Journey Through the Uva Highlands – A Memoir of April 1998

 by Turrance Nandasara

Introduction: A Road Into Memory

April 1998 remains one of the most meaningful travel chapters of my life. It was the Sinhala and Tamil New Year season, a time when the island slows down, yet the mountains of Uva seem to breathe with a deeper calm. I travelled in my faithful old companion—the 6th Generation Nissan Sunny/Sentra (B12), a 1990 model that had already carried me across many rough and forgotten roads of the hill country.

This journey took me through the Uva Province, across abandoned tea estates, burnt factories from the unrest of the late 1980s, and two of Sri Lanka’s most iconic waterfalls—Dunhinda and Bambarakanda. Fourteen photographs captured during this trip now serve as windows into that moment in time.

Dunhinda Waterfall: The Mist of Badulla

[Insert Photo 1: Dunhinda Junction signboard]

Dunhinda Waterfall does not reveal itself easily. Situated along the Badulla–Mahiyangana Road, about 5 kilometres north of Badulla, the entrance at Dunhinda Junction is clearly marked. From there begins a 1.5‑kilometre jungle footpath, a trail alive with birdsong, the scent of wet leaves, and the distant rumble of falling water.

[Insert Photo 2: Jungle footpath] [Insert Photo 3: First glimpse of the mist]

As I walked deeper into the forest, the sound grew louder until the waterfall appeared through a veil of white spray. The name Dunhinda—meaning “smoky vapour”—felt perfectly apt. The plume of mist rising from the base drifted across the valley like a living presence.

[Insert Photo 4: Main observation platform view]

Standing on the observation platform, I felt the cool droplets settle on my skin. It felt as though the waterfall itself was greeting me.

Through Tipila Tea Estate: Beauty and Sorrow Intertwined

[Insert Photo 5: Burnt tea factory ruins]

Leaving Badulla, I drove through the Tipila tea estate, a landscape of haunting contrasts. The hills rolled out in perfect green waves, yet scattered among them were the charred remains of tea factories burnt during the unrest of the late 1980s and early 1990s.

These ruins were not just abandoned buildings—they were reminders of livelihoods lost and communities disrupted. The silence around them carried a weight that words struggle to hold.

[Insert Photo 6: The Sunny/Sentra on an estate road]

My old Sunny handled the rough estate roads with its familiar resilience. Every bend revealed a new valley, a new angle of light, a new reminder of how beauty and sorrow often coexist in the hill country.

[Insert Photo 7: Valley view from Tipila]

[Insert Photo 8: Estate paths or line rooms]

The tea bushes glowed in the afternoon sun, and the wind carried the scent of eucalyptus and damp soil. It was a landscape that felt both wounded and eternal.

Bambarakanda Falls: Crown Jewel of the Highlands

[Insert Photo 9: Kalupahana junction]

From Kalupahana, the road climbs into one of the most serene corners of the Sri Lankan highlands—the Kalupahana Valley. Here stands Bambarakanda Falls, the tallest waterfall in Sri Lanka at 263 metres (863 feet), ranked 461st in the world. It is formed by the Kuda Oya, a tributary of the Walawe River, which begins in the Horton Plains.

[Insert Photo 10: Pine forest road]

What makes Bambarakanda unique is its setting. Instead of a tropical broadleaf forest, the waterfall rises from a pine‑covered landscape, giving it an almost foreign character. The narrow road, about 5 kilometres from the A4 highway, winds upward with spectacular vantage points.

[Insert Photo 11: Distant view of Bambarakanda]

At certain bends, the waterfall appeared as a silver thread; at others, it towered like a white pillar against the dark rock.

[Insert Photo 12: Base of the waterfall]

Standing at the base, I felt dwarfed by its height. The spray drifted across the valley, catching the sunlight in fleeting rainbows.

Closing Reflection: A Journey That Stayed With Me

[Insert Photo 13: The Sunny/Sentra against a valley backdrop]

That April journey—through waterfalls, ruined factories, pine forests, and tea‑covered hills—remains one of the most meaningful travels of my life. The beauty of the Uva highlands, the quiet resilience of its landscapes, and the memories captured in my 14 photographs still stay with me.

[Insert Photo 14: Final sunset or closing landscape]

Travelling in my old Sunny, feeling every bump of the rough hill‑country roads, I realised that journeys are not measured only in distance. They are measured in the emotions they stir, the histories they reveal, and the stories they leave behind.

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