Sri Lanka

Sri Lanka occupies a modest sweep of the Indian Ocean, a pear-shaped landmass set just south of the Indian subcontinent. A slender chain of limestone shoals, known to legend as Adam’s Bridge, links it to mainland India, though only vestiges of that land bridge remain above the waves. Beyond these remnants, the Gulf of Mannar and the Palk Strait mark a clear separation, yet currents and cultures have flowed between the island and peninsula for millennia.

Beneath its soil and surf, Sri Lanka lies atop the Indian Plate. Coastal plains stretch from the shoreline, giving way in the island’s center to a ridge of hills and peaks crowned by Pidurutalagala at 2,524 metres. A hundred rivers carve courses toward the sea; the Mahaweli, longest among them at 335 kilometres, supplies the irrigated fields that once underpinned ancient kingdoms. These waterways yield more than rice paddies: they tumble through forested gorges to form 51 natural falls over ten metres high, among them the 263-metre drop of Bambarakanda.

Monsoons shape the island’s rains. South-west winds drench the highland slopes and the “wet zone” with as much as 2,500 millimetres of precipitation annually. To the north and east, rain totals decline to roughly 1,200–1,900 millimetres; the coasts arid further still. Periodic cyclones and squalls intervene, but the broad pattern holds. Temperatures vary with elevation: frost may appear at the highest elevations, while coastal plains often tip the thermometer above 30 °C by day, only to drop nearly 15 °C at night.

Evidence indicates that humans set foot here more than a hundred thousand years ago; written history stretches back three thousand years. Names have shifted with eras: in modern parlance, Sri Lanka bears its Sanskrit-derived title, yet for centuries after European arrival it was known as Ceylon. From the fourth council of Buddhist elders in 29 BCE emerged the Pāli Canon, a record first committed to writing on the island. Its scripts survive in stone inscriptions, palm-leaf manuscripts and the memory of its monastic orders.

Strategic harbours made the island a focal point for traders on the ancient Silk Road. Arab mariners, Chinese envoys and, by the early sixteenth century, Portuguese fleets sought control of its ports and cinnamon groves. Conflict punctuated the map: Dutch forces claimed coastal sections in the seventeenth century; Britain wrested those holdings in 1796, consolidating rule over the entire island by 1815. Under the Crown, plantations of tea, rubber and coffee expanded inland, while steamships linked Colombo to London and Bombay.

A national movement first coalesced in the late nineteenth century, and in 1948 Ceylon achieved dominion status. By 1972, republic status followed, and the nation assumed its current name. Shortly afterward, discord between Sinhalese and Tamil populations escalated into a civil conflict that spanned from 1983 until 2009. The Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam fell to government forces that year, closing a chapter marked by displacement, but leaving scars in the north and east where demining and reconstruction continue.

Today, roughly twenty-two million people reside on the island. Sinhalese, comprising about three-quarters of the population, speak Sinhala; Tamil speakers total near five million. Smaller communities include Moors, whose forebears arrived via Arab trade, and Burghers descended from Dutch and Portuguese lineages. Indigenous Vedda people maintain traditions in remoter forests. Constitutional provisions designate Sinhala and Tamil as official languages; English serves as a link language in commerce and education.

Buddhist practice predominates, observed by approximately seventy percent of the population, most of them Sinhalese. Hinduism, Islam and Christianity each account for smaller shares, yet all faiths shape public life and festival calendars. The state accords Buddhism a foremost place under its constitution, and temple complexes—stone dagobas, drumming pavilions, guardian figures carved in granite—dot the countryside from Anuradhapura to Kandy.

Economic data place Sri Lanka at 78th on the Human Development Index, highest in South Asia by that measure. In purchasing-power terms, its per capita GDP ranks second in the region. Plantation crops remain emblematic—tea exports uphold nearly two centuries of reputation for “Ceylon tea”—yet services now account for close to sixty percent of output, with industry at twenty-six and agriculture at eight percent. Tourism, textiles, food processing and overseas remittances all contribute.

China, India and the United States stand as principal trading partners. Within national borders, provinces differ in output: the Western Province, anchored by Colombo, produces nearly half of the economy. After a wartime hiatus, the Northern Province recorded nearly twenty-three percent growth in 2010, yet disparities persist. The state encourages diversification through port expansions—Hambantota joins deep-water facilities at Colombo, Galle and Trincomalee—and improved road and rail networks.

More than a hundred thousand kilometres of paved roads weave through the island, giving it one of the world’s highest road densities. Thirty-five A-Grade highways and four expressways link Colombo with regional centres. Sri Lanka Railways operates some 1,447 kilometres of track, threading through tea country to Ella, past elephants in wilderness sanctuaries and on to northern plains. Public and private buses ferry most intercity passengers; tuk-tuks and motorbikes fill urban streets.

Tourism shrank during economic crises and security concerns, but recent figures signal recovery. In the first half of 2024, visitor revenues topped 1.5 billion dollars, a 78 percent rise over the previous year; arrivals surpassed one million, up 62 percent. Government initiatives include visa waivers for select nationalities and a global marketing effort tied to the national carrier. Beaches, pilgrimage sites and wildlife parks draw travellers, while temple etiquette and rural customs warrant briefings.

Custom dictates removal of footwear and modest attire at places of worship; shoulders and knees should stay covered. Tourists should not touch Buddhist monks or pose with statues in irreverent ways. Public display of tattoos bearing sacred imagery may provoke offence. Local households sometimes mirror temple protocol: shoes left at the door signal respect. Handing items with the right hand or both hands is customary—small gifts or money warrant visible deference.

Security concerns have shifted. Road accidents account for more fatalities than crime or residual wartime risks. Daily traffic collisions claim at least eight lives; many stem from excessive speed, reckless overtaking or fatigued drivers under pressure to maintain timetables. Pedestrians benefit by facing incoming traffic and remaining alert at crossings. Driving behavior among tuk-tuks or scooters can surprise unwary visitors.

While the civil war ended in 2009, land-mine removal continues in former conflict zones. In the event of suspected unexploded ordnance, authorities advise dialing local emergency hotlines. Terrorist acts have recurred: Islamic State-linked bombings in April 2019 targeted churches and hotels, resulting in hundreds of casualties. Outside of these episodes, violent crime rates against tourists remain low, though petty theft on crowded buses merits caution.

Women generally travel without undue risk, provided common-sense precautions prevail. Public transport late at night poses heightened vulnerability. Rural roads grow dark by nine o’clock; covering shoulders and knees can ease interaction with conservative communities. Beaches see few issues if visitors stay in groups. LGBT travellers should recognize that colonial-era statutes criminalize homosexual activity; discretion remains advisable.

In illustration of its contrasts, Sri Lanka pairs serene tea gardens with bustling harbours; ancient dagobas stand within sight of modern skyline rising in Colombo. Hill-country rail journeys traverse misted valleys, while coastal highways expose travellers to monsoon-weather drama. History lingers in ruined capitals and in the soil that nourished kingdoms for centuries. This island’s pulse arises from convergences of peoples, languages and faiths—an enduring interplay of continuity and change beneath a tropical sun.