In those good old days Kithulgala was considered the spot where the climb to Nuwara Eliya began, where the air became cool and the surroundings lush green. That fresh air we remember so well wasn’t felt in the same way in 2025 though the greenery was visible every now and then through the chaotically built-up township. Gone was the lovely old ‘kada-mandiya’ on either side of the narrow road, the identical line of shops that may have had just one tiled roof extending from one end to the other.

We were keen to visit the little-known ‘manna kathi ella’, a beautiful gem of a waterfall hidden in the leech-infested jungle off the hilly Malwatta road. I had visited the foothills 40 years ago and was prepared to find the waterfall either dammed for a hydro-plant or diverted for irrigation.

We parked our vehicle where the byroad leads to the falls and commenced the long trek, little realising that we could have negotiated half the distance by vehicle for the road had  been recently done up. There were new houses along the way,  some two-storeyed, with cars parked at their porches. Above all, the area was blessed with electricity and pipe-borne water.

Earlier, the last stretch was a treacherous descent through the boulders, under a thick canopy. There are concrete steps now and mind you, an iron railing to navigate the steepest parts. A lovely open ambalama – built on traditional lines – that could serve as a shade to a small group of visitors has  been constructed at the foothill. From there the waterfall was visible cascading down into the deep rock-pool just as we remembered it 40 years ago!

In the shade of the tall hovering trees over the gorge, only the sound of the gushing waterfall disturbed the tranquillity. Memories of how we enjoyed a refreshing bath in cool crystal-clear rock pool came flooding back.

It will serve the site well if the authorities employ someone from the nearby village to maintain the concrete steps by removing the fallen debris from trees and maintain the railing and the picnic structure even at a small fee. The same person could be given a ticket book to collect the entry fee. Just simple things that would make a difference.

The following morning, we crossed the Kelani River on a flat-bottomed boat with a kind boatman and entered the rain forest as we did then. This time we were armed with leech-socks over which we wore our trekking shoes. Luckily, it was a clear morning and as we crossed the small hamlet on the opposite bank that had modern houses giving way to the old, we remembered a concrete path to the entry gate where there was a checkpoint supported by an office with a small museum within. Once again we noted the efforts to establish some order. Earlier we had to find our way into the forest, at times with a local guide, on a rugged overgrown footpath.

The entry fee is nominal  for locals while foreigners are charged in dollars. That sorted, we stepped onto the natural footpath of the rain forest which is now identified as ‘Makandawa Forest Reserve’. The silence was broken by the drone of the cicadas which confirmed one of the main characteristics of a true virgin forest. Detailed signboards have been erected to show the way all along. A pair of Ceylon trogons greeted us in the thicket with an alarm call followed by a family of endemic Rufus babblers noisily feeding on the side.

The footpaths were well maintained, and I felt the forest was much denser now than it was then. The old circular route inclined downwards on to the famous brook that flows though the rocky banks creating limpid rock pools every ten yards where swam shoals of colourful barbs and comb tails just as in decades back.

The trail then runs a considerable distance over the pristine rock-bed – hugging the stream overhung by foliage – until an exit leads from it back into the forest to join the same trail thus completing a wide circle. Caution must be exerted treading on the rock especially in the rainy season.

Though much smaller, Makandawa forest reserve is said to possess over 70% flora and fauna of the much larger Sinharaja rainforest. There have been no sightings of leopard since the 1960s but they still exist in untouched pockets in the region, we were told. Fishing cat and types of deer had been sighted.

We drove six kilometres off Kithulgala on a very poor estate road to visit the pre-historic Beli Lena cave. As the road climbed, the surroundings were strikingly beautiful as rubber gave way to tea. From a tiny car park one has to climb a further 100 metres or so vertically to reach the cave.

British hunters discovered the cave way back, but serious excavations were carried out much later only in the 1950s by that renowned palaeontologist, Paul Deraniyagala. It was he who established the presence of the famous Balangoda Man in the cave 30,000 years ago. The assiduous research made headlines at the time.

A sizeable area of the virgin forest is still left in the form of a reservation for a visitor to visualize Balangoda Man’s heyday. A small museum once exhibiting delicate and important findings is sadly dilapidated. The artefacts on display may have been transferred to the National Museum. Authorities would do well to repair the road and make it accessible as it was 40 years ago since the site can be a major attraction to both local and foreign tourists as well as for schoolchildren and university students.

While Kitulgala is now a white water rafting magnet for tourists, the forest trails with better infrastructure can easily be coupled with rafting, meriting a longer stay.

Going where only wilderness reigns

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