“Table for one” — My Solo Journey Through Sri Lanka
A paradise inside a paradise - Lanuganga
There were two deep, personal reasons why I had always wanted to visit this island.
First, when my mother was pregnant with me, my grandfather had a conference scheduled in Sri Lanka that very same week. When my mother went into labor, he cancelled the trip to welcome me into the world. He never made it to Sri Lanka after that. Somewhere in my heart, I’ve always felt that I was meant to make this journey for him — to complete that unfinished story.
The second reason was my love for Geoffrey Bawa — the legendary Sri Lankan architect. His work speaks to my soul: the way he weaves nature, light, and architecture together feels almost spiritual. My entire trip was planned around visiting the spaces he created.
This year had started slow but quickly turned into chaos — endless projects, tight deadlines, difficult clients, and handovers all piling up. I was exhausted. My creativity had gone quiet. I needed this trip to breathe again — to recharge, reflect, and rediscover inspiration.
So, when I decided on Sri Lanka, I simply booked my flight and stays. No itinerary. No overplanning. I didn’t even Google much — I wanted to feel surprised, to meet the country with fresh eyes.
Colombo — First Encounters
I landed in Colombo on day one, and my first stop had to be Bawa’s famous home — Number 11. I reached half an hour early, like an eager student waiting for her favorite class to begin.
Later, I visited the Paradise Road Gallery Café, which once used to be Bawa’s office. The moment I entered, I was struck — not by luxury, but by soul. The place had a scent, a mood, a feeling of nostalgia. It felt like time travel. I found a quiet corner, ordered a drink, and sat there for almost five hours — just soaking it all in.
Day two was about exploring Colombo — the National Museum, Gangaramaya Temple, and of course, a stop at the Paradise Road store, where I shopped way too much. (Let’s just say 15 kilos of extra luggage worth of “home décor inspiration.” My guilty pleasure!)
I stayed in an Airbnb owned by an artist named Channa, who gave me a tour of his art-filled home. The creative energy in that space was contagious — a perfect start before I boarded one of the world’s most scenic train journeys: Colombo to Ella.
The Train to Ella — Windows to Paradise
I’ve always been a bit nervous about trains — the chaos of stations back home in India overwhelms me — but Sri Lanka’s railway system was surprisingly calm and easy. I boarded my first-class seat for a nine-hour journey through landscapes I’ll never forget.
There was no food on board, and the stops were quick, so I basically survived on a cup of chai and a samosa. But once the train crossed Kandy, the world outside turned into a dream — emerald tea plantations, misty mountains, and sunlight playing hide and seek through the trees.
Somewhere between the hills, I met a group of medical students who had just finished their exams. They were full of laughter and life — we chatted, took pictures, and shared stories. It’s funny how strangers can become small parts of your travel memories.
By the time I reached Ella, it was night, drizzling softly. My Airbnb host, Andy, picked me up from the station. After a quick dinner, I found myself saying those familiar words again — “Table for one.”
This time, it didn’t feel awkward. It felt... comforting.
Ella — Friendship and Falls
At dinner, I met Bar, a solo traveler from Israel. We instantly connected and decided to explore together the next day.
Andy drove us around — we trekked up Little Adam’s Peak, shared stories, and laughed over how both of us were escaping busy city lives in search of something slower, something simpler. We visited Ravana Falls, which was too crowded, so we asked Andy to take us somewhere quieter — a hidden waterfall we’d seen on Pinterest.
What followed felt like stepping into a fairytale.
We trekked down through dense jungle, crossed small streams, and found ourselves in front of cascading waterfalls — one after another. At the last pool, it was just us. Two travelers, some snacks, laughter echoing off the rocks, and the sound of water. I’ve never felt more at peace.
We ended the day at a local eatery Andy recommended — simple Sri Lankan curry and rice that tasted like pure comfort.
That evening, we met some fellow travelers, talking about our countries, food, safety, people — everything under the moonlight. Ella had given me friendship, nature, and stillness — all in one place.
Ahangama — The Soul of the South
The next morning, I headed to Ahangama, sleeping most of the way (I love road trips because I always end up dozing off!).
My stay — The Merchant House — was a dream. White walls, a quiet pool, tropical trees, and a friendly dog named Patchi who greeted me like an old friend.
That evening, I took a walk along the beach as the sun dipped into the ocean. Every café, every corner had such thoughtful design — rustic, raw, yet warm. I ended up at a quirky place called Hotel the Uncle — retro vibes, karaoke, laughter, waves crashing nearby.
Soon, I was chatting with locals, artists, and travelers. One Sri Lankan artist said something that stayed with me:
“You live in Sri Lanka — you don’t work in Sri Lanka.”
It made me think deeply. In fast-paced Dubai, life is always about what’s next — the next project, the next goal, the next validation. But here, people just live. And in that simple act of living, they create magic.
Galle, Lanuganga & the Last Goodbye
The following days flowed by like a dream. Breakfasts at The Kip Café, journaling by the beach, scooter rides to Galle Fort — a place straight out of Pinterest with cobblestone streets, art galleries, and gem shops.
And then came the day I had been waiting for — visiting Bawa’s Lunuganga Estate.
The place was beyond words — a masterpiece that breathed with nature. I spent hours wandering through its gardens, feeling like I was walking through Bawa’s thoughts. I’ll write a whole separate post about that experience, because it deserves its own story.
My final night was back in Colombo, at another Bawa-designed stay — De Saram House. I spent the evening reflecting, grateful that I’d gifted myself this journey.
The next morning, I got two small tattoos — tiny symbols of this trip — and did my last bit of shopping at Paradise Road and Barefoot.
As I packed my bags, I realized something beautiful:
By the end of this trip, saying “table for one” no longer felt lonely. It felt like freedom.
Sri Lanka had welcomed me like family — with open skies, soulful design, and kind strangers.
It truly is paradise.
