hero media

Experience Sri Lanka’s vibrant culture up-close on tour

In a country rich in culture, wildlife and natural wonders, the real highlight of a journey to Sri Lanka is meeting people along the way.

Climbing to the top of the ancient clifftop fortress of Sigiriya. Spotting elephants and sloth bears on safari. And taking in panoramic views on a train weaving through verdant hills and tea plantations. These are just some of the highlights of a trip to Sri Lanka, a land brimming with stunning landscapes and iconic landmarks and oozing rich history and culture.

But for all these factors – as we travel from beaches to forests, mountains to cities, temples to markets – I have to say the most memorable parts of my trip to this land of spice and smiles prove to be the encounters with local people.

We’re a small pack of travellers squeezing in an impressive collection of adventures in Sri Lanka with Intrepid Travel in a whirlwind six days. We’re in the company of Suminda Dodangoda – Dodan to us – our ebullient guide and leader who feels like a friend almost the instant we meet.

Having led Intrepid tours for eight years, he’s a fount of knowledge on all things local, our translator, problem-solver and constant source of beaming grins and positivity. We have a designated driver, too, accompanied by his young son ‘Junior’, who helps with luggage, and it feels like a family.

a herd of elephants
Spot a herd of elephants on safari. (Image: Meinzahn via Getty Images)

The fascinating temples of Sri Lanka

A visit to the Dambulla Cave Temple – a series of remarkable caves housing more than 150 beautifully painted Buddha statues and artwork dating back to the 3rd century BCE – gives a vivid insight into the history of religion and its importance to its people. On another day, we witness this devotion in person.

Buddha statues inside the Dambulla Cave Temple
The Dambulla Cave Temple is home to more than 150 beautifully painted Buddha statues. (Image: Mark Daffey/Intrepid Travel)

As dawn breaks over the city of Kandy, we join local devotees at the Temple of the Sacred Tooth Relic, the nation’s most sanctified Buddhist site, which is said to house a tooth of the Buddha. It’s quiet as we approach the large, almost ethereal temple rebuilt in the 18th century, its white form glowing in the soft morning light. While it’s open three times a day for worshippers, it’s largely devoid of tourists at dawn.

Inside, the quiet is immediately replaced by a cacophony of drums and trumpets. Even at this hour, the temple is heaving with worshippers of all ages offering floral bouquets – tiny lotus and blue and hot-pink lilies – and dishes of rice sprinkled with sultanas.

We join the constant flow of people moving forward to pass the shrine housing the sacred relic, to catch a glimpse and pay our respects. I’m mesmerised by a spirited elderly woman unashamedly weaving through bodies and almost non-existent spaces to inch ahead a little quicker of the seething mass of humanity surging steadily forward.

When she suddenly turns back, I’m so distracted I miss the requisite glance into the revered shrine. But what I did witness was the Sri Lankans’ devotion and dedication to visiting a temple they believe they must see at least once in their lives.

a scenic view of Kandy lake from Arthur’s Seat
A panoramic view of Kandy from Arthur’s Seat. (Image: SAIKO3P via Getty Images)

Tasting Sri Lanka’s food and flavours

In a land known for its spices, cultivated and traded for more than 2500 years, what better way to experience its flavours than in a Sinhalese family kitchen? In Kandy, we’re welcomed into the home of Kolitha and Deepthi Alahakoon and their two teenage daughters.

a plate of Thala guli
Thala guli is a traditional sweet treat. (Image: Christine Aldred)

We start with a welcome tea and nibbles – tiny sugar bananas and thala guli, little balls of white sesame-seed deliciousness, coconut and crushed jaggery – before entering the kitchen for the main event. Preparations for the chicken curry begin, which is to be cooked in a kindling-fuelled wok in a separate enclave off the kitchen, keeping cooking aromas at bay with outside ventilation. Instructions are to make those spoonfuls of curry large ones.

Next it’s the coconut sambol – a Sri Lankan essential – pounded chilli mixed with freshly ground coconut. The coconut features again in the pittu – mixed with rice flour, steamed in a cylinder mould and cut into thick slices. The elevation from using fresh coconut is striking and I covet the fabulous grater clamped to the bench, undoubtedly a kitchen necessity.

It’s here we discover string hoppers (rice noodles) are made with an ingenious contraption that miraculously extrudes a rice flour mix into threadlike noodles, although our own efforts to create neat noodle pats are not always pretty.

We’re shooed from the kitchen while the hosts pull together all the elements to present at the dining table with additions of caramelised onion, dahl, multiple curries and pappadums. It’s a veritable feast.

a man with coconuts
Sample fresh coconut cut to order. (Image: Christine Aldred)

Go behind the scenes at factories

Factories in Sri Lanka are usually small and rustic affairs, which often operate in backyards with the assistance of the family and other workers. Our group of inquisitive strangers is welcomed into a salt factory to see how it operates and watch the team breaking down large slabs and clumps of salt rock into finer material before being packed into small parcels by a group of women of varying ages sitting on the ground.

Another factory transforms cut sugarcane into treacle – it’s hot, arduous work carried out with the simplest of technologies. The heat is stifling inside, emanating from burning the cane and boiling up the sugar to form treacle in vast vats stirred by hand.

It’s a family affair over three generations led by the grandmother, the matriarch. During this surprise visit, Dodan discovers the parents are deaf. He speaks with the grandmother and provides some information about educational resources to assist the two children, knowledge gleaned as part of his previous government job. It’s a good example of how a travel company operating locally can reach into the community and make a difference.

The future of tea plantations is bright

the tea pickers of Sri Lanka
The tea industry employs 10 per cent of the Sri Lankan population. (Image: Rawpixel via Getty Images)

What’s a trip to Sri Lanka without visiting a tea plantation, an industry that employs about 10 per cent of the Sri Lankan population, both directly and indirectly? In the Central Highlands, where humidity, cool temperatures and rainfall provide the perfect climate for high-quality tea, we visit the family plantation of forward-thinking Thilina Tennakoon.

Established originally in 1883, the plantation was handed back to the original owners by the British in 1948. As we wander, we learn about tea and the myriad fruits and spices grown onsite – cardamom, cinnamon, black pepper and jackfruit – though tea remains the main gig employing a team of seven.

It’s small producers like these that provide 65 per cent of Sri Lanka’s tea production. After government subsidies were removed for chemical fertilisers, making the cost unobtainable, most farms returned to organic practices. After four years, production yields here show very little difference, a positive sign for the future.

A highlight is meeting Thilina’s fascinating and thoroughly resourceful neighbour, a retired IT worker now reinvented as an off-grid, organic vegetable farmer, raising chickens, quails and goats and living his dream. The farmer makes his own biochar and reveres the value of cow urine to his crops.

He proudly shows us through his work shed and home, fuelled by solar and wind power and his own biogas, compliments of the chickens. The buildings are constructed almost completely from recycled materials, although he assures us the toilet fittings are new, and the views spectacular.

Thilina’s mum then prepares a feast for us to enjoy near his luxury villas, Tea Heights. The property has Kandy’s largest private pool and overlooks the emerald-green tea plantations. It’s a special place to be.

Weekly travel news, experiences
insider tips, offers,
and more.

Roadside adventures

a roadside fruit vendor
A roadside fruit vendor is all smiles. (Image: Mark Daffey/Intrepid Travel)

It’s not just the planned itinerary that brings personal interactions. Each day brings a new roadside adventure, some completely impromptu. We approach a simply constructed roti stall, sheets of corrugated iron placed over thin timber posts, smoke billowing, with a small shrine inside.

Just as drivers do on their long-haul rest breaks, we stop for a quick cuppa and watch as a woman with her son in tow whips up flatbreads on her stove with curry sauces to dip them in, one featuring the meat of wild boar.

Another stall beckons with the promise of freshly made scoops of buffalo curd, served in thick terracotta bowls and topped generously with treacle, perhaps my favourite food discovery in Sri Lanka. The curd comes courtesy of the buffalo out the back and the deft hands of a smiling woman dressed in crimson in beautiful harmony with the lolly-pink interiors of her shop.

There are myriad more experiences: buying sweet treats from a community kitchen operated by disadvantaged women; eating lunch from tin plates alongside city workers; stopping to dice and spice fresh mangoes as we travel along – a series of snapshots of everyday moments. Each interaction has an impact. As Dodan notes, “Tourism is so important here. Wherever we stop, to buy bananas or a drink, it helps an entire family."

It’s a good way to travel – knowing you’re making a difference, however small, and meeting the locals. Surely wherever we travel, people should be at the heart of it.

a scenic train ride from Ella to Kandy
Hop on a scenic train ride from Ella to Kandy. (Image: Gita Kelpsiene via Getty Images)

Want to see more stories from International Traveller in your Google search results?

  1. Click here to set International Traveller as a preferred source.
  2. Tick the box next to "International Traveller". That's it.
hero media

These community homestays are changing how travellers experience Nepal

    After youth-led protests in 2025, this year Nepal elected a 35-year-old former rapper as Prime Minister. In a country where tourism is its biggest industry, what’s next for travellers? 

    In 1986, Nepal changed its clock. It had used India Standard Time since 1920 so, to differentiate, it wound its clock 15 minutes ahead of, not behind, its big-brother neighbour. Boss move. “Nepal is strongly opposed to the idea that our identity is connected to India,” says Community Homestay Network (CHN) guide Bikal Khanal.  

    Tharu dance
    Tharu dance is traditionally set to hand drums. (Credit: Kate Lewis)

    Today, Nepal is the only independent country with a 45-minute deviation to universal time; an oddity that’s become a symbol of national pride. The quirk is nearly as endearing as Kathmandu’s Tribhuvan airport where carved varnished wood and shiny red bricks rule. One sign points to a ‘Travelator’ and another to a ‘Grievance Handling Desk’ while visas are noisily stamped at customs for US dollars, cash only. When am I?  

    Nepal gray langur
    Spot the endemic Nepal gray langur. (Credit: Simon Urwin)

    The 15 or 45 minute anomaly sees me tap out completely on timezone calculations. Why bend my brain calculating if it’s quarter to or quarter past elsewhere when I’m in the honking here and now of Kathmandu where the air is high-altitude crisp, the prayer flags flutter and the street dogs howl?  

    How tourism is changing in Nepal

    Bardiya National Park
    Bardiya National Park is rich with wildlife. (Credit: Simon Urwin)

    India is not the only association many Nepalis would like to shake. With eight of the world’s 10 tallest mountains, including Mount Everest and Annapurna, Nepal has long attracted mountaineers and trekkers, and expedition numbers are continuing to rise.  

    Tourism is one of the country’s biggest sources of foreign currency, so this growth is not negative, per se. But according to Ang Tshering Lama, who co-founded Phaplu Mountain Bike Club, being reduced to a mere trekking destination is limiting.  

    “Trekking is just one layer of our identity,” says Ang. “When it becomes the dominant narrative, it limits how we’re seen and how we see ourselves.” Nepal’s recent success, however, in diverting trekkers to less-trafficked areas such as Manaslu mofuntain, where visitor numbers rose by 117 per cent last year, offers hope that tourism can diversify even more radically.   

    Local men in Bhada village
    Local men in Bhada village. (Credit: Simon Urwin)

    The founder of CHN, Shiva Dhakal, wants that change. “The whole idea of the Community Homestay Network is to promote experiences outside of trekking,” he says. “Community tourism changes lives and helps kids stay home instead of coming to the city or migrating to the Middle East.”  

    Ang grew up seeing people leave, “not because they wanted to but because there weren’t enough opportunities to stay”, he states. Yet from remote villages to living traditions; food, art, music and emerging subcultures, “there’s so much that’s not being seen.” 

    CHN is opening some of those doors. It doesn’t own, or fund, any homes. Rather, it promotes homestays to travellers on a single, slick platform, while fostering entrepreneurship in places where women, marginalised castes, Indigenous people and the youth stand to benefit the most.  

    A new generation demanding more

    Dalla Town Hall
    Dalla Town Hall, where volunteers discuss anti-poaching tactics. (Credit: Bheem Thapa)

    The future prospects of next-gen Nepalis can no longer be ignored. On a Kathmandu tour with 33-year-old guide Monica K.C, we pass buildings torched in the September 2025 ‘Gen Z protests’, including the Supreme Court and Parliament House. Seventy-two people died. “They were anti-corruption protests,” says Monica. “Politicians’ children are living a lavish life but the airports are crowded with youngsters leaving to find work.”  

    We stop in ‘little Tibet’ at the wondrous sixth-century Boudha Stupa. “The wheel of life is Buddhism in a nutshell,” says Monica. “Things such as hate, ignorance and anger keep you rotating around the wheel, so you must follow the principles of Buddhism to detach. If you can’t, there’s no nirvana for you.”  

    Boudha Stupa's prayer wheels
    Boudha Stupa’s prayer wheels are used to recite Buddhist prayers. (Credit: Kate Lewis)

    In a sun-drenched twist to the usual temple visit, we ascend the stupa’s sloping plinth and roam its whitewashed dome. Tendrils of diaphanous prayer flags stream from a steeple-like structure where the Buddha’s unblinking eyes stare out. No nirvana for you… 

    bouda stupa prayer flags
    Tibetan-style prayer flags embellish the whitewashed dome of Bouda Stupa, a Buddhist temple. (Credit: Kate Hennessy)

    The dome is delightfully free of guard rails or chiding from security. There is, however, a stern ‘No TikTok’ sign, perhaps in response to the youth’s newly flexed power. The booted-out Prime Minister, K.P. Sharma Oli, was replaced in a resounding election victory in March by 35-year-old Balendra Shah of the Rastriya Swatantra Party (RSP) – a former rapper and mayor of Kathmandu. The RSP’s manifesto indicates tourism is a priority, and that Nepal’s cultural identity in areas such as gastronomy will be strengthened.  

    Boudha Stupa vendors
    Vibrant souvenir shops and cafes around Boudha Stupa. (Credit: Kate Hennessy)

    A more confronting stop awaits at Pashupatinath Temple. Today is Bala Chaturdashi, a Hindu festival where thousands of devotees gather to honour their dead ancestors. Vendors hauling foam mattresses do a lucrative trade as people set up for a night of vigil. This includes burning the bodies of recently deceased relatives on bamboo pyres in the Bagmati River, which flows into the sacred Ganges.  

    A woman at annual Hindu festival Bala Chaturdashi
    A woman at annual Hindu festival Bala Chaturdashi, in Kathmandu. (Credit: Kate Hennessy)

    Wrapped in a shroud, the bodies are positioned with their heads facing north to the Himalayas where Lord Shiva resides. They’re covered with flowers and straw and set alight by male family members.  

    Hours later, the ashes are swept into the river where devotees will take a holy dip the next day. As much as Monica assures us it’s not voyeuristic to watch, I struggle to do so. “Here you see the reality of life because everyone ends up there,” she says, gesturing to the river.  

    Life unfiltered in the Terai region

    tharu woman
    Tharu woman and master weaver Parbati Chaudhary in Bhada Village. (Credit: Bheem Thapa)

    The reality of life needs processing time, which the western Terai region delivers in spades. The Terai is largely separated from India by the Karnali River and Bardiya National Park, where elephants, rhinos and the elusive Bengal tiger roam.  

    Once a nomadic tribe, the Indigenous Tharu people are now the largest ethnic group here. “They didn’t know their daily life was interesting for international travellers but they’re starting to understand now,” says CHN founder Shiva.  

    safari through Bardiya National Park
    Take a Jeep safari through Bardiya National Park. (Credit: Bheem Thapa)

    We fly Buddha Air to Dhangadhi airport and drive five hours to stay in Tharu homes. The journey to Bhada village is a blur of roadside fruit stalls, traffic-stopping sacred cows and fields sown with wheat, rice, mustard, spinach, cauliflower and potatoes. Nepal’s agriculture feeds only Nepal.  

    Marigolds
    Marigolds are an important part of Hindu rituals. (Credit: Simon Urwin)

    “The only thing we export is young people,” says our guide Bikal. As the light dims and we plunge evermore rural, mysterious mounds of compacted hay – some house-sized – loom like the creatures from Where The Wild Things Are. Even our trusty driver gets flummoxed by a dirt road that abruptly ends and we find ourselves hurtling across a paddock.  

    On arrival, some are ferried to mud-walled cottages greened by gourd creepers, with thatched roofs and rustic-chic mosquito nets. Myself and two others are ushered to the home of corner store owner, mechanic and mushroom farmer Man Kumar Chilaruwa and his wife Rajkumari.  

    community homestay entrance
    A warm welcome at a community homestay. (Credit: Simon Urwin)

    They escort us to a bunker-esque back building with steel doors and a folding security gate, behind which is gleaming linoleum, dolphin-printed tiles and a shower cavity that must be gingerly stepped through to reach the toilet.  

    The ceiling lights emit a rainbow of colours (the bathroom light gets stuck in, frankly, a quite frightening red). We’re nevertheless touched that our hosts invested in all this bling when the average salary is around $275 a month.  

    In the coming days, we participate in Tharu traditions such as making moonshine, dancing, weaving straw handicrafts and gold-panning. We’re fed well with staples of rice, mustard greens, lentil pancakes, daal, curried chicken and tomato chutney served on antibacterial saal leaves.  

    food at community homestay
    Dig in. (Credit: Kate Hennessy)

    Sonara community homestay president Indradevi Tharu tells us river snails are often served, and the boiled and pickled flesh of rats hunted in the rice fields. “Perhaps next time?” we say and all have a laugh.  

    The power of community homestays 

    community homestay owners in Nepal
    Barda community homestay owners Parbati Chaudhary and Ram Krishni Devi Chaudhary. (Credit: Simon Urwin)

    Immersing Western visitors in foreign cultural practices is not new. But with the Tharu, I never get that uneasy sensation that I’m being performed for. Despite being the only tourists, there’s no ‘othering’; just warm, composed and ultra-dignified welcomes. Like we’ve always been here.  

    “I love to have travellers in my village so I can see the world,” says local woman Parbati Chaudhary. “Why would I travel the world when the world comes to me?” 

    The graceful acceptance the Tharu offer, as well as the slow pace, works miracles on my frazzled nervous system. One day I even take a nap on a vacant homestay bed. 

    Sonara community room
    An authentic stay in the Sonara community. (Credit: Kate Hennessy)

    Roosters strut and goats bray as we sit on the ground in al fresco kitchens, rolling rice flour into cylinders steamed to make dhikri (dumplings). When water is needed, we fetch it using a hand-operated pump as a family of ducks strolls by, side-eying us like curious neighbours.  

    Animal lovers will delight in Tharu villages. Kind and resourceful inventions are everywhere, such as snacking stations where two posts lean together, with leafy boughs dangling on rope for baby goats to forage from.  

    CHN’s CEO, Aayusha Prasain, nods knowingly when one in our group says she cried when she left her host, Shayam Chaudhary, in Bhada. Shayam’s 17-year-old son, Prashant, had translated, which deepened the connection.  

    “Community tourism turns travel into a relationship, not a transaction,” says Aayusha. “It places decision-making power in the hands of local communities, especially women and youth.” Since 2018, CHN has hosted more than 4000 travellers from 52 countries in 408 households, and estimates women’s participation has increased by 381 per cent.  

    Elephant watch
    Elephant watch. (Credit: Simon Urwin)

    In the Bardiya community, where vexing human-animal conflict has been a balancing act for decades due to elephants raiding crops, long-time homestay operator Salik Ram Chaudhary says young people keep the older ones on their toes.  

    Gathering greens
    Gathering greens. (Credit: Bheem Thapa)

    “We can’t keep homestays stagnant,” he says. “We have to upgrade our service and redefine our product or young people won’t see it as an attractive business. If we can keep evolving with this travelling trend we’re confident the youths will stay and continue it.” 

    Back in Kathmandu, Monica explains that after the deaths of young protestors in September, a determination had spread to not let their sacrifice be in vain. “We want to keep holding the government accountable,” she says. “We don’t know what situation we’re facing, but we’re ready to face it.”  

    Interested in Nepal but prefer to experience it in total comfort? Read our guide to luxury travel in Nepal