This 300km trail through Sri Lanka's dramatic tea country made the annual 'World's Greatest Places' list. Here's what it's like to hike it

In recent years, few countries have been dealt quite as bad a hand as Sri Lanka. There’s been civil war and natural disasters, terrorist attacks and political crises. It all feels doubly unfair because the south Asian island is so beloved. No one dithers over it; in fact, no one speaks badly of it at all. Thankfully, Sri Lanka now seems to have entered a much-deserved period of stability and, in January, it set a new tourist record.

After the 2019 Easter bombing atrocity — in which three churches and three hotels were targeted in the capital, Colombo — Miguel Cunat, a partner at Sustainable Sri Lanka, found himself in conversation with ‘a gentleman who was working with the EU’ and on the hunt for a standout project to fund, one that would require the involvement of local communities and help strengthen and revitalise the country’s tourism industry. It may not surprise you that Miguel had exactly the project to hand — a 300km walking trail that, viewed as a whole, looks like a fishhook snagged on the country’s mountainous interior.

About 15 years ago, the sustainability pioneer and long-time Sri Lankan resident decided to strike out in search of a mysterious trail in Haputale, detailed on a survey map. To cut a long story short, he found it and walked it, arranging to stay on the tea-growing estates through which he passed. In the ensuing six or seven years, he returned again and again, sometimes with friends and family, and simply kept walking, connecting up long-forgotten strands of track and road. The EU and USAID (recently defunded by Donald Trump) covered three years of development and so the 22-stage Pekoe Trail was born.

Earlier this year, it was included on Time's annual World's Greatest Places list.

On Stage Eight, a fleeting, brilliant swoosh of blue catches the eye of our guide, Kith. It’s a bee-eater bird. They have exceptional eyesight to catch the bees that sustain them mid flight, as well as a violent streak, smashing the fragile insects into tree trunks to expel their stingers. Kith’s own enviable eyesight allows him to glimpse and point out yellow-fronted barbers, endemic to Sri Lanka, and a majestic crested serpent eagle. Stage Eight is a 16km, half-day walk, which we complete in reverse, from Bogawantalawa to Norwood. One of the most beautiful stages of the total Trail, it starts in Bogawantalawa Tea Estates with a short and sharp ascent. It’s already warm, so I ask if we could start earlier the following day.

‘No,’ says Kith, ‘unless you want to be eaten by a leopard.’

Point taken. ‘There’s probably one looking at you right now,’ he adds. The Sri Lankan leopard is a sub-species of the animal you might have been lucky enough to spot in Africa, but it’s much bigger (the males can weigh more than 75kg) thanks to something called ‘island gigantism’, a biological phenomenon that occurs when an isolated animal doesn’t have to struggle with as much competition as its mainland cousins. They have a proclivity for snacking on pet dogs and it’s hard not to shake the thought of their citrine-coloured eyes tracking us through the undergrowth.

Bogawantalawa and Norwood are part of the Golden Valley of Tea — the Pekoe Trail passes through 21 tea estates altogether — and the tea grown here is special for multiple reasons, but chiefly because it’s still cultivated by hand and grown in some of the most pristine conditions on Earth. Kith points out lichen icing the trunks of the trees we stumble past. The grey-blue crusty growth is an indicator species; in this case of air pollution. No lichen means that the air is heavily polluted with sulphur dioxide, a by-product of burning fossil fuels. In this Golden Valley, however, it grows in abundance.

Miguel has a different moniker for the region — ‘the Beverly Hills of the hill country’ — because of the increasing number of ‘high-end resorts’. One of the longest standing is Ceylon Tea Trails, five historic planters’ bungalows stippled along the banks of Castlereigh Reservoir. It’s easiest to get from one to the next by boat or kayak. In the early morning, the soft hills that slope down towards the reservoir’s banks are reflected in the glass-like water. The low-slung sun and a gossamer-fine mist blurs perspective so that, travelling across it, each one looks like a two dimensional stage set. The bungalows can be taken on an exclusive-use or room-only basis; Summerville has the best, uninterrupted views, Castlereagh has immaculately kept gardens, Norwood is somewhat more modern in comparison. They’re all tranquil, portals back in time. There are croquet lawns and panelled libraries, grog trays and spring-fed swimming pools, and dinner is a languid, drawn-out affair that includes a soup course. In-room, Balinese-style massages can be organised by your bungalow’s butler, to help soothe weary limbs.

Stage Seven is an easier walk that begins in Kotagala, winds past the blue-roofed Chrysler Farm Tea Factory and deposits you, once again, in Norwood. I was travelling with Lightfoot and the guides recommend stopping for a tea-inspired picnic lunch in a grassy, secluded spot or one with soaring views of fabled Adam’s Peak. The landscape is similar to Stage Eight — a series of undulating, neolithic-like mounds smothered in emerald-green plants you snake your way around — but it’s more populated. Children rush out to greet us to a now familiar chorus of ‘hi’, ‘how are you?’, ‘what’s your name?’ and ‘bye’. They tell us their names and how old they are. An ebullient dog that has, so far, evaded a leopard’s hungry jaws, follows us for a few kilometres before careering back home. The majority of tea pickers are descendants of indentured Hindu Tamil labourers, transported from India to Sri Lanka by the British. In accordance with their religion, they eat little to no meat and let their pets roam free — even if it means losing the odd one to a certain rosette-patterned large cat. It was those first Tamil workers, forcibly separated from friends and family, who created the many pathways that connect the various estates and villages and now make up the Pekoe Trail.

We are joined by three guides on our next day of walking, including Subapriya, who has two sisters and balances guiding tourists with her school studies. One day, she wants to work in finance or IT; jobs that, until recently, have only been accessible to men. Working for the Pekoe Trail — which, as well as guides, employs trail-management and ranger teams and whose existence has led to a swell in hospitality jobs — means that she also has the financial means to do so.

Miguel is delighted that 80% of walkers traversing the trail are domestic travellers, often exploring their country’s heartland for the first time, but says: ‘We need to make sure this organisation operates at a level of professionalism unseen in Sri Lanka.’ Right now, he is campaigning for Green Flag certification, ‘the world standard for recreational trails’, and is looking for stage and kilometre sponsors. Walkers (and sponsors) from all over the world are welcome with open arms.

Lightfoot offers nine-night tailormade holidays to Sri Lanka from £4,520 per person basis, including flights and domestic transfers, one night at The Wallawwa on a B&B basis, four nights at Ceylon Tea Trails on a full-board basis, plus two days of guided walking, and four nights at Santani on a full-board basis.