Reaching the top of an ancient rock fortress in Sigiriya. Photo / Supplied
Fragrant curries, quiet beaches and the warmest welcome from friendly locals; Sri Lanka is an island full of surprises, writes Ash Jurberg.
The humidity hits as soon as we step out of Colombo airport. Amid the crowd of drivers and families, I spot him instantly. Ruwan grins, arms open wide, despite us being strangers. A month prior, I posted on TripAdvisor for guide recommendations; his name kept coming up. Now he’s here, greeting us like old friends.
I’ve been to 110 countries, so finding somewhere genuinely new takes effort, but Sri Lanka ticked that box plus the ones for good weather during July and affordable. Several people recommend Ruwan. He responds to my email within hours with suggestions beyond the obvious tourist stops. For US$800, he’ll drive us for ten days in a luxury van built for ten people, covering all transport, guiding, plus his own accommodation and meals.
That enthusiasm from the airport greeting doesn’t fade. Early in the trip, Ruwan pulls over at a roadside fruit stand and beckons us to join him. He’s picking through mangoes, holding different varieties up for us to see.
“Sri Lanka has more than 50 types,” he says, handing them around. “This one is my favourite.”
We bite into them, and juice runs down my chin and onto my T-shirt. My family laughs as making a mess is a common occurrence for me. I look around for something to clean up with. Like a magician, Ruwan pulls a wet wipe from his pocket, still smiling.
Later, Ruwan asks where we want to go for lunch. “A tourist restaurant or one where the locals go?” The choice is obvious. He takes us to a small place with plastic chairs and no menu. Over curry and tea, he tells us he eats here whenever he’s in the area.
The food surprises me. I don’t handle heavy spice well, and before arriving, I worry I’ll be reduced to the embarrassment of asking for Western food. But every curry tastes different. Dosas for breakfast. Hoppers with egg. Kottu roti at the small local places Ruwan recommends. Ten days of one cuisine usually feel repetitive. In Sri Lanka, every dish tastes new. Even my teenagers eat everything.
At Dambulla Cave Temple, maybe 20 other visitors wander through, mostly Sri Lankan families. Nobody rushes us along. At Sigiriya, we climb the ancient rock fortress at dawn without elbowing through crowds for photos. When market vendors offer samples, they smile when we decline. No hard sell follows us down the street.
Sri Lanka keeps surprising us: ancient rock fortresses at dawn, misty mountain tea plantations, the backpacker buzz of Ella, and Portuguese-era architecture in Galle that feels unlike anywhere else in the country.
We transfer into an open-top jeep at Minneriya National Park with a park guide who navigates the terrain like it’s his backyard. It probably is. Across dry grassland, we spot herds of elephants scattered across the landscape. We get close enough for the obligatory selfies, but keep a safe distance. I don’t want to make headlines: ‘Dumb tourist eaten by elephant.’
For two hours, we watch them eat, bathe, and play. Two young males start fighting, pushing and shoving. One eventually backs down and moves away. My son Thomas sits forward in his seat, digital SLR camera clicking. It feels like watching a David Attenborough documentary live.
We spend a few quiet days at beaches, walking along the sand without seeing hundreds of beach bars or touts selling caps, bracelets, or massages. The beaches feel empty in a way that’s increasingly rare in Asia. It’s a relief from the full moon parties and bucks nights that have taken over much of the continent.
The train ride from Kandy to Ella becomes a highlight for different reasons. We walk along carriages, hang out the doors, watching tea plantations blur past. The onboard café sells bottles of Lion, the popular Sri Lankan beer, for less than $2. We’re relaxed, taking photos, enjoying ourselves. Meanwhile, Ruwan’s driving our vehicle to Ella so it’s there when we arrive. The contrast reminds me that while we’re having fun, he’s working.
That realisation makes what happens next feel significant. Partway through the trip, Ruwan asks if we mind a detour.
“I’d really like you to meet my family,” he says.
We pull into his town just as his kids come home from school. They’re shy but curious, asking my teenage twins about home. Ruwan walks us through his neighbourhood, pointing out where he buys groceries, the local temple, and the school his kids attend.
The visit lasts 45 minutes. Driving away, I think about the dozens of guides I’ve had across Asia: professional, friendly, helpful, with relationships that always stayed within clear boundaries. This feels different, more like friendship than transaction.
Later, I ask him about tourism in Sri Lanka. He tells me they’re rebuilding after years of civil war and political upheaval.
“We’re very keen for visitors,” he says. “We want to show people our country.”
That eagerness shows everywhere. People seem glad to see visitors, not weary of them. There aren’t yet enough tourists for fatigue to set in. The infrastructure exists with good roads, decent accommodation, and widely spoken English. We stay in small guesthouses and boutique hotels that remain affordable. But the country hasn’t been overwhelmed.
On our last night, we’re sitting on the old Dutch fort walls in Galle, watching the sun set over the Indian Ocean. Cricket matches unfold on the grass below. Kids fly kites. The twins are scrolling through photos, debating which curry was better, and whether the elephants or the train ride wins.
Ten days give us a glimpse of this small island. We will return. There are more temples to climb, beaches to walk, and curries to try. And another 49 varieties of mango. Next time I’m bringing a bib.
SRI LANKA
Getting There
Fly from Auckland to Colombo with a stopover in Melbourne, Singapore, Kuala Lumpur, or Hong Kong.
Visas
New Zealand passport holders will need a visa to enter Sri Lanka. Tourist visas valid for 30 days cost US$50 and can be applied for online.
The writer travelled at their own expense.