12/07/2026
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐡 𝐀𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐘𝐚𝐥𝐚 𝐒𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬 (𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐌𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐏𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐓𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐘𝐨𝐮)
𝗪𝗲 𝗪𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗻'𝘁 𝗟𝘂𝗰𝗸𝘆 𝗪𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗟𝗲𝗼𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗱𝘀 𝗧𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗧𝗶𝗺𝗲... 𝗕𝘂𝘁 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗙𝗼𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗦𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗛𝗮𝗱 𝗠𝗮𝗴𝗶𝗰 𝗧𝗼 𝗚𝗶𝘃𝗲
(𝗖𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗲 & 𝗛𝗮𝗻𝗻𝗮𝗵 | 𝗬𝗮𝗹𝗮 𝗕𝗹𝗼𝗰𝗸 𝟱 & 𝟲 | 𝟭𝟱𝘁𝗵 𝗢𝗰𝘁𝗼𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟱)
There are days when a safari gives you everything you hoped for.
And then there are days that remind you why we should never try to control nature in the first place. Those are often the days that teach us what a real safari actually is.
This was one of those days.
A few days before this safari, I received a message from a guest called Celie. She told me she'd found my name through a Facebook travel group where someone had recommended my safaris because they felt more personal. She was staying in Mirissa and wanted to know whether I could organise a safari for her in Yala.
From her very first message, I had a feeling she was exactly the kind of traveller we'd enjoy hosting.
She wasn't looking for the quickest or cheapest safari. Instead, she asked thoughtful questions about how I plan the day, what wildlife we usually see, and how we try to avoid the crowds. I explained, as honestly as I could, why I only operate in Yala Block 5 & 6 instead of Block 1, where most safari companies go. I also explained that I like to do things a little differently. My safaris aren't just about the jeep ride. Everything is included, from park entrance tickets and the safari jeep to meals, guiding, and everything else needed for the day.
I also told her something I tell every guest.
Sometimes our safaris cost a little more than the jeep-only trips you see advertised online, and there's a reason for that. What we're trying to create isn't simply a ride through the national park. We want it to feel like a proper safari, something planned with care, time, and respect for both our guests and the wildlife.
The following day Celie messaged me again, sounding quite excited.
She'd met another traveller at her hotel called Hannah, and after talking about the safari, Hannah wanted to join too. There was just one small problem. Tomorrow was Hannah's last full day in Sri Lanka, so if we were going to make it happen, it had to be organised at very short notice.
Normally that might have been difficult.
But October falls during the monsoon season, which is usually one of the quietest times of year for us. Being a small safari operator that's still growing, we're lucky if we get two or three safaris during some months, especially around this time of year. So whenever an opportunity comes along, I'm genuinely grateful for it. Thankfully, arranging everything at the last minute wasn't too difficult.
I gave my trusted driver, Janitha Ayya, a quick call to make sure he was available.
He handles all of our safaris in Yala Block 5 & 6, and once he confirmed he was free, I got straight back to Celie. Just like that, everything was organised for the following morning.
October is actually one of my favourite times to visit Yala.
The first proper rains had arrived only a few days earlier, washing away months of dust that had built up during the dry season. The air smells completely different after that first rain. Fresh leaves, wet earth, new grass beginning to grow again. You can almost feel the park waking up, and the wildlife seems to enjoy it just as much. It's honestly one of the most beautiful times of year to be there.
The afternoon before the safari, I went out to buy everything we'd need for the following day. Because the booking had come in so late, there were still quite a few things to organise. I stopped by the supermarket, picked up all the supplies, spoke to Janitha Ayya once more to make sure everything was ready, and then headed home for an early night.
Well... at least that was the plan.
My alarm went off at 2 o'clock in the morning because breakfast still had to be prepared.
To be completely honest, my mum deserves most of the credit for that. She made most of the food while I helped wherever I could. We don't usually pack sandwiches and bananas like many safari breakfasts. Instead, we prepare the kind of breakfast we'd happily eat ourselves at home. Coconut rotti, dhal curry, coconut sambol, and a few other simple Sri Lankan dishes. Nothing fancy, just proper home-cooked food that keeps you warm and full during a long morning in the park.
Once everything was packed, I loaded all the food and supplies onto my scooter.
Yes... my scooter.
I always laugh when I tell people that part.
I live near Udawalawe, so it's about a forty-five minute ride to the meeting point near the Block 6 entrance. The roads were almost completely empty at that time of the morning. It was still dark, with nothing but the sound of crickets and the occasional bird beginning to wake up.
By about 4:30 a.m., I reached our meeting point near the Thanamalwila side of Yala.
Only a few minutes later, my phone buzzed.
It was Celie telling me they'd already arrived.
That genuinely surprised me because they were almost half an hour early, but it turned out to be a nice surprise. It meant we could get going before most of the other jeeps and hopefully reach the park entrance nice and early. After a quick hello, loading their bags into the jeep, and introducing everyone, we began making our way towards Yala.
Just as we started driving, a light drizzle began falling on the windscreen while the eastern sky slowly turned orange behind the clouds.
I smiled and told them that in Sri Lanka we have a saying that a little rain brings good luck.
"So," I said, "this is already a good start."
Did we get lucky that day?
I'll let you decide.
Within the first few minutes of turning onto the forest road, the sky slowly started changing from black to a soft orange. The rain had stopped by then, but the air was still cool and fresh, and you could really smell the wet earth after the first proper rains. Apart from a few peacocks calling somewhere in the distance, the forest was almost completely quiet.
Then, about a hundred metres ahead, I noticed something dark lying across the road.
At first I honestly thought it was a fallen tree branch or maybe a large rock. But I kept looking at it for another second or two and suddenly saw it move.
"Elephant ahead," I quietly said to my guests.
It turned out to be our very first sighting of the day.
A large bull elephant was standing right in the middle of the track. His whole body was dark from the rain, blending almost perfectly into the shadows around him. Janitha Ayya slowed the jeep straight away and stopped at a comfortable distance to give him plenty of space.
For a few seconds he just stood there looking at us.
Then he lifted his head, spread his ears, and made a short mock charge.
Nothing serious. Just his way of reminding us that we were visitors in his home.
Janitha Ayya calmly reversed the jeep, and almost immediately the elephant relaxed. He stood there for another few seconds, looked at us one last time, then wandered off into the forest, grumbling to himself as he disappeared.
It only lasted a minute or so, but what a way to start the morning.
Celie and Hannah were completely calm. They were just smiling, taking it all in.
I turned around and laughed.
"That's how you know you're really in Yala."
Celie laughed back and said, "I can already tell this is going to be a great day."
By about 5:45 a.m. we reached the entrance to Yala Block 5, and to our surprise we were the first jeep waiting for the gates to open. Everything still felt fresh after the rain. The air had that smell you only seem to get after a tropical shower. Peacocks were calling from the grasslands nearby while spotted deer grazed quietly close to the entrance, completely unbothered by us.
At six o'clock the gates opened, and we became the first vehicle into the park that morning. We were hoping our early start might give us a little extra luck before the rest of the jeeps arrived.
The park looked completely different after the rain.
The leaves looked fresh again, months of dust had disappeared, and as the first sunlight reached the ground you could actually see steam rising from the damp earth.
It didn't take long before we started seeing wildlife.
A Crested Serpent Eagle was perched high on a branch scanning the open grasslands below. A Malabar Pied Hornbill flew low across the track in front of us. Grey langurs were sitting high in the trees warming themselves in the morning sun, while a White-throated Kingfisher flashed across one of the puddles left behind by the rain.
Since it was Hannah's first safari, everything fascinated her. Even hearing peacocks calling somewhere across the forest made her smile. Celie was exactly the same. Calm, curious, and genuinely interested in everything we came across.
At one point we stopped to watch a male peacock displaying his feathers. He was putting on quite a performance, his tail spread wide trying his absolute best to impress the nearby females.
The only problem was...
None of them seemed interested.
I quietly said, "Maybe next time, brother."
I'm pretty sure the peacock didn't understand what I said because he carried on dancing anyway.
For the next couple of hours we simply explored the park the way we always do. Most of the time we drove slowly, stopping whenever something caught our attention. Every now and then we'd pick up the pace a little if we heard alarm calls from spotted deer or monkeys because they can sometimes lead us towards a leopard.
Then, at around 8 a.m., Janitha Ayya's phone rang.
Another driver had just radioed to say that a female leopard had crossed one of the forest tracks only a few seconds earlier. We weren't very far away, so we decided to go and see if our luck was in.
As we got closer, we could already see three jeeps slowly leaving the area while one jeep was still parked beside the narrow road, everyone inside staring into the thick forest on both sides.
We stopped about fifteen metres behind them, switched the engine off, and waited.
The forest there was beautiful. Tall margosa and banyan trees surrounded the road, while the undergrowth was so thick you couldn't see more than ten metres into the forest.
After a few minutes, the driver from the jeep in front slowly drove back towards us.
"We just missed her," he said.
Apparently the leopard had crossed the road only moments before we arrived. He'd only seen her for two or three seconds before she disappeared into the bushes.
Honestly, that's all it takes with a leopard.
One moment they're there.
The next moment they've completely vanished.
We waited quietly for another few minutes hoping she might come back out, but she never did. Eventually we accepted she'd moved on and continued with our safari.
That's wildlife.
Sometimes all you get is a glimpse.
Sometimes just a fresh paw print in the sand, an alarm call, or movement disappearing into the bushes.
You don't always get the sighting, but somehow your heart still races because you know just how close you were. That's something I really love about real safaris. They don't always give you what you hoped for, but they always leave you wondering what might be just around the next corner.
By about 9 a.m. we reached Veheragala Dam, a beautiful man-made reservoir that's become one of my favourite places to stop during the safari. The water was completely calm that morning, almost like a mirror, with a few eagles gliding overhead. It felt like the perfect place to take a short break, so we pulled over and set up our little picnic.
We unpacked the breakfast my mum had made earlier that morning and enjoyed it with nothing but the sound of the wind, the water, and birds calling in the distance. Honestly, I don't think there's a much better place to have breakfast.
Once we'd finished eating, we continued into Block 6.
You notice the difference almost straight away.
The landscape opens up, the roads feel quieter, and you hardly come across any other safari vehicles. It's one of the reasons I enjoy this part of Yala so much. It feels more relaxed, and you never feel like you're rushing from one sighting to the next.
Not long after entering, Janitha Ayya quietly pointed ahead.
"Elephant... twelve o'clock."
A huge bull elephant was slowly making his way towards us. I'd guess he easily weighed over four thousand kilos and stood somewhere around three to four metres tall. His tusks weren't especially long, but his size alone was enough to remind you just how impressive these animals really are.
Older bulls like him often live alone. Once they become mature, they usually leave the herd and spend most of their lives wandering the forest by themselves. They don't really have a fixed territory. They simply move from place to place, feeding, resting, and continuing their journey.
We stayed at a safe distance and just watched him slowly cross the road in front of us.
Moments like that are exactly why I love Block 6.
Nobody was rushing.
Nobody was trying to get the perfect photograph.
We simply sat there quietly and watched him go about his day.
Later that morning we arrived at Rathmal Wewa, a small lake that's well known among local guides for its crocodiles.
The recent rains had raised the water level just enough to make everything look fresh again. On one side of the lake there's a small stone spillway where water from the upper reservoir slowly flows down into the lower section. The water isn't very deep there, but the current is steady, and that's exactly why crocodiles love this spot.
As the water flows over the spillway, fish get carried along with it, making it one of the easiest places for crocodiles to find a meal. You could almost call it a natural buffet.
We parked the jeep at a safe distance, switched off the engine, and just watched.
Along the edge of the lake and around the shallow pools below the spillway, I counted around twelve or thirteen crocodiles of different sizes. Some were only small juveniles, maybe about a metre long, while a few others were absolute giants, easily four metres or more.
Most of them weren't moving at all.
They were simply lying there with their mouths wide open.
A lot of people think they're doing that because they're hungry or trying to scare something away, but that's actually not the reason. Crocodiles open their mouths to help regulate their body temperature. Since they can't sweat like we do, leaving their mouths open helps them cool down while they're basking in the sun.
It's one of those little things that people often find interesting once it's explained.
A little further along the road, the jeep suddenly came to a stop.
Janitha Ayya was pointing at something just beside us, but from where I was sitting I couldn't see anything.
"Just below us," he said quietly.
I looked again.
Still nothing.
For a second I even started wondering if I was missing something obvious.
Then my eyes finally adjusted.
There they were.
Three golden jackals, no more than ten metres away.
I honestly couldn't believe I'd missed them. Their fur blended so perfectly with the dry soil and fallen leaves that they were almost invisible until you knew exactly where to look.
It was a great reminder of just how well wild animals camouflage themselves. Sometimes they're right in front of you, and you still don't see them.
As soon as Celie spotted them, she lit up with excitement.
At first I couldn't quite understand why she was so excited about jackals. They're always a nice sighting, of course, but her reaction was something else.
Later she explained that she's a huge dog lover.
She said anything related to dogs immediately catches her attention, and seeing the wild cousins of domestic dogs in their natural habitat had become the highlight of her entire safari.
After that, she couldn't stop smiling.
By then it was getting close to midday, and the temperature was starting to rise. Even so, the forest was still surprisingly active.
Hannah was especially enjoying the birdlife. She was constantly scanning the trees, pointing out different birds and asking questions about them. I always enjoy moments like that because it's nice when someone is interested in learning about what they're seeing rather than simply taking a photograph and moving on.
Then a male Asian Paradise Flycatcher flew across the road in front of us.
If you've ever seen one, you'll know why it's called a paradise flycatcher. The male has these incredibly long orange tail feathers that seem to float behind him as he flies.
Celie managed to spot it straight away.
Poor Hannah missed it.
Sometimes that's just how birdwatching goes. You can spend all morning looking for a particular species, then look away for two seconds and it's gone.
A little later we reached Lunugamvehera Reservoir, the largest lake in the area.
Looking across the water, I could just make out a herd of elephants moving slowly through the distance. They were so far away they looked like tiny grey dots through the heat haze, but thankfully we carry binoculars in the jeep, so both Celie and Hannah were able to get a much better look.
We stayed there quietly for a few minutes.
No engines.
No conversations.
Just watching the elephants in the distance while the wind moved across the water and egrets called somewhere along the shoreline.
Sometimes it's nice to simply sit still for a while instead of always driving to the next sighting
By the time we left the park, both Celie and Hannah told me how much they'd enjoyed the day.
We hadn't seen a leopard.
But that didn't seem to matter to them.
From the very beginning, they understood something that not every traveller does. Nature doesn't work on promises, and a real safari has never been about ticking animals off a list. It's about spending time in a wild place and appreciating whatever that day decides to offer you.
I really appreciated that about them.
Even without the famous leopard sighting, they enjoyed everything else the park had given us. The fresh smell of the forest after the rain. Birds calling across the lakes. Elephants feeding peacefully through the grasslands. Crocodiles lying along the water's edge. The three jackals blending perfectly into the dry ground. Even the smaller details that many people never notice.
They genuinely appreciated all of it.
One moment I still remember happened after the rain earlier that morning.
The two of them were talking to each other when one suddenly said,
"Do you notice how fresh the soil and the whole forest smells?"
Most people don't notice things like that.
Nature lovers usually do.
Hearing them say that honestly made me smile because it showed they weren't only looking for the next animal. They were actually experiencing the place they had come all this way to visit.
For me, that's what a safari is really about.
Of course I'd love every guest to see a leopard. I'd probably be just as excited as they are if one walked out in front of us.
But if the only thing that decides whether the day was successful is one animal, I think we miss so much of what makes places like Yala special.
This safari reminded me of that.
Yes, part of me wished they could have seen their first leopard.
But at the same time, I felt genuinely grateful.
Grateful that they arrived with open minds, enjoyed everything the forest gave us, and left with smiles on their faces. We still spent the day watching elephants, birds, crocodiles, jackals, monkeys, and a forest that had come back to life after the first proper rains.
Some safaris give you that one famous photograph everyone hopes to take home.
A leopard resting on a tree branch.
A perfect picture that ends up on social media.
Those are wonderful moments, and there's nothing wrong with hoping for them.
But then there are other safaris.
The quieter ones.
The ones that remind you the wild isn't here to perform for us. Animals don't appear because we booked a safari or because we've travelled a long way. They appear when they choose to, and that's exactly how it should be.
This was one of those days.
We didn't see the leopard.
Instead, we watched the forest breathing again after the rains. We watched elephants feeding peacefully, listened to birds calling from every direction, and enjoyed that unforgettable smell of wet earth that always comes with the first rains of the season.
Those are the moments that stay with me long after the safari is over.
And honestly, I wouldn't trade this day for anything.
Seeing Celie and Hannah leave happy, even without the sighting everyone dreams about, meant far more to me than another leopard photograph ever could.
This is Yala Ethical Safari by Nomad Trails Sri Lanka.
No fake promises.
Just honest safaris, where the wild leads and we quietly follow with respect. ❤️
PS: AI Grammar Correction Tool has been used here.
