We reached Weligama on the 10th, a little tired and sleep-deprived, but decided to walk to the hotel instead of taking a tuk-tuk, because I’m still in the phase of testing my limits—seeing how safely I can navigate with a backpack. By the time we arrived (a 20-minute walk), we were drenched in sweat, thanks to that thick coastal humidity. We quickly learned, however, that in Weligama, a cold coconut is always less than a minute away. This one came with the compliments of our hotel, and it was among the best coconuts I have tasted so far.

Weligama is the first “surf village” I have ever visited. The vibe is unmistakable: no one is here to not surf. Every business caters to a laid-back community, whose main KPI is simply watching the waves. Niki’s routine was set: wake up early, grab breakfast on the beach, and surf until noon. That left me with a menu of options: sleep in, hit the nearby gym, swim in the hotel pool, or... sleep in again. Initially, I struggled to find my rhythm. Before leaving Berlin, I had researched what happens when you exit a “high-stress, hyper-efficient” lifestyle. I’d read that one might feel all the unpleasantness of a decompressing rubberband—the cheap, plastic kind that snag your hair, not the pillowy silk scrunchies. This was the first time I’d paused long enough to feel that snap.

On one of those restless days, I finally opened my laptop and went into creation mode. I started scribbling the first PRD (Product Requirements Document) for this very website. It felt absurd, but I had to use the one thing I knew as an anchor in this weird and unstructured time. I started figuring out how to build this space, and more importantly, I started enjoying the act of journaling in greater detail.

When together, we explored the local food scene. On one evening, we dared to join the "young students" from the surf school for dinner. I use the term "students" loosely; these are 25-year-olds with endless, alcohol-fueled energy who can party until dawn and still hit the waves by 7 AM. I don’t envy them, and I certainly don't judge them—I just genuinely don't understand the physics of their stamina. Midway through the small talk, I realized that Niki’s 30-something surf instructor, a local Sri Lankan man, was the most interesting person at the table. Currently he owns the surf school and his dream is to turn it into a full-scale establishment: surf school with accommodation, ice baths, yoga studio—the whole nine yards. But he says he lacks "marketing skills" and, more crucially, "partnerships."

After some digging, I realized what he meant. Southern Sri Lanka’s tourism is profoundly shaped by "Ausländer"—foreigners who have driven the rise of hipster cafes, Russian hookah bars, and international-standard surf schools. While these businesses thrive on the beauty of local beaches, the locals themselves often struggle to compete without a "foreign partner" to bridge the marketing or investment gap. It made me lose a little hope for the surf instructor, who just laughingly nursed his bottle of Arrack and asked, “Where is the afterparty, guys?”. We took that as our cue to head to bed.

In our last few days in Weligama, we were joined by one of my favorite cousins, Nibi <3. Having him stay with us in Berlin right before we left had solidified an excellent "Niki + Nibi Surf Fun" plan. I wasn't part of any of the actual surfing, but I was a passive part of all the long “wave watching” conversations through some beautiful sunsets.

The three of us explored Weligama and ate some of our favorite kottus, did a day trip to Galle where we ate Jaffna crab curry, and went to Mirissa where we (you guessed it) ate what turned out to be one of our favorite meals in Sri Lanka. Dhana’s Curry Pot is an establishment worth mentioning because it served an incredible buffet of endless varieties of local dishes and felt less like a restaurant and more like a community secret. Despite everything on the plate being wonderful, we could not get over the “batu moju,” which was a sweet and spicy aubergine relish. It’s also worth mentioning that the good food came with a side of mild indoctrination through some more loudspeaker bhajans. We didn’t mind; we didn’t even understand 🙂.

After a few days of these coastal shenanigans, the three of us packed up and headed for Tissamaharama, looking for leopards, elephants and maybe some smoothies.

As always, we love you for sticking around <3