Story from UninhibitedExcursionist82942

Sri Lanka: the Good, the Bad, and the MonkeysIn 2023 - and finally, after spotting some cheap flights on JFC - my friend Kieron and I set off on a two-week, low-budget adventure around Sri Lanka. We spent the first week exploring the country’s lush inland scenery before heading south for beaches, surf, and a bit of recovery time.Our first stop was Sigiriya, in the so-called Cultural Triangle (home to ancient cities like Anuradhapura and Polonnaruwa). Here, we climbed the famous Lion Rock, an ancient rock fortress, as well as its neighbour, Pidurangala Rock, which offers incredible views of Sigiriya… provided you’re okay with a bit of bouldering-style scrambling.This being our first stop (and our first time in Sri Lanka) we were quickly introduced to a local reality: frequent power cuts. One evening this meant walking back to our guesthouse in complete pitch black, guided only by torchlight and the sounds of unseen animals. Character building, to say the least.And speaking of animals… this is where we met the monkeys.As tourists, we were obviously fascinated by them. That fascination ended abruptly after a sweaty hike up and down Lion Rock, when we decided to reward ourselves with ice lollies. While walking away, we were suddenly surrounded by a group of monkeys, baring their teeth and clearly prepared to fight for our frozen treats. I, being incredibly sensible, launched my ice lolly at them and ran. Kieron attempted to maintain some dignity - until the monkeys advanced, and he swiftly adopted my strategy.Sri Lankan lesson #1: Don’t f**k with monkeys.Next up was Kandy, one of Sri Lanka’s biggest cities and a place that often gets skipped on people’s itineraries. It felt more culturally authentic than some of our other stops - busy streets, local restaurants, temples, and very few other tourists. After days of early starts, long buses, sweaty walks, and navigating a country neither of us fully understood yet, Kandy felt like real life rather than a highlight reel.One evening, we sat in a restaurant on a hill just outside the city when a huge thunderstorm rolled in. The rain hammered down, the thunder echoed, and the lightning lit up the city in silent, dramatic flashes. It was one of those moments that feels cinematic at the time, like you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.That said… by this point, Kieron and I had been together non-stop for a week. Two people, constant decision-making, and no personal space. Small things started to feel very big. Where to eat. How early to wake up. Whether we really needed to see another temple. We didn’t argue exactly - but the tension was definitely there, simmering under the surface while we both pretended everything was fine.Nothing actually went wrong in Kandy, which somehow made it the perfect place for us to realise we were reaching our limit.Sri Lankan lesson #2: If you want to kill your travel partner, you probably need a day apart.From Kandy, we boarded one of Sri Lanka’s most famous experiences: the train to Ella. Whatever expectations I had, it exceeded them. The views were unreal, but honestly? The food was just as exciting. Hot tea, samosas, popcorn, and men leaning through the windows at stations selling freshly cut mango - UK rail journeys could never. And yes, I did get the iconic photo leaning out of the moving train.Arriving in Ella felt like a shift - not just because of the higher altitude. After bustling, local-feeling Kandy, Ella felt very touristy, almost like one long backpacker strip. It’s beautiful, with waterfalls and the famous Nine Arches Bridge… but there was one thing that dominated my memory of Ella:The leeches.Ella is damp. Constantly. A backpacker we met in Kandy warned us he’d gone swimming near a waterfall and emerged with 20 leeches attached to him. Naturally, I took this very seriously. On our hike to Ravana Cave, my trousers were tucked into my socks, hiking boots tightly laced - zero risks taken. Or so I thought.After a full day of walking (and ignoring what I assumed were imaginary sensations), I finally removed my sock to discover a leech attached to my ankle - now the size of a slug after feasting on me all day. Cue absolute panic and screaming for Kieron to remove this thing from my body.Despite the trauma, the next day we walked to Nine Arches Bridge - incredibly cool to stand on the tracks as the train thunders past inches away. A short uphill walk nearby (more leeches spotted) leads to a café where you can sip tea and watch the trains roll by.Sri Lankan lesson #3: Nature is beautiful, but it absolutely does not care about you.After monkeys, leeches, and relentless mosquitoes, we headed south to Mirissa for beach days and relaxation. On our second morning, we woke up very early for a whale-watching tour.As someone who suffers badly from motion sickness, I gratefully accepted a travel sickness pill offered by the guides. What they didn’t mention was that these pills also functioned as sleeping tablets. About 20 minutes after leaving shore, every single person on the boat was asleep. They could’ve told us we’d seen the biggest whale pod on Earth and we would’ve believed them! At one point, Kieron tried to fight the drowsiness by standing up to look for whales. He simply fell asleep standing. Eventually, I managed to wake up long enough to spot some whales - an incredible experience, from what I remember.Sri Lankan lesson #4: Think twice before accepting pills from strangers… even if it’s the best sleep you’ve ever had. (this really shouldn't be a lesson)From there, as our trip sadly started to wrap up, we slowly made our way along the south coast, stopping in famous surf towns like Weligama and Ahangama. Our days were filled with surf lessons, beach time, and the occasional party. Despite ongoing rumours of crocodiles drifting out to sea and terrifying surfers, I managed to avoid them - having already encountered more than enough new species on this trip.By the time we flew home, I’d fallen hard for Sri Lanka - the people, the food, the chaos, and the fact that every day seemed to come with a new lesson (usually involving wildlife). It’s not always easy, it’s definitely not boring, and despite everything, I’d go back in a heartbeat… just maybe with fewer ice lollies and thicker socks. Sri Lankan lesson #5: Travel with an open mind and open arms, and the country will give it all right back.