of the Portuguese.

After gathering notes and photographs at the museum, I headed to a tea room to regroup and escape the midday heat with Sievalee, one of my best friends from high school who spent our senior year studying here in Sri Lanka — and who happens to be joining me for this trip. I’m grateful to have shared some quality time already, and to have someone willing to get lost in some off the beaten path museums and side streets.

Once we felt rejuvenated, we ventured into an afternoon rain shower to head into Pettah Market, a sprawling network of shops and cart vendors with everything from backpacks and watches to produce and beauty products. I felt reminded of my semester abroad in Dakar, Senegal, whose many such markets I never really came to love. Even so, I felt invigorated as we weaved through traffic and over puddles to pop into various shops. Marketgoers were eager to make conversation, though some of the time it turned out to be tour guides with a delayed pitch strategy. I picked up a novel called Colombo, which I will read and report back on during a long train ride tomorrow.

The purpose of our visit to Pettah Market was not to get lost in its labyrinth, but to visit the Dutch House, former colonial quarters that have been converted into a museum about the century of Dutch rule in Sri Lanka. To be honest, I didn’t really expect to find much about the Portuguese here— after all, the museum’s name would indicate as much. But before even stepping foot into the museum, I was shocked at its location: right in the middle of Pettah Market’s chaos and bustle. The stately home is situated next to electronics stores and clothing outlets, and a group of men hung out on its wide front porch. At the museum’s entrance, a sign offered information about its history and restoration. Interestingly, I noted that the Dutch government helped pay for the project — a tidbit that made me curious about some of the curatorial choices in the museum.

The two-story building features exhibits about Dutch forts, furniture, and governance in Sri Lanka. As it turns out, many of the Dutch forts on the island were, of course, originally Portuguese constructions that were renovated and refurbished by the Dutch after their arrival. Wall text and maps offered ample context about dozens of individual forts, almost to the point of oversaturation, especially because many of the forts are quite similar to one another. The typical description for these structures began with a sentence about its Portuguese roots before exploring the Dutch interactions with the fort. Stay tuned: more to come on the research side about medieval Iberian fort construction. Or, if that sounds like a free dose of melatonin, at least you’ll know which sections to scroll past.

For the rest of the day, we explored some of the more well trodden sites in Colombo, like its main temple, mosque, and church, which offered an interesting study of the country's religious fabric. Beyond the beauty of the Gangaramaya Temple and the Red Mosque (photos below), St. Anthony's Church stood out to me. It was packed with parishioners who flocked to reliquaries and kneeled before altars in between chatting with priests. The church was the site of one of the 2019 Easter Sunday attacks in Sri Lanka, and a memorial at the church remembers the victims. St. Anthony's was nearly destroyed in the tragedy, but has since been rebuilt and, as I witnessed firsthand, is now host to a lively parish community. Beyond visiting the religious sites, we stopped by the Independence Memorial Museum, which provided helpful context about Sri Lanka's political development, with an emphasis on the importance of national unity. That this theme was continuously underscored is explained in part by the fact that the museum was constructed immediately following the country's devastating civil war — a reflection of nationwide efforts to foster unity and cohesion.

Spending another day in Colombo was a nice opportunity to get a first glimpse at Sri Lanka before heading out to explore the rest of the country. We finished the day with drinks at a rooftop bar overlooking the ocean, complete with a view of the Colombo sky line. Not half bad.