Traveling to Sri Lanka was one of the highlights of my year. A country that feels familiar because of its proximity to India and shared cultural traditions, yet one that I didn’t know much about prior to my trip. I picked up Shehan Karunatilaka’s Booker Prize-winning novel ‘The Seven Moons of Mali Almeida’ to acquaint myself with the country through the world of fiction. I read international news articles in the run up to my trip, and skimmed through travel blogs to make a list of things to do and see and eat. I asked friends and acquaintances for recommendations. But nothing quite prepares you to dive into a place like Sri Lanka and absorb all its complexities in a short span of time.
The North Beckons
Like most visitors, I started my journey in Colombo. The first leg of my trip was for work and I spent a day acclimatizing to the city and catching up with colleagues who had flown in from different countries. Then began an extraordinary road trip from the capital city all the way up to Jaffna, followed by Kilinochchi, Anuradhapura, Mullaitivu, Kalpitiya, and Puttalam. I was exposed to parts of the country (much of it directly affected by war) that I may not have otherwise had access to as a tourist. It also helped that we were traveling with local people who provided context to every place we visited and person we met. This is one of many reasons why I love work travel and like to balance it with leisure travel, versus too much of either.
Over the course of the week, I met a diverse set of people and organizations, listening to stories from different communities, and learning more about Sri Lankan history and politics, especially the long-lasting impact and mental, emotional, financial, and physical toll of conflict. These conversations are confidential so I won’t delve into them, but it taught me more than I can describe in words.
The Sri Lankan countryside is also so beautiful – I caught sunsets on the road, a double rainbow, and ate the most delicious food from roadside stalls. However, my favourite experience was dining with a Muslim family in Kalpitiya. They were friends of one of the local people traveling with us and cooked up a feast on our last evening in the province. In addition to the scrumptious food (which made the evening feel like Eid), I also got to take a night boat ride in the quiet backwaters. We sat in silence, watching the waves glitter under the moonlight. It was magical and a rather peaceful conclusion to what had been an intense week. The hospitality and love of our hosts (a fisherman’s family that was passionate about art and chose to pursue it despite economic challenges) amazed me, given some of us were meeting them for the first time, and reiterating that while breathtaking landscapes and great food are what we most often seek from travel, it’s always the human interactions – however fleeting – that stand out and stay with us.
Off to the Southern Coast
After a week in the North, I proceeded to the South, stopping over at Wadduwa to catch stunning sunsets and wrap up work, before proceeding to Bentota, Galle, and Unawatuna for some downtime. While Wadduwa makes for a nice and serene staycation location, Bentota is more popular with tourists and has a cleaner beach. I didn’t beach-hop, nor could I visit the much-talked about Hikkaduwa beach as it was raining, but I’ve parked it for my next trip.
An Evening with Turtles
Not far from Bentota (and many other beaches in the Southern coast) are several turtle hatcheries and conservation centers that are worth a visit. I went to one near my hotel and spent a memorable afternoon with turtles.
The conservation center was run by a local family and they charged LKR 2000 as entrance fee to see the turtles. The smallest turtles were 2 days old, while some of the older ones were blind or handicapped and unable to swim. Since they wouldn’t survive being out in the sea, the family running the center continues to take care of them. I saw a variety of turtles: olive ridley turtles, an albino turtle, and lots of green turtles (that look black). I also got to pick them up and play with them. The revenue from entrance tickets, visitor donations, and earnings from a small handicrafts shop in the premises fund the conservation center, so even a brief visit can go a long way in sustaining their work.
Galle is a Mood
Next up was a staycation in Galle. Most people said I didn’t need more than a day or two to explore it, but my gut told me to stay there for a week. I knew I would be tired after two weeks of work travel, and like Pondicherry, it seemed like a place to take things slow and explore one walk, one cafe, and one shop at a time. I was right – a week passed in no time and I still didn’t see all of Galle.
Some say that Galle – pronounced ‘gaal’ – and ‘gawl’ by the British – was named after the famous astronomer, Galileo Galilei. Others believe ‘gaala,’ which in Sinhala means the place where cattle are herded together, got its name because of the large number of bullock carts that take shelter there while traveling from remote areas of the island to the mainland. Yet another theory is that the name is derived from the Latin word ‘gallus’ or the Portuguese word ‘galo’ which means ‘rooster,’ since the Dutch used the rooster as a symbol of Galle.
Galle is a World Heritage Site and a fine example of a fortified city built by the Portuguese with elements of trademark Portuguese architecture and native traditions. It is believed to be the largest remaining fortress in Asia built by European occupiers.
Galle has also survived the massive impact of the Tsunami in 2004. Locals recall that over five thousand people were washed away within minutes at the Galle Harbour. The total death toll and overall devastation was ofcourse much more.
The streets of Galle Fort are full of boutique properties and cute cafes (it’s as touristy as it gets) and very different from the parts of Sri Lanka I had experienced prior to this. Most of my time was spent walking through the ramparts of the fort. The entire area is walkable on foot, though there are plenty of auto rickshaws available as well. Numerous boutique hotels and restaurants are located inside the fort and offer delicious local food (don’t forget to try the Sri Lankan thali and chicken kothu). In many ways, Galle felt like a cross between Pondicherry and Fort Kochi, while the food was closer to Kerala cuisine than Tamil cuisine (to my surprise). My favourite food item was Pol Sambol – a traditional Sri Lankan condiment made using coconut, shallots, dried chillies, lime, and salt. It is eaten with everything – rice, string hoppers, hoppers (appam), toast, and curries. I devoured it every chance I got and is perhaps what I miss the most about Sri Lanka.
Monsoon in the Mangroves
From Galle, I made my way to Unawatuna, where I stayed at a jungle resort of sorts. Unawatuna is a town in Southern Sri Lanka known for its coral reef and pristine, palm-lined beaches. So staying in a resort surrounded by mangroves on all sides was a bit offbeat and perhaps not the best stay option during the monsoons. Nevertheless, it was lovely – lush green, with birds chirping at all hours, and monitor lizards lurking around in the bushes. I couldn’t go around much because of the rain but the food was superb – traditional dishes made using locally-grown ingredients (albeit overpriced). I got much-needed rest before making my way back home.
Sri Lanka was an interesting experience for me — an amalgamation of contrasting interactions, people, landscapes, and situations. There’s still so much to learn about the country – I came back with several books written by Sri Lankan authors (including ‘Brotherless Night’ by V. V. Ganeshananthan). I also recently came across a poem by Tamara Dissanayake that best captures what I felt leaving Sri Lanka, so I’ll end this post on that note:
Sri Lankan Pickle
The Malays brought the pickle
And dodol black as coal
The Burghurs brought the baila
And baked their Chritsmas stol
The Tamils cut the kottu
The Chetties made a quip
The Moors stirred up their sweetmeats
And all their kindredship
The Parsees brought their brilliance
The Sinhalese, their wit —
What a feast in what a land
If they could all be knit!
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