Rattly train to Nuwara Eliya
Leaving the faded colonial robes of the Queen’s Hotel behind, we made our way on foot through Kandy’s early-morning bustle to the train station. Distances in Sri Lanka can be deceiving; on the map, towns appear close, but the reality is otherwise. Of all transport options, trains set the gold standard for slowness, taking their time to curve around hills and crawl through tea country at a pace that leaves plenty of opportunity to enjoy the headspace, mingle with locals, and hang out the doorway to admire the plunging valleys.
Nuwara Eliya: Colonial relics and cool hills
Nuwara Eliya is a town shrouded in layers of mist. At first glance, it appears somewhat drab, a sprawl of concrete blocks and half-finished developments reminiscent of so many South Asian hill towns. But delve a bit deeper and the charms start to reveal themselves. The town, founded by the British in the mid-19th century as a retreat from the coastal heat, was shaped by colonial ideals: manicured gardens, a golf course, Georgian-style buildings and a racecourse all meant to replicate a very British lifestyle. These days, the old-world charm jostles against modern Sri Lankan hustle, but the crisp mountain air remains a drawcard.
We rented a modest apartment, which looked fine in the pictures but unfortunately reeked of mould to the point of being nearly uninhabitable, perhaps a hazard of mountain dampness. The next morning, a tuk-tuk carried us out through winding roads to the Labookellie Tea Estate for a tour. Tea is at the heart of Nuwara Eliya, the cool, wet climate is ideal for cultivating high-grown leaves prized worldwide. Labookellie, one of the region’s grand old estates, stands as a tribute to the industry that transformed this region in the 1800s and still dominates the landscape today. Yet all is not idyllic: the tea industry in Sri Lanka, especially in places like Ella and Nuwara Eliya, has long relied on Tamil plantation workers, many descended from labourers brought here under British rule. These workers often face harsh conditions, and only in recent years have pay and living standards begun to see long-overdue improvements, though progress remains uneven.
Slow Train to Ella: Buffet Car Adventures
From Nuwara Eliya, the train to Ella proved an even slower journey than before. The carriage numbering system was a logic puzzle, so we abandoned our quest for third-class seats and settled into the buffet car. It turned out to be a highlight: open windows, fresh samosas, cups of sickly sweet milky tea, and the opportunity to dangle arms out the window for those obligatory winding-track shots.
Ella sits perched on the edge of Sri Lanka’s southern hills, surrounded by lush forests and waterfalls. Once a quiet railway junction, Ella has blossomed into a bustling, independent traveller hotspot. Its main street is lined with great food options, cafés, Roti shops, juice stands, as well as bars and backpacker hostels, a welcome change from the slim pickings in Nuwara Eliya. We found a homestay opposite the local cricket ground, a comfortable spot within easy reach of all the action.
The next morning, we set out on foot. The walk up to Ella Rock was a solid climb and gave expansive views across the valley. Afterwards, we visited the Nine Arches Bridge, a concrete and stone viaduct built in 1921 during the British colonial period. It’s a well-known railway landmark in Sri Lanka. I thought walking the railway tracks might be adventurous, but it’s almost a rite of passage here, so popular that there are cafés perched right on the line, offering drinks and food to passing walkers.
Drive to Colombo: Gritty urban contrast.
Rather than endure a twelve-hour rail trek to Colombo, we opted for a car and driver. The ride took around six hours inland, our driver weaving with almost supernatural skill through trucks, tuk-tuks and slow-moving buses, maintaining a menacing 60 kilometres per hour.
In Colombo, we checked into the Grand Oriental Hotel, a legend in Colombo’s history. Opened in the late 1800s in the city’s old port district, the hotel was once a byword for luxury. Its vast, chandelier-lit lobby still hints at past grandeur, though the budget rooms have since drifted into a faded glory not uncommon in storied Asian hotels. In the lobby stands a bust of Anton Chekhov, the great Russian writer who lodged here on his round-the-world journey in 1890. Just outside, the newly raised expressway roars past, a brutalist ribbon of modern progress slicing through the city and skimming the edge of the old port, Colombo’s changing face in a single scene.
We set out to explore Pettah, the city’s vibrant market district. Pettah is a warren of narrow streets jammed with shops hawking everything from spices to mobile phones, a to-and-fro that recalled the markets of Mumbai or Chennai: pungent, noisy, and wonderfully alive. At Galle Face Green, a seafront promenade beloved by locals, we joined people strolling at sunset, kids flying kites and vendors hawking stage prawn biscuit thingies.
From there, it was an easy trip to the top of the Lotus Tower, Sri Lanka’s tallest building, for panoramic views over the city and sea. The National Museum of Colombo proved to be unexpectedly impressive, with beautifully curated galleries telling the island’s complex story from ancient times through to independence and into the present.
All too soon, the trip came to an end, and I’m already planning a return, next time, with a motorcycle, keen to retrace routes and find sidetracks I missed this round. This island, in all its complexity, beauty, and warmth, is a destination I can’t wait to explore again.
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