Table of Contents
Travel to Sri Lanka
Mumbai Mayhem to Colombo Calm: Our Whirlwind Entry into Sri Lanka
Our journey to Sri Lanka began at Heathrow, with a bonus stop in Mumbai—because who doesn’t love an unplanned pre-holiday holiday?
We stayed overnight at the Niranta Transit Hotel (Terminal 2), which is inside the airport. Yes, you read that right—no shuttles, no taxis, just a short walk from baggage claim to bed. For £66 (booked on Booking.com), we got a clean and comfy twin room with breakfast, perfect for recharging after the long-haul leg. Breakfast was decent, and the biggest perk? Not having to battle through Mumbai traffic at 2 a.m.
Speaking of Mumbai Airport: it’s an experience. Picture lots of people wandering around looking lost, security lines that zigzag like a theme park ride, and not enough signage to guide even the most seasoned traveller. Chaos—but with samosas.
Onward to Sri Lanka
We flew to Colombo with IndiGo, spending £215 return (booked direct), which got us 35kg of luggage, extra legroom in the front row, and an airline meal (a sandwich and a soft drink—but we weren’t expecting fine dining). It was surprisingly pleasant, and before we knew it, we’d landed in Sri Lanka. Flight time is 2 hours and 35 minutes.
We grabbed an Uber (yes, they’re a thing in Colombo—and super affordable) and headed to our hotel: The Kingsbury.
The Kingsbury: Colonial Glam Meets Poolside Paradise
If Colombo was bustling, The Kingsbury was its calm, elegant counterpart. This 5-star hotel is perfectly located near the Galle Face Green, the Dutch Hospital precinct, and the ocean promenade. Think: luxury without the snobbery.
We booked through Agoda for £71 a night, which included a generous buffet breakfast that offered everything from Sri Lankan hoppers to fluffy pancakes and freshly made omelettes. Honestly, we’ve stayed in pricier places with far sadder sausages.
The pool is the hotel’s crown jewel—a large, palm-fringed beauty with plenty of loungers, a lovely breeze, and excellent poolside service. The drinks are surprisingly cheap for a luxury hotel—£2 for a beer, £2.50 for a cider, and cocktails that won’t destroy your holiday budget. Yes, they add a service charge, but it still feels like happy hour all day.
The rooms were spacious and stylish, with comfy beds, modern bathrooms, and views of either the city or the Indian Ocean (ours had both!). There’s even a pillow menu—because why not sleep like royalty?
Service was warm and professional, with doormen who somehow always remembered our names, and staff who seemed genuinely happy we were there (or were just really convincing).
We arrived, unpacked, and immediately headed to the pool to decompress. One cocktail later, we were already contemplating extending the stay.
Dinner in the Sky… Eventually
That night, we’d booked an all-you-can-eat buffet at the rotating restaurant on top of the Lotus Tower, via Viator—£50 for two people. Sounded amazing. But when we arrived? No sign of our host, no booking on file, and no clue what was going on. After 40 awkward minutes and a few frantic calls, we were finally let in.
The restaurant was stunning, the food was phenomenal, and the 360° revolving views of Colombo at night were unforgettable. Only downside? We later found out we could’ve walked in and paid just £16 each. Ah well. At least the buffet was worth every penny—and the confusion.
Pro tip: the restaurant rotates slowly, so you’ll probably forget where your seat is. We did. Twice.
We also went to the Lotus Tower during the day to get the views in daylight. The views did not disappoint.
Tuk Tuk-ing Through Colombo: Culture, Chaos & Curry
The next day, we’d booked a Tuk Tuk city tour, because nothing screams “authentic experience” like clinging to a three-wheeled vehicle while weaving through Colombo traffic at the speed of mild panic. The tour also included lunch at a local restaurant—which thankfully came after the bumpy bits.
Here’s what we saw, bumped into, or almost drove past too quickly:
🛕 Temple of Sri Kailawasanathan Swami Devathanam Kovil
Try saying that after a Lion beer. This is Colombo’s oldest Hindu temple, tucked away near the port. It’s colourfully painted, full of intricate statues of deities, and smells like incense, coconuts, and mystery. A peaceful oasis in the middle of city mayhem.
🌳 Viharamahadevi Park
Colombo’s answer to Central Park (minus the hotdog carts), this green escape is great for a stroll or just to remember what quiet feels like. There’s a giant golden Buddha statue, fountains, and lots of families enjoying the shade. We didn’t do the swan pedal boats, but the temptation was real.
🏛 Sri Lanka’s White House
Not to be confused with Washington, D.C. This is actually Colombo’s Town Hall, an elegant white colonial building that really does resemble the U.S. version. No president inside, but a very enthusiastic security guard who offered to take our photo.
🗿 DS Senanayake Monument
This towering statue honours Sri Lanka’s first Prime Minister. It’s one of those “snap a pic from the Tuk Tuk” stops, but it was great to learn about someone who helped shape modern Sri Lanka—between near-death tuk tuk swerves.
🛕 Gangaramaya (Vihara) Buddhist Temple
A must-visit. Part temple, part museum, part “I did not expect to see a vintage Rolls-Royce here.” It’s an eclectic place with Buddhist relics, ornate shrines, and a surprising number of random antique donations. Shoes off, cameras out, inner peace optional.
🕌 Red Mosque (Jami Ul-Alfar Mosque)
Absolutely stunning. Built in the early 1900s, this iconic mosque in Pettah is a red-and-white striped masterpiece that looks like a giant candy cane. We didn’t go inside, but it’s mesmerising from the street—just watch out for traffic while you’re staring.
🛍 Pettah Market
A buzzing, chaotic maze of narrow lanes and stalls selling everything from spices and saris to phone chargers and pineapples. It’s loud, colourful, and slightly overwhelming—but definitely worth a wander if you don’t mind a bit of crowd-dodging.
🏛 Independence Memorial Hall
Set in a tranquil park, this monument celebrates Sri Lanka’s independence from British rule in 1948. The hall is grand and pillared, with stone lions standing guard. A peaceful spot to reflect—or recover from market-induced sensory overload.
🍛 Curry Pot – where all the locals eat
We love to always eat where the locals eat—and in Colombo that meant heading to Curry Pot on Marine Drive. This bustling rice‑and‑curry spot was packed, thanks to its rock‑bottom prices (about 200–400 LKR per plate, ~£1–£2!) and massive variety of dishes. With so many unfamiliar curries on offer, we played it safe by going for the ones we recognised—but we still soaked up the vibrant atmosphere and local hustle.
Street Food Tour
We booked the excursion through Viator at a cost of £50 for both of us. Our tuk-tuk chauffeur picked us up from The Kingsbury just after dusk and whisked us from one sizzling street stall to the next. First up: bittara/battara appa— Sri Lankan egg hoppers that are basically coconut-laced pancakes with a sunny-side-up egg in the middle. Think lil’ breakfast bowls of wonder.
Then came the serious stuff—crab curry, roti, rice, kebab, string hoppers, and flaky fish patties made from tiny fish (tuna or mackerel), served at a seaside stall amid fairground rides and families having the time of their lives.
By the end, we waddled back to The Kingsbury, utterly stuffed yet nothing could stop us heading to the Sky Lounge bar on the roof. We bumped into a friendly couple we’d chatted with earlier, so naturally we polished off ciders, beers, cocktails until—surprise—they officially closed at midnight. But the weekend vibes kept it going till 2 AM.
The Great Uber Adventure & Beach Bag Brilliance
We hailed an Uber the next day for a whopping £30—a bargain for a two-hour roller-coaster ride from Colombo to Ahungalla. We pulled up at around 11 AM… only to be told our room wasn’t ready yet. But fear not—we came prepared, fully swim-suited and armed with a cleverly packed beach bag. Bonus: no SPF mishaps! We were granted full resort passes right away, so we hit the pools like champs.
🌊 Sea-View Room Bliss
Once our room pinged “ready” via the hotel app, we toddled up to our balcony. Cue dreamy waves crashing soundtrack, perfect for psychoanalysing whether the sea was metaphorically rough or literally too rough to swim in (spoiler: literally too rough, but great for dramatic walks).
🏊♀️ Pools & Prosecco (Almost)
The Riu has several pools: child-friendly ones (read: chaos magnets) and an adults-only haven—pure bliss when the heat hit “volcano mode.”
🍽️ Dining Delights: Riu Sri Lanka’s Trio of Specialty Restaurants
During our stay, we indulged in all three a‑la‑carte gems at Riu Sri Lanka—each with its own vibe, plus one more clarifier on where the BBQ magic happens:
🥢 Kaori – Asian Flavours
Travel Asia without leaving the resort! Kaori’s elegant, minimalist décor sets the stage for a journey through Chinese, Korean, Japanese, Thai, and Sri Lankan dishes. Highlights included delicate dumplings, fragrant Thai curries, sushi-style bites, and vibrant stir-fries. The menu rotates each night, so every visit felt like a surprise trip—perfect for those who don’t want to wear a passport. Reservations are a must via the app.
🍝 La Forchetta – Italian Comfort
Picture a cozy trattoria—but inside a grand Sri Lankan resort. Here we enjoyed a buffet of antipasti and desserts, followed by freshly made mains: creamy pastas, thin-crust pizzas, and seafood dishes that leaned Mediterranean. The atmosphere was warm, the portion sizes generous, and the vibe quintessentially ‘mama-made’ Italian—only no guilt afterward.
🔥 Saute – Indoor BBQ Steakhouse
Here’s the correction: Saute isn’t beachside anymore—it’s located inside, at the far end of the buffet restaurant’s main dining area. That’s right: behind the buffet stations, past the live-cooking zones, lies the smoky, flame-grilled heaven of Saute. It’s air-conditioned, intimate, and a carnivore’s dream, featuring sizzling steaks, grilled seafood, and charred vegetables. You get the BBQ charm without sandy steak sprinklers. Reservations via app encouraged.
🛌 Room & Refresh Service
Our room? Daily deep-cleaned, decorated with towel magic (swans, dogs—you name it!), modern décor, soft drinks and water refilled like clockwork. Housekeeping earned hero status.
🌴 Beachside Rambles
Beach was ideal for sunset sprints—er, leisurely ambling. Swimming? Nope—currents said hello and we said bye. Still, the sand and scenery made up for it.
🌜 Evenings at Riu Sri Lanka: Quiet on the Set 🍸
By our third night at Riu Sri Lanka, we realised evenings were… a bit too chill for our taste. By about 11 PM, most guests had vanished—lights out, probably dreaming of tomorrow’s buffet. The nightly shows were cute (think 45-minute dance numbers and a band), but they wrapped up faster than our cocktails—likely because it was the end of the season and foot traffic was low.
Still, daytime entertainment more than made up for it. The swim-up pool bar (Flamingos) was great and we spent hours clinking glasses with fellow travellers. The bartenders were absolute legends—they’d whip you almost any cocktail as long as they had the ingredients; otherwise, they’d give you something close enough.
So yeah, nights were quieter than we expected—but if you want to party, dip by the pool bar early, make friends fast, and enjoy impromptu cocktail experiments and banter with new pals.
Sun, Spice, and Slight Monkey Mischief
One morning, in the grand tradition of tourists who can’t say no to “special price, just for you,” we were accosted by a very enthusiastic local selling excursions on the beach. After some intense bargaining (which mostly involved us pretending to walk away and him dramatically lowering the price), we scored ourselves a river safari for £25 a head. A deal! We told our London comrades, and they were in quicker than you can say “free welcome drink.”
The next morning, we all met after breakfast, full of omelettes and ambition. Two tuk-tuks awaited us, possibly held together with optimism and duct tape. We zipped through the town, wind in our hair, narrowly missing several chickens and at least one very unimpressed cow, before arriving at a modest riverbank and a rickety-looking boat.
Once afloat, the view was magic. We drifted to where the river kisses the ocean – a scene so serene it felt like we’d floated into a travel brochure. Then we turned and cruised further inland where the real adventure began. We spotted birds that would make David Attenborough weep, crocodiles pretending to be logs, and giant monitor lizards (locals call them Kabaragoya, we called them “nope”).
Then came the monkeys. These weren’t your typical aggressive banana-snatching types. Oh no, these guys were refined. Gentle, even. They daintily took food from our hands like little furry aristocrats. It was delightful — and mildly terrifying.
Next stop: a spice and plant garden, where a cheerful guide walked us through nature’s medicine cabinet. “This plant helps digestion, this one helps with hair growth, this one fixes heartbreak…” Okay, maybe not the last one, but he seemed confident about everything.
Then came the massage. We were each shown to what looked like a medieval stone slab — but comfier, somehow. For about 30–40 minutes we were oiled, kneaded, and massaged into oblivion. We tipped the masseurs 1000 rupees (about £2.50) which felt criminally cheap for the amount of shoulder bliss we received.
Inevitably, they funneled us into the spice shop afterwards. It wasn’t a hard sell, but we all felt like we owed them at least a bottle of cinnamon-infused tiger balm. So we obliged.
The cultural leg of the journey took us to the Kande Vihara Hindu temple. Our guides, Yogesh and Madhu — originally from India — took charge, explaining everything as we nodded sagely and tried not to trip over our own flip-flops. The temple itself was stunning — all golds and reds and towering deities. A feast for the eyes and the soul (and our phones, which were now full of “accidentally spiritual” selfies).
Finally, we made our way to a turtle sanctuary. Now, I’m not sure if the turtles were particularly thrilled to see us — the place had seen better days — but the guide was incredibly passionate. He assured us they only handled the turtles when necessary and aimed to release as many as possible back into the wild. We even got to hold one-day-old turtles, which were adorable little flippers of pure chaos. One managed to nick me with its shell. Yes, I was bested by a turtle. Humbling.
With the sun now firmly overhead, we tuk-tuk’d back to the hotel, where we immediately dove into the pool like overheated Labradors and ordered cocktails to rehydrate (science).
Goodbye Cocktails, Hello Crocodiles: Off to Tissamaharama and Yala Safari
After an incredible week of sun, sangria (okay, mostly mojitos), and strategic buffet sprints at the Riu Sri Lanka, it was time to trade in the all-inclusive luxury for something a bit more… wild. Our next stop? Tissamaharama — try saying that after three poolside piña coladas — for a one-night stay ahead of our highly anticipated safari at Yala Game Reserve.
Now, getting there was a bit of a trek — about 2.5 hours by car — so we booked a transfer through Booking.com for £81. Not bad considering that price barely covers a cab ride across London these days. Plus, we weren’t about to sacrifice our last day of buffet bliss, so we cheekily scheduled the pick-up for 6pm. Priorities.
We arrived at our hotel, Elephant Eye, a little later than planned, and given we’d snagged the room for just £20 a night through Agoda, we weren’t exactly expecting five-star extravagance. Maybe a bed, a lightbulb, and hopefully no mysterious stains.
But lo and behold — it was actually lovely! We were greeted warmly at reception, handed keys with great ceremony, and watched with equal parts admiration and guilt as two staff members wrestled our suitcases up a flight of stairs like absolute champions.
The room? Spotless. Comfy bed, working air con, decent shower, and — the true mark of modern civilization — Wi-Fi. We were genuinely impressed. For twenty quid, we were expecting something closer to a cupboard with a fan.
After dropping our bags, we were asked if we’d like something to eat. “Absolutely,” we said, remembering we hadn’t eaten in at least three hours. We were shown to the restaurant, ordered some noodles and drinks, and ended up with a bill of just £12 total. At this rate we were considering staying a week and starting a noodle-based retirement plan.
The hotel also had a swimming pool that looked pretty inviting, even by moonlight — but alas, no midnight dips for us. We had a 4:30 AM wake-up call looming, and the only thing wilder than the safari animals was the idea of getting up that early without coffee.
Yala Game Reserve
Our alarms went off at the delightful hour of 4:00 AM — because apparently, that’s what it takes to see nature at its wildest. By 4:30, we were bumping down a dusty road in a jeep, clutching our water bottles like precious cargo and questioning our life choices. There was already a solo traveller in the back, who greeted us in perfect English with the kind of energy only someone used to early mornings can muster. We smiled back in that “we’re not awake yet but trying to be polite” kind of way.
Now, rather than heading straight to Yala Game Reserve, we first embarked on a scenic — if slightly chaotic — hour-long detour to pick up several more passengers. Our driver, bless him, seemed to believe he was auditioning for Sri Lanka’s Next Top Rally Driver. Corners were optional, potholes were ignored, and speed bumps were taken as if we were airborne stuntmen. Seatbelts? Decorative.
Eventually, we reached the entrance to Yala, where we joined a long line of other jeeps also eager to hunt (with cameras, of course) for the park’s famous residents — particularly the ever-elusive sloth bear and the legendary Sri Lankan leopard. When the gates finally opened, the jeeps scattered like confetti, each driver zooming off in a different direction with the same collective dream: “LEOPARD!”
Not long after entering, we struck gold — in elephant form. Huge, majestic, and wonderfully uninterested in us, they lumbered past with all the elegance of giant grey royalty. Soon after, a troop of monkeys swung onto the scene, clearly delighted to show off their acrobatics. It was like being in a live-action Disney movie — minus the musical numbers.
We also spotted a wide range of birds (so many birds), crocodiles lurking suspiciously in the water, deer nibbling nervously at grass, and even a mongoose, which scurried past looking like it was late for something important. But no sign of a leopard. Or a sloth bear. They were clearly off having a lie-in. Lucky them.
By 11:25 AM, the heat was turned up to full “sweaty British tourist” level, and we arrived at the designated lunch stop — a clearing by the sea with strict signs warning us not to walk too far in any direction due to, you know, wild animals potentially lurking in the bushes. So we stood around awkwardly, eyeing the ocean from a safe distance and trying not to look too edible.
Lunch was served around noon by our guide, who whipped out a Tupperware of chicken, rice, potatoes, and some fresh fruit like a magician with a picnic. It hit the spot — even if we did feel slightly like schoolkids on a very intense field trip. We polished it off by 12:30, ready and eager to get back on the trail. But no. We were told we couldn’t leave until 1:00. Something about regulations, rest time, or maybe the universe just testing our patience. Either way, we sat around, slowly melting into our seats and practicing the ancient art of swatting flies with dignity.
Once we were finally allowed back on safari, it was game on again. The afternoon mission was clear: find that damn leopard. We ventured to every possible leopard hotspot, driving in silence like wildlife ninjas, eyes darting, cameras poised, breath held.
Then — excitement crackled through the radio. Our driver perked up. A leopard sighting had been reported.
Cue dramatic music.
Without hesitation, our driver took off like he’d just been told the last leopard on earth was giving autographs. In his haste, he launched us down a large ditch — one that happened to be full of water — but didn’t seem to check what was in it. The jeep hit something solid, and every single passenger was launched forward like a scene out of a budget action movie. Two people hit their heads on the front of the jeep, and we smashed into the seat ahead. Three of us ended up with minor injuries — myself included, having stylishly bitten through my lip (a look, I assure you).
On the bright side, we did get to see the leopard. The not-so-bright side? There were about 400 other jeeps there too. It was like a very dusty, very loud traffic jam… with a big cat in the middle, looking entirely unimpressed. Eventually, a ranger turned up and started shooing some of the jeeps away — probably to stop the leopard from applying for witness protection.
Luckily, our driver decided to leave the chaos behind and take us elsewhere — and, as luck would have it, we stumbled across another leopard, lounging in the open like a feline celebrity. This one wasn’t fazed at all by the jeeps or clicking cameras. He gave us a brief pose, blinked slowly, and continued his afternoon chill session like we weren’t even there.
Leopard dreams achieved, we moved on to the next mission: Sloth Bear or bust. We headed to a quieter area where they’re occasionally spotted. We were the only jeep around, which was either a good sign… or proof that everyone else had already given up. Still, we waited patiently, eyes peeled, and just when we were starting to lose hope — there it was. A sloth bear, deep in the trees, doing its mysterious bear thing. A glimpse, yes, but totally worth the wait.
With that, and a collection of bumps, bruises, and about a thousand blurry photos, we headed back to the hotel — dusty, tired, slightly broken, but absolutely thrilled.
Matara – Beach Inns
The following day, it was time to pack up our bags (again) and head off to the next chapter of our Sri Lankan escapade. We summoned an Uber — which turned up surprisingly on time — and set off towards Beach Inns, Matara. The journey was about 1 hour and 45 minutes, and at £32, it felt like a pretty good deal. Especially when you factor in the driver’s taste in questionable but enthusiastic 90s pop playlists.
On arrival, we were greeted by the kind of view that makes you immediately forget the stress of blocked toilets and repacking suitcases — beachfront perfection. Beach Inns is right on the shore, and we were quickly shown to our room. Now, considering we’d only paid £87 for three nights (total!), we weren’t expecting five-star decadence… but we were actually quite impressed. The room was clean, relatively comfy, and the mosquito nets were a welcome touch — especially as the local mosquito population seemed to be holding some sort of reunion party.
Storage was minimal, so we engaged in the classic holiday tradition of “strategic pile organisation” — clothes on the chair, shoes under the bed, toiletries absolutely everywhere. A minor hiccup when the toilet decided it had had enough of functioning properly, but to be fair, the staff had it fixed in record time. Full marks for response time.
The real highlight, though? The view from the balcony. Not only were we treated to golden sands and the sound of waves crashing romantically in the background — we also saw turtles swimming in the sea. From our balcony. Actual turtles. Living their best lives. We took this as a sign that we, too, were in the right place.
The hotel is in a prime spot — just a short stroll from the beach, and surrounded by a decent mix of bars and restaurants. Although the hotel did have its own restaurant, we didn’t get around to trying it (mainly because once we found Shima Guni, we basically moved in).
Shima Guni is a restaurant/bar just a short walk away, perched right above the sea with a view that makes every meal taste better. The food? Solid. The service? Friendly and fast. The prices? Very reasonable. And if the ocean breeze starts giving you “wind tunnel chic,” they’ve got another section tucked away with indoor seating, a small pool, and a balcony where you can sip cocktails and feel smug about your life choices.
Since we were visiting in mid-April, we were hitting that just-before-the-end-of-season vibe — so a lot of places were a little on the quiet side. But Shima Guni still had a great atmosphere. Good music, cold drinks, friendly faces — basically everything you need for a solid evening out. And let’s not forget the cocktails. Delicious. Dangerous. Far too drinkable. It’s no wonder we ended up there frequently. Possibly too frequently, depending on who you ask.
Dolphin and Whale Safari
The next day, bright and painfully early, we set off for what we hoped would be an unforgettable dolphin and whale safari — booked through Viator at £40 each. Yes, there were cheaper options floating around (literally), but this particular tour had glowing reviews about being respectful to the animals, not chasing them around like they owed us rent, so we were sold.
We organised a tuk-tuk pick-up via our hotel — hats off to the driver who was chipper and ready at 5:30am, while we were still debating whether this was a good life choice. We arrived at the tour operator’s office by 6am, looking slightly dazed but on time (always a win), and were promptly taken to our boat. A soft drink was handed to us — which we accepted like it was champagne — and we sat, watching the sky begin to lighten as the rest of the passengers trickled in.
Just before departure, a crew member cheerfully asked if we’d like a sea sickness tablet, as the sea was “a little choppy.” Now, when a local tells you the sea’s a little choppy, what they actually mean is “You’re about to experience a full-body workout trying to remain upright.” We gratefully popped the tablet and clung to hope.
Once we were off, it became immediately clear: this was no luxury cruise. The boat bounced, dipped, and lurched like it had a personal vendetta against breakfast. Standing up was a full-contact sport — and any attempt to photograph wildlife was basically an audition for “Survivor: Marine Edition.”
But then… magic. A Fin whale, over 25 metres long, rose majestically from the water like a submarine that forgot it was camera shy. It was breathtaking — and, somehow, faster than we expected for something the size of a bus. Trying to get a clear photo was a cross between playing “Whack-a-Mole” and an advanced balancing class — one hand on the rail, one hand on the camera, and sheer panic in our hearts. But we managed a few blurry masterpieces for the memory bank.
Credit where it’s due — our boat crew were fantastic. They kept a respectful distance, often cutting the engine to float quietly while we watched the whales breach and surface. Sadly, not everyone followed this etiquette. One speedboat in particular seemed to think it was in an F1 race, zooming far too close and constantly startling the poor whale. We gave them the international side-eye of disapproval.
Midway through, we were served breakfast on board — a homemade egg sandwich and some fresh fruit. Basic, but surprisingly satisfying while bobbing about on the high seas with whales as your breakfast companions.
While we didn’t get to see any dolphins (apparently they missed the call time), we were reassured this was unusual — most tours see dolphins more often than whales. Trust us to be backwards. But honestly? No complaints. Seeing those enormous, majestic creatures in the wild was unforgettable, even if we were slightly green in the gills and clutching the boat like it was our last lifeline.
We were also due to go snorkelling as part of the trip, which we’d been looking forward to — especially since we’d smugly packed our own snorkelling gear like pros. Unfortunately, the sea was so choppy that we were advised it wasn’t safe to get in. A little disappointing, yes… but also quite fair, considering we could barely stand up on the boat. Safety first, even if our flippers never saw the light of day.
By the time we returned to shore, slightly soggy, mildly bruised, and very windswept, we both agreed it had been absolutely worth the early wake-up call and the rollercoaster waves. The whales were incredible, the team was respectful and professional, and we’d definitely recommend it — just don’t skip the sea sickness tablets. Ever.
Journey back to airport
The next day marked the bittersweet finale of our Sri Lankan adventure. We were picked up from our hotel at 7am sharp, bleary-eyed but mostly packed, for our journey back to the airport. We’d booked our transfer through Booking.com (as you do), and at £75 for a two-and-a-half-hour drive, we thought that was pretty reasonable — especially considering our driver turned up on time and didn’t drive like he was auditioning for Fast & Furious: Colombo Drift.
About halfway through the journey, our driver pulled into a motorway service station and casually said, “Breakfast?” We nodded enthusiastically — more out of hunger than logic — and hopped out for what we assumed would be a fairly basic roadside snack.
Wrong. The breakfast selection was immense. We’re talking full Sri Lankan curries, roti, fresh pastries, juices, even dodgy-looking Western attempts at “sausages” that we politely ignored. It was like a food court met a buffet and had a beautiful baby. We grabbed a few bits (because who doesn’t love a pre-flight carb load?) and took it all in while watching the morning traffic roll past.
Honestly, it wasn’t the fancy farewell we imagined, but it felt perfectly fitting: a chaotic, flavour-filled pit stop on the road out of paradise. Bellies full and caffeine levels topped up, we jumped back in the car and made our way to the airport, already reminiscing about the trip we were still technically on.