Forget India, Sri Lanka is the ultimate destination for rail lovers

Writing in his memoirs, Leonard Woolf said that the hills of Sri Lanka “rise and fall all round you in great waves, in a long dark chain covered with jungle”.

It was in search of these great waves that I had travelled to the country, to explore its vast plains and rugged hilltops. Woolf, the husband of writer Virginia, moved to then-Ceylon in 1904, administering the Southern Province as part of the British Empire’s civil service.

On first arriving, he writes he felt like he was “living in a dream”. Mine was no less surreal – my first encounter, remarkably, was with two elephants, standing by the roadside and fidgeting from side to side.

Sri Lanka’s roads are quiet and alluring, especially as elephant spotting is often a part of the bargain. But the more romantic way to explore the country is on its winding railways, chugging high into impossibly verdant tea country.

First constructed in 1858 by the British, Sri Lanka’s network expanded quickly, stretching across the palm-fringed coast and into the highlands. While India might be renowned on the tourist trail, Sri Lanka’s railways are a decidedly quieter affair – but no less impressive.

I was travelling between Kandy, the historic capital, and the tea country around Bandarawela, some 6,000ft above sea level. I embarked at the pastel-hued Peradeniya Junction, one of the oldest stations in Sri Lanka, and an important one – linking the Main Line, which runs from Colombo to Badulla, and the Matale Line, snaking into the centre of the island.

The journey takes around four hours. A pensive traveller could easily spend all of that time gazing through the wide picture windows as the train surges through swampy rice fields and villages, crossing over breathtaking, wide river formations. Its rhythm is only broken by systematic stops into tiny stations, each decorated in pale pinks and hazy azure.

If you’re more action-prone, take a wander through the carriages. In air-conditioned first class, seats can be twisted, turned and reformed into new configurations, meaning each group forms private bubbles of entertainment. In second class, the mood is more relaxed, with its 1970s-style leather banquettes and pull-down windows.

The fun is in moving between them. Sharp metal plates slide across one another, baying to take a toe from unsuspecting passengers. And exterior doors are sometimes left open, too. Not, perhaps, the safest choice, but one that does allow, tentatively, an even more impressive view of the Sri Lankan countryside.

Leonard Woolf, in his memoirs, describes a man almost falling out of one of these openings. He “caught him round the waist and held him up,” clinging on until they pulled into a station. The episode was playing through my mind as we curved around the treacherous mountain edges, although my journey was, thankfully, much less eventful.

These are not the densely packed trains of India’s railways, and – like the nation as a whole – Sri Lanka’s network is noticeably less hectic than its northern neighbour.

The night before boarding the train, Bernard Machado, a Sri Lankan guide and historian, took my group for a drink at the tennis club in Kandy. Subdued lighting ranged over the city like footlights. We sat at heavy wooden tables, drinking gin or ice-cold beer.

Devilled chicken and spiced crisps were placed on the starched tablecloth, while cricket played silently on the television. When Woolf visited, he described the club as having a “theatrical unreality” about it, the “stage and the scenery” being imperialism. Now, it’s a place for well-to-do Sri Lankans, although that unreality hasn’t quite been shrugged off.

Back on the rails, food is a more animated affair. Crispy poppadoms and fragrant samosas are hauled through the carriage by a team of industrious snack-sellers; baskets of shelled peanuts are offered along the aisle. A couple sitting in front of me unpeeled identical banana-leaf bundles, dotted with bright sambol, sumptuous mango curry and red rice. An enviable packed lunch.

While the tiny feasts were a distraction, we were soon moving through vertiginous tea plantations, where it was time to disembark. The fields were first used to grow coffee by British imperialists, but after a series of disastrous harvests in the late 19th century, the crop was changed to tea. Their gnarly bushes are now tended to by groups of pickers, each flicking the leaves over their shoulders into brightly coloured bags.

Meanwhile, the hills themselves are a place of pilgrimage. Nearby Adam’s Peak is scaled by Buddhists, Hindus, Muslims and Christians, ideally during the full moon. “In Sri Lanka, we believe there’s a rabbit in the moon, not a man,” said Machado. Soon, I was seeing rabbit-in-moon motifs everywhere.

Most tourists won’t need the creature at all though – the region is criss-crossed with exemplary hiking routes, all ideal for a daytime adventure. To explore them more widely, stay at the Orient Hotel, a homely base with impeccable customer service. Staff are eager to arrange treks to nearby waterfalls or direct guests in regional cooking courses.

And this is but a small part of a country that is fervently courting tourists after years of instability. To see more of the landscape, travel south to the breezy coastal town of Galle, home to colonial lighthouses and superlative seafood.

In the centre of the island, the imposing Sigiriya Rock juts out of forest-filled plains – climb the 1,200 steps to its summit to explore the remains of an ancient palace.

Nearby is Polonnaruwa, a cave complex of temples, where visitors can walk among psychedelic repeating paintings of the Buddha.

In addition to reaching into the hill country, the rail network can move you between the capital, Colombo, and into the central part of the country, or up to Trincomalee in the north.

As Woolf would have it, Sri Lanka, with its “insect-humming air”, is a captivating place to explore – especially if you’re on the rails.

Sophie Dickinson was a guest of Voyage Jules Verne, which offers an eight-day Highlights of Sri Lanka package, including a rail journey between Kandy and Bandarawela, a driver and guide, entrance to attractions, hotel accommodation, most meals and return flights. Prices start at £2,245pp.