Mist lifted gently off the emerald hills as I cradled a cup of fragrant Ceylon tea, watching the valley unfold below in endless layers of green. We were staying at Thotalagala, a beautifully restored 19th-century planter’s bungalow perched in the southeastern highlands of Sri Lanka, near Haputale—a region where tea gardens ripple down the hillsides and history clings softly to the mountain air.
Unlike its more touristed neighbours, Ella and Nuwara Eliya, Haputale remains an insider’s secret—ideal for travellers seeking serenity, authenticity, and unfiltered connection to the land and its stories.
Our days began in gentle rhythm, with breakfasts served outdoors beneath a vast blue sky—bowls of vibrant tropical fruit, crisp hoppers at the edges, and slices of fresh-baked bread still warm from the oven. There was no rush here. Mornings were for wandering through manicured lawns, dipping into the hillside pool, or losing oneself in a book on a sun-dappled verandah. I sketched the scenes before me, a quiet practice that anchored me to the moment and heightened my awareness of the beauty around me.
In Haputale, tea isn’t just a drink—it’s a culture, a history, a way of life. One afternoon, we walked through rolling plantations, where women in jewel-toned saris expertly plucked two leaves and a bud, tossing them with practised grace into baskets slung across their backs. This was the start of a global journey, one that would eventually steep in teacups from Tokyo to Toronto.
We followed the leaves to the Dambatenne Tea Factory, built in 1890 by Sir Thomas Lipton himself. Inside, the air was rich with the scent of oxidising leaves, and the rhythmic clatter of machinery told the story of a process that has remained nearly unchanged for over a century—rolling, fermenting, drying, and sorting. Witnessing it felt like stepping into a living museum, still very much in motion.
One morning, we walked through village trails framed by tea bushes and eucalyptus trees. Women tended to kitchen gardens bursting with beans and greens, while elders lounged on porches, their verandahs offering million-dollar views across mist-veiled valleys. Overhead, bulbuls, minivets, and barbets flitted through the trees. Children played barefoot cricket with makeshift bats near small shrines and Hindu temples, the scent of incense wafting through the air.
Just a short drive away, we visited Adisham Bungalow, an elegant English Tudor-style mansion that seemed transplanted straight from the English countryside. Built in the 1930s by Sir Thomas Villiers, a British planter, it now houses Benedictine monks, and visitors are welcome to explore its manicured gardens, stone chapel, and wood-panelled rooms.
We rose early one morning for the tuk-tuk ride to Lipton’s Seat, a dramatic lookout once favoured by Lipton himself. At 1,970 metres above sea level, the panorama unfurled across nearly the entire island, from the southern coast to Adam’s Peak. A statue of Lipton still sits here, surveying what was once his empire.
Many estates remain home to the descendants of Tamil workers brought from South India during colonial times. They live in line rooms, long rows of housing from the British era. Life is still hard—wages modest, work demanding—but pride in craftsmanship endures. In the fields, women chatted to me in Tamil, my mother tongue, as our driver pointed out the rarity of white and silver tea blossoms.
Back at Thotalagala, afternoons meant high tea—tiered trays of flaky scones, lentil vadas, coconut tarts, and spice-scented cakes. On another day, my son and I joined Chef Lakshantha for a cooking session on the lawns, pounding coconut for sambol, stirring clay pot curries, and listening to mustard seeds crackle in hot oil. Cooking here was meditative, grounded in tradition, and accompanied by birdsong.
Haputale was also a base for day trips. We picnicked at Diyaluma Falls, swam in natural pools carved into cascading rock, and hiked through Horton Plains—a landscape of grasslands and cloud forests where sambar deer and langurs appeared through the mist. At Ella’s Nine Arch Bridge, built in 1921 and still carrying trains across a deep gorge, the engineering marvel met the romance of history.
Evenings brought firelit gatherings, where guests from across the world played board games, sipped cocktails, and traded stories. Candlelit dinners stretched into conversations under starry skies. One night, silence itself became company, broken only by the call of an owl and the sigh of wind through the trees.
Tea, nature, and history coalesce into something rare and restorative in this quiet corner of Sri Lanka. Time stretches and softens. Days feel like well-turned pages in a travel journal. Long after you’ve left, the scent of fresh tea and the rustle of leaves linger in memory—reminding you to slow down and savour the present.
Getting There: Haputale is a 6 hour journey by road from Colombo. The best way is to hire a taxi.
Where to stay: Thotalagala is the most luxurious option- restored planters bungalow with suites, butler service and an infinity pool. They offer high teas, cookery classes and treks. Another option is the Capoe house with three well furnished bedrooms, nestled near the mountains and many waterfalls.
Things to do: Take a tour of the tea factory, take a village walk, visit the railway bridge at Ella, take a cookery class. Visit Adisham Bungalow, a charming colonial-era mansion in Haputale, now a monastery.
Q1: Where is Haputale located?
Haputale is a small town in Sri Lanka’s central highlands, about 190 km from Colombo, known for its tea estates and misty valleys.
Q2: What are the top things to do in Haputale?
Highlights include visiting Lipton’s Seat, exploring Adisham Bungalow, walking through tea plantations, and staying in restored colonial bungalows.
Q3: How is Haputale different from Ella or Nuwara Eliya?
Unlike its busier neighbours, Haputale offers a quieter, more authentic experience with fewer crowds, colonial-era charm, and pristine landscapes.
Q4: What is Haputale famous for?
Haputale is famous for its tea culture, scenic views, colonial heritage, and tranquil atmosphere—making it a favourite for slow travellers.
Q5: When is the best time to visit Haputale?
The best months are January to April and July to September, when the weather is cool, skies are clearer, and tea estates are lush.