There are places in Sri Lanka that feel busy even when they are quiet. And then there is Bibile — a town that seems to exist in its own unhurried pocket of time, resting at the edge of the Eastern Highlands, where the hills begin to loosen into plains and the forests...
If you’re the type of traveller who prefers the smell of damp pine needles over sea salt, and the sight of mist rolling over a tea estate over a crowded beach, then the Sri Lankan highlands are going to feel like home. This isn’t the Sri Lanka you see on postcards of...
Some places call you softly like a whisper from behind the mist. Kotmale is one of them. Tucked deep in Sri Lanka’s central highlands, this region is often overshadowed by its more famous neighbours: Nuwara Eliya, Kandy, Hatton. Travelers rush past it on winding...
Secret Trails and Forgotten Tea Estates Most people meet Hanthana from a viewpoint. They arrive mid-morning, climb a well-worn path just outside Kandy, take in the famous rolling hills, snap a few photos, and leave thinking they’ve “done” it. I thought the same—until...
I arrived in Meemure the way most people do: dusty, slightly disoriented, and with the faint suspicion that Google Maps had finally decided to prank me. The road narrowed into a suggestion rather than a promise, the signal vanished, and the mountains of the Knuckles...
If Silavathurai is defined by its refusal to announce itself, the Doric Bungalow is the exception that proves the rule, a structure that once screamed for attention and is now being silenced by the sea. Located just a short drive south of the main town, past the...
When most travellers speak about the Knuckles Mountain Range in Sri Lanka, they usually say the same things. They talk about the famous "Mini World’s End" cliffs. They talk about the thick cloud forests. They describe the skyline that looks like the knuckles of a...
I arrived in Jaffna with salt on my skin and limestone dust on my shoes, though I didn’t know it yet. The north of Sri Lanka doesn’t announce itself with lush drama or postcard waterfalls. Instead, it whispers. It’s a place of porous stone and patient wells, of...
I didn’t plan to learn the social structure of a Sri Lankan village from a boutique, but that’s how it happened. Not from a council meeting, not from a newspaper, not even from a temple sermon—but from a small roadside shop no bigger than a living room, where biscuits...
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