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 coastlines that look unfinished in the best possible way. Jaffna is shaped by limestone, and once you begin to notice it, everything from the caves to the wells to the quiet roads edging the sea starts to make sense.
This journey became less about ticking off sights and more about following trails that felt geological, cultural, and personal all at once.
Getting to Jaffna from Katunayake Airport
Landing at Katunayake, Sri Lanka’s main international gateway, you’re still a long way from Jaffna—but it’s a satisfying journey north.
By Train: After reaching Colombo Fort from the airport, I boarded a northbound train that slowly traded city chaos for palmyrah palms and open sky. The rhythm of the tracks gave the journey a meditative quality, and arriving at Jaffna Railway Station felt like stepping into a different tempo of life.
By Road: If you prefer flexibility, the drive north is a long but fascinating cross-section of the island. Private taxis and self-driven routes pass ancient tanks, dry-zone forests, and roadside fruit sellers who seem to exist outside time.
By Domestic Flight: For those short on time, small aircraft connect the west coast to the north, offering aerial views of lagoons and salt pans that preview the landscape ahead.
No matter how you arrive, Jaffna feels earned.
First Encounters with Limestone Country
Jaffna sits on a limestone plateau, unlike the rest of Sri Lanka. There are no rivers here. Instead, rainwater disappears underground, stored in aquifers and drawn back up through wells that dot almost every household.
My first walk through the city revealed open wells at street corners, framed with stone or concrete, often decorated with flowers. These aren’t relics, they’re alive, functional, and central to daily life. Limestone gives, and Jaffna remembers.
Exploring the Caves of Nilavarai
A short journey from the city took me to the Nilavarai caves, one of Jaffna’s most intriguing geological features. From above, it looks like an unassuming circular pit. Peer inside, and the earth opens up.
Legend says the cave has no bottom. Science says otherwise—but neither explanation dulls the sense of mystery. The water below is impossibly still, reflecting the sky like a portal rather than a pool.
Standing there, I felt like I was at the edge of Jaffna’s subconscious. The limestone here doesn’t just hold water; it holds stories.
What to do: – Walk the perimeter slowly and observe how light shifts across the opening – Talk to locals who casually recount myths older than maps – Sit quietly, this is a place that rewards stillness
The Wells That Built a Civilization
In most places, wells are utilitarian. In Jaffna, they’re architectural and social landmarks.
Some wells are circular, others square. Some are deep and shadowy, others shallow enough to glimpse the sandy bottom. Many homes still depend on them daily, drawing fresh water filtered naturally through limestone.
One afternoon, I followed a neighbourhood path that connected several wells like beads on a string. Children washed bicycles nearby. Elders chatted in the shade. It felt less like infrastructure and more like choreography.
What to see: – Traditional open wells in residential areas – Temple wells with carved stonework – Coastal wells where fresh water improbably exists near the sea.
Forgotten Coastal Paths
Jaffna’s coastline doesn’t behave like the south’s. There are no dramatic cliffs or surf breaks demanding attention. Instead, there are paths—narrow, pale, and almost apologetic—running alongside the sea.
I walked one such path near Kankesanthurai, where limestone meets salt air. The ground crunched softly underfoot. Fishermen repaired nets beside boats that looked more sculpted than built.
These coastal trails feel forgotten not because they’re abandoned, but because they don’t ask to be noticed. And that’s their charm.
What to do: – Walk early morning or late afternoon when the light is kind – Watch birds skim low over tidal flats – Let yourself get lost—paths reconnect eventually.
Kayts and the Island Edge
A short crossing brought me to Kayts Island, where the limestone narrative continues with a maritime accent. Here, the land feels thinner, more porous, as if the sea is slowly reclaiming it grain by grain.
Old churches, quiet harbors, and wind-shaped trees give the island a contemplative mood. The roads are narrow, the horizons wide.
Kayts isn’t about highlights—it’s about margins.
Temples, Forts, and Stone Memory
Jaffna Fort rises from the ground like it grew there, its coral-limestone walls glowing softly in the afternoon sun. Built, fought over, abandoned, and reclaimed, the fort is a crash course in colonial history compressed into stone.
Inside, the wind carries the smell of the sea and something older—time itself, perhaps.
Nearby temples echo this sense of endurance. Limestone foundations support vibrant rituals, proving that geology and belief are often collaborators.
Where to Stay
Jaffna offers stays that mirror its character quiet, thoughtful, and rooted.
- Heritage homes converted into guesthouses offer shaded courtyards and stories with your morning tea
- Boutique stays blend minimal design with local materials
- Family-run lodgings provide unmatched warmth and insight into daily life
Wherever you choose, you’ll likely wake to birds, bicycles, and the distant sound of water being drawn from a well.
What to Eat Along the Way
While this journey was shaped by stone, it was fueled by food. Jaffna’s cuisine is bold, fermented, fiery, and unforgettable.
From roadside snacks wrapped in paper to home-cooked meals heavy with spice and care, eating here feels like being let in on a secret.
Don’t rush meals. Jaffna doesn’t.
Practical Tips for the Limestone Trail
- Walk slowly—details emerge at a patient pace
- Carry water; the landscape is dry but deceptive
- Respect wells and sacred sites; many are still in daily use
- Engage locals—they are the best guides to hidden paths
Leaving Jaffna
When I left Jaffna, it wasn’t with the usual collection of dramatic photos. Instead, I carried textures: chalky dust on my hands, cool stone under my feet, the quiet echo of water far below ground.
The limestone trails of Jaffna don’t shout for attention. They wait.
And if you follow them through caves, past wells, and along forgotten coastal paths—you’ll find a version of Sri Lanka that doesn’t try to impress, only to endure.
That, I think, is its greatest beauty.
