Noelnadesan's Blog

Our reunion with the 1975 batch of veterinary colleagues was a memorable two-day affair that began at the Peradeniya Veterinary Faculty, located near the Mahaweli Ganga River. Interestingly, there were more girls than boys in our batch. Though our minds were still back in 1975, our bodies reminded us that it was now 2025. I found myself slowly coming to terms with the fact that fifty years had passed between then and now. Yet, as we reconnected, it felt like no time had gone by — we were once again sharing old stories and laughter.

From Peradeniya, we headed to the small hill-country town of Nawalapitiya, where we had booked accommodation for two nights. The hotel, though somewhat isolated, was located near a waterfall. The soothing sound of cascading water at night and early in the morning was especially comforting, particularly to a slightly inebriated mind after the celebrations.

After two days filled with joy and nostalgia, we said our goodbyes, and I continued my journey south with my friend. Our next stop was Udawalawe National Park, where we planned to stay for a day. The park is famous for its elephants but also hosts a rich variety of Sri Lankan birds. One of the key attractions is the Elephant Transit Home, which cares for orphaned baby elephants until they’re ready to be released back into the wild. We went on an early morning safari, which proved truly rewarding.

Given my deep interest in archaeology and wildlife, and Shiamala’s enthusiasm for spiritual sites, we also spent a day in Kataragama—a revered Hindu temple town on the southern coast of Sri Lanka. Sitting outside the temple, I noticed several Indian tourists among the visitors. What caught my eye, however, was a poster featuring a young boy with cancer. The temple was raising funds to build a children’s ward at Maharagama, the main cancer hospital in Colombo. It was a touching gesture by the temple trustees—especially in contrast to some wealthy temples in the northern province that spend excessively on rebuilding and repainting. Moved by the initiative, I went inside the temple and gave Shiamala a donation to contribute.

Our next safari was in Yala Sanctuary, planned specifically to see leopards in the early morning. Just two weeks earlier, I had been in Kanha National Park in Madhya Pradesh, India, where I was lucky enough to see a tigress calmly cross the road less than 100 meters from our jeep. A friend who travelled with me—someone who had visited Indian tiger reserves eight times—had never seen a tiger before. I felt fortunate to have witnessed such a rare moment and hoped my luck with elusive carnivorous animals would continue with the Lankan leopards. But after two hours in the Yala jungle, we had no luck. It seemed as if all the animals had taken the day off. The driver was keen to continue the search, but I said “enough”—the bumpy ride was too much for my 70-year-old back.

From Yala, we continued to Mirissa, a seaside town with a clean beach often frequented by young European tourists. Along the way, we visited ruby mines and cinnamon processing plants. Although I was already familiar with these, our driver was eager to treat me like any other tourist. It reminded me that it was the sapphires, rubies, and cinnamon that once attracted Arab merchants and later drew the colonial powers to the island.

We spent our final two days in Induruwa, another seaside town. The hotel had its beach and offered a comfortable stay. One morning, our driver Duncan—who is also the brother of a good friend, took us to his hometown, Balapitiya, to see the mangroves. At first, I was reluctant, thinking I had already seen enough mangroves in India, but he insisted. We took a boat with him, and I was glad I did—the scenery was stunning, and the mangroves were teeming with life: water monitors, crocodiles, and a variety of native birds made it a paradise for a keen birdwatcher like me.

All my previous journeys to Sri Lanka had a purpose—often tied to politics or work—but this time, I travelled simply as a traveller. Over three weeks, I enjoyed the food, the archaeology, and the rich natural beauty of the island. It was a refreshing and fulfilling experience.