Sunset over the Indian Ocean and a bonfire on the beach crackles under a slowly rising orange moon. A candlelit table for five sits on the sand and a bottle of wine chills in the ice bucket.
“Oh my God, look!” my 12-year-old son Felix shouts, jumping out of his chair.
A hand grabs my shoulder. “Ma’am, could you please move your family? There’s an elephant coming.”
I turn around and there it is. Five tons of elephas maximus maximus, 20 feet from the tablecloth. We disperse as the hotel rangers follow its progress by torchlight. It is heading for a freshwater lake.
“At least he’s not going to the front desk,” says our waiter. “Last time, he spent two hours drinking water from the pond and no one was allowed back to their rooms.”
Animal magic: Sri Lanka is home to the “largest concentration of elephants in the world,” reveals Fiona Hardcastle, who is travelling the country on a tour organised by Uga Resorts
Small islands are not meant to have big animals, but Sri Lanka is full of surprises: leopards, sloth bears, blue whales, sperm whales, huge crocodiles and the world’s largest concentration of elephants.
Another surprise is that, with three climatic regions, you can avoid the southwest monsoon that hits between May and August by heading to the dry and less developed east coast.
Here, the 30°C heat of its pristine white sand beaches is tempered by sea breezes and the national parks are home to some of the best big game safaris outside Africa.
Add to this a fascinating mix of cultures and cuisine, and I assure my husband and three children that we are destined to enjoy a vacation like no other.
Our 10-day trip is hosted by Uga Resorts, a chic chain of boutique hotels spread across the island. Now that tourism authorities have declared Sri Lanka safe after years of unrest, there’s no better time to explore.
On Fiona’s tour, Uga Riva, ‘a sensitively restored 180-year-old mansion’ (above) in Negombo, is her first stop.
Fiona’s daughters relax after their 11-hour flight in the pool at Uga Riva, pictured, which they describe as “picture perfect”.
First stop Negombo, a short hop from the airstrip in Colombo, with more Virgin Marys than the Vatican (the roadside shrines and Catholic churches are a legacy of Portuguese colonial days) and accommodations that exude poise and peace.
We’re barely beneath the sloping roofs of Uga Riva, a lovingly restored 180-year-old mansion, when I’m already taking in the fixtures and fittings. “This is perfect!” Rose, 18, shouts from the pool as she and Evie, 16, float away from the 11-hour flight from the UK.
The next morning, our expedition begins in earnest: towards the Cultural Triangle, home to Sri Lanka’s most important ancient cities.
We start with Dambulla, where the climb to its legendary rock temple activates my husband’s dormant fitness app.
“You’re off to a great start,” goes the phrase of the year as we stand breathless but in awe at the first of five caves filled with golden Buddhas on the way to Paradise. They are not the only ones.
We continue on to the rural retreat of Ulagalla and welcome pilgrims. Candles are lit, blessings are given and bells are rung. It could be an initiation ceremony, I joke, adding that I would gladly join in with whatever was happening if it meant living out the rest of my days in this special place.
The place I will be spending the next three nights will be one of 25 palatial villas spread across 58 acres of forest with its own lily pond, plunge pool and rice paddy. I don’t have the heart to tell the kids that at 4am the alarm goes off to go and see a rock. Sigiriya, built as a 5th-century royal fortress 200 metres up, is Sri Lanka’s most spectacular sight and there is only one way to do it: climb the metal stairs bolted to the rock face and don’t look down.
Fiona climbs the impressive rock fortress of Sigiriya (pictured) – “the most spectacular view in Sri Lanka”
Once again, my husband’s fitness app is recording unusual activity, but as we reach the top, I can’t help but think a little more fanfare is needed.
Vertigo is one thing, ignoring the repeated warning signs of “Wasp Attack: Be Quiet!” is another. How King Kashyapa, who is said to have had 500 concubines in his palace, managed to get so many women to the top is beyond me. Mind you, as King K no doubt told the girls: “The view is amazing, babe.” As are the opportunities to forage.
A troop of gray langur monkeys scamper along the edge. We watch, in awe, as one of them reaches into a woman’s handbag before whisking her away. It’s definitely time for breakfast.
We returned to base to fortify ourselves with egg hoppers, crispy bowl-shaped pancakes onto which we spooned curry, pickles and dahls, fruit plates and coconut juice.
You can kayak, ride horses and enjoy the sunset in what Rose calls her “happy place” – an open Land Cruiser on the banks of Lake Nachchaduwa.
Fiona is staying at the Uga Bay Resort (above), which sits on more than two miles of private beach. “It has the kind of powder-white sand, fringed with palm trees, that would make any beachgoer’s heart soar,” she writes.
Above on the left is one of Uga Bay Resort’s spacious beach villas with a private pool, while on the right is one of the bedrooms.
Our last night and a banquet at the Kamatha, a piece of bare land in the heart of the rice field, where the rice harvest is collected.
We pull up our chairs made from cinnamon sticks as sisters Manel and Diluka welcome us into the kitchen of their mud hut and explain how the women of the house gather to prepare dinner for their men after a day of work in the fields. My husband, who is the provider of all meals at home, raises an eyebrow. The display of 25 dishes that follows takes our breath away. Our banana-leaf-lined bowls are clean.
It’s time to leave the nature that has conquered us behind and head for the stunning beaches. Our next stop, Uga Bay on the east coast, has powder-white, palm-fringed sand that would make any beachgoer’s heart race.
Stretching along two miles of private beach, its 44 rooms and suites feature private balconies overlooking the quieter bay. A morning snorkelling session on a catamaran with a friendly five-person crew from Sail Lanka will take us to deeper waters.
Fiona visits the Uga Chena Lodges, seen here, an 18-room “exclusive” safari setting
Inside one of Chena Huts’ villas (pictured is one of the bedrooms (left) and a bathroom (right)), deep in the Sri Lankan jungle, “at the gates of Yala National Park”
Fiona spots a native leopard “coming out of the bush” in Yala National Park. “It is a memory that will stay with us,” she writes.
It’s finally time for the grown-ups to head into the jungle and spend two nights at Chena Huts, an exclusive 18-room safari environment on the doorstep of Yala National Park. Our first morning game drive begins fortuitously, as a family of warthogs, my favourite, dart past us.
The next three hours could be lifted straight from The Jungle Book: crocodiles and buffalo bathing in one lagoon, a trio of elephants playing in another, chattering monkeys crashing into trees, more peacocks than you can see wagging their tails.
Then we see it. Emerging from the undergrowth, striding in front of us, the unmistakable mass of muscle and menace that is the native Sri Lankan leopard. One look worthy of a panic attack and it was gone. Along with our giant encounter on the beach that night, it is a memory that will stay with us.
But, like Mowgli, we must leave the jungle and head into the vast cloud of smoke of Colombo, a cloud of chaos and construction, and a whirlwind tuk-tuk ride before our final accommodation at the Uga Residence, an oasis of colonial calm.