A new rail journey is helping to heal the wounds of Sri Lanka's civil war

Telegraph

05-04-2025

It didn't take long for me to get drawn into my first Michael Portillo moment.
'Come, come and eat with us!' came the cry from a family grouping eagerly tucking into rice and curry spread out on a banana leaf as the train eased into the new day and the journey from Colombo Fort to Jaffna.
Curiosity had got the better of me. I was up in the posh seats (padded chairs; air conditioning), but wanted to wander through the train and get a sense of who else was on board and what the other compartments were like.
The friendly family was in Second Class – perfectly comfortable, with table space enough for a full spread. 'It's very good, no? Come and join us! Can you sing?'
It was a bit early in the day for that – just gone 7am – so I declined the invitation to burst into song, but gave an approximation of a little jig. The Thameslink service from Bedford to Brighton this was not.
I've travelled on lots of trains in Sri Lanka, a country of quite extraordinary beauty and generous-hearted people, but this was something very special: the Yal Devi Express from Colombo to Jaffna.
For years during Sri Lanka's protracted civil war, services ceased between the two cities which so symbolised the division between Tamils and Sinhalese, Hindu and Buddhist, north (or north-east) and south.
And here I was on a train that was once again linking Colombo and Jaffna, a train running on gleaming new tracks providing a lifeline between two previously warring communities – but also a train giving travellers like me the possibility of hugely expanding their perceptions of this treasure trove of an island in the Indian Ocean.
The family I'd joshed and eaten rice with was Tamil. So, too, was the fellow passenger sitting next to me in the First Class carriage as we'd pulled away from Colombo Fort at the magical pre-dawn time of 05.45. One of very few from his school cohort who hadn't fled abroad during the war, Gobi had stayed and studied, working his way up in a firm selling life assurance. He'd also been a good son, providing vital support for ageing and ailing parents, who he was on his way to visit now.
'Milk tea? Milk tea? Oh we do love a milk tea!'
Our exchanges were broken by excited cries across the aisle coming from a group of animated Sinhalese ladies, former school friends, now mothers of strapping children themselves, who were travelling together (minus husbands) to visit Anuradhapura, a sacred city of Buddhist statutory and stupas (dome-shaped shrines) and Sri Lanka's ancient capital.
They were clearly enjoying a good old catch up, the prospect of fresh discoveries ahead – and, more immediately, some 'milk tea', a wickedly calorific concoction involving black tea, condensed milk and several spoons of sugar – all boiled up together and served piping hot.
The ladies confessed that they did not speak Tamil – 'our generation did not learn it… but our children will!' – but nevertheless showed interest in Gobi and plied him (in English) with questions about the north and eastern sides of the island, to them for so long out of bounds.
I'd already heard plenty about the north to whet the appetite: the rice-based hoppers and coconut-infused crab curries; the puja rituals of the Nallur Kandaswamy temple; the elegant Dutch-era fort and lingering Portuguese influences; the sacred waters of Keerimalai.
An equine-loving friend had told me breathlessly of the island of Delft and the wild horses descended from those originally transported there from Arabia; another spoke of the region's unblemished beaches, of the sense of time having stood still, of the mangroves providing sanctuary for exotic migrating birds. I looked forward to exploring these and much more from my base in the newly-opened (and history-replete) Mahesa Bhawan boutique villa in Jaffna.
The Yal Devi Express – inaugurated in 1956 and affectionately known as the 'Queen of Jaffna' – made the last of its sorties between Colombo and Jaffna in 1990, when damage to the track meant the route was no longer passable or safe. Following extensive work on the war-damaged section of the line, the train made its first return in 2014, but the comeback proved premature as it soon became clear that other parts of the line were in need of serious restoration and the long-awaited connection with the north was at best stop and start.
The Covid pandemic and political turmoil of 2022 did not speed matters, but late last year (2024), work on the new, improved line was finally declared complete and the 'Queen of Jaffna' was at last back on track.
I had been looking forward to this journey for years – not because it promised to be Sri Lanka's most scenic (the journey from Kandy to Badulla through tea plantation territory lays claim to that), but because it bore testimony to the fact Sri Lanka was no longer tearing itself apart, and promised to serve as an introduction to a tantalisingly different side of the island.
At around the time I was being offered rice and curry on a banana leaf, the sun was rising and the tall blocks and slightly incongruous Lotus Tower of modern-day Colombo had been replaced with gentler scenes of swaying palm trees and paddy fields; in one small settlement I spotted a man in flip-flops on a motor bike; in another, alms-seeking Buddhist monks attired in orange robes.
Sri Lanka's lush vegetation and striking scenery make any journey here a pleasure – as do the people you share it with. As I embarked on further wanderings along the train, I shared happy exchanges with guards in peaked caps and crisp white uniforms, the legendary milk tea brewers in the buffet car and a friendly man called Vass who had spent years living and working in Hounslow but had chosen to come home for his golden years. 'Call me; visit me!' he implored.
I also bumped into a film producer named Ayesha, who was travelling to the north to give Tamil women the tools to tell their stories and to record them for posterity. 'I had very negative images of Jaffna when I was growing up and the war was on,' said Ayesha. 'But going there has changed my view. And while there are problems all over the country, they are much worse in the north.
'We hope through this film project to help the women of the north, not educated, not rich, to tell their stories, to rebuild their lives.'
It was heartening to hear these words and to realise that there are genuine efforts being made to build bridges between the two communities (though my experiences over the coming days alerted me to the fact that for many, the wounds of war still run deep).
I returned to my seat for a final chat with Gobi, sharing his pride in the fact that he had recently been promoted to branch manager and enjoying hearing him say how much he loved his country and was glad to have stayed.
Together we looked out of the window as we came to Elephant Pass, the strategically vital causeway linking the Jaffna peninsula with the mainland. The surrounding land was flat, the horizon wide; in this once fiercely-contested spot, the hand of history was palpable.
And then, almost too soon, at a little past midday, our destination approached and after just over seven hours and 250 miles it was time to say our farewells.
Trains unite and bring people together; they also open up new worlds. I gave a little whoop as I descended onto the bustling platform and posed for a photo beneath the sign that read Jaffna.
More than four decades after my first visit to Sri Lanka, I'd finally made it. One small step for a rail aficionado; one giant leap for a country.
How to do it
Adrian Bridge was a guest of the Experience Travel Group which offers a 12-night trip to Sri Lanka including international flights, first-class train tickets from Colombo to Jaffna, three nights at Maniumpathy boutique villa in Colombo, four nights in Mahesa Bhawan in Jaffna, four nights at the Jungle Beach Resort north of Trincomalee and one night at the Notary's House close to Colombo Airport.
Stays are on a B&B basis with some additional meals; also included are the services of a chauffeur-guide. From £4,500pp; experiencetravelgroup.com