Sunday, June 8, 2025

Into the Wild: A Day Trip to Rathugala with a Plan and a Bit of Luck

 

It was sometime in April 2024 when my friend Anil Gammampila proposed a road trip — the kind that comes with a bit of wilderness, some architectural inspiration, and, knowing Anil, the full complement of wildlife camera gear packed for the unexpected.

The plan was simple. Anil had just acquired a property in Rathugala, deep in the Eastern Province of Sri Lanka — in the heart of Vedda country. The idea was to get a feel for the land, a preliminary exploration ahead of designing a jungle hideout on the site. Our mutual friend Nalinda, a gifted architect with an eye for harmony between structure and nature, was onboard to begin dreaming up what this hideout could be.

We set off before sunrise from Anil’s ancestral home in Dikkumbura. Five hours of winding roads and changing landscapes brought us to Rathugala. Along the way, we grabbed breakfast in Wellawaya, where we also told our hosts to expect us back for a very late lunch. Spirits were high; the morning air was cool, and Anil was already scanning the skies and treetops for any signs of wildlife.

When we finally reached the property, it was everything we hoped for — rugged, quiet, and full of potential. The terrain was rich and untouched, with thick jungle all around. As Nalinda took in the environment, ideas began to emerge: minimal footprint, open design, sustainable materials — a hideout that sits quietly within nature rather than against it. There’s something special about brainstorming in a place like this, away from screens and city noise, with the natural world as your backdrop.

Unfortunately, the wildlife wasn’t quite as cooperative. Despite Anil’s readiness, the forest kept its distance that day. With the initial discussions wrapped up and the light beginning to change, we decided to head back, anticipating the warm meal that waited for us in Wellawaya.

Only, it didn’t.

Our lunch plans fell through — the hosts, assuming we wouldn’t make it back, hadn’t prepared anything. Hungry and mildly disappointed, we pushed on in search of a nearby spot for rice and curry, which, in  truth, didn’t quite hit the mark either.

But then — a twist.

Just outside Thanamalwila, near the edges of Lunugamvehera National Park, we spot a parked safari jeep. Curious, Anil struck up a conversation with the driver. Turns out, he was waiting for a guest — an Austrian-American traveller named Andree — who had a few hours left in Sri Lanka and wanted to squeeze in a quick safari before flying home that night.

Anil, never short on charm or spontaneity, convinced him to split the fare and let us tag along. Andree, gracious and intrigued, agreed. And just like that, we were back in the wild, this time with a bit of luck on our side.

The safari proved worthwhile. We finally caught glimpses of wildlife — enough for Anil to get behind his lens and chase a few worthy shots. The light was soft, the landscape glowing in the late afternoon sun, and for a brief while, everything aligned — the road trip, the project, and the thrill of the wild.

We invited Andree to join us for a proper dinner and a few drinks en route to the airport. He was keen, but his tour operator wasn’t too thrilled about a detour that might risk a missed flight. Understandably, he had to decline.

As we watched his vehicle disappear into the dusk, we couldn’t help but laugh at the day’s unfolding. It had all the elements: an early start, a dream site, a failed lunch, a chance encounter, and finally, that magic moment in the jungle.

Designs will come, plans will be drawn, and construction will eventually begin. But it’s days like these,— spontaneous, unpredictable, and quietly beautiful — just reminding us why we do what we do.