In a letter to the Montreal Star, Karl writes:
“Early in the morning, I started for Kandy, a fashionable resort 86 miles inland, and proceeded along a smooth road (with fine coffee, banana and tea plantations along the way) and with an occasional cinnamon garden, and other plants and trees, which spread delightful perfumes. I was perfectly satisfied with Ceylon as a country for cycling tours.”
Kandy takes its name from the Sinhala word Kanda, meaning “mountain,” an apt reflection of its hilly, inland location in central Sri Lanka. The Kingdom of Kandy, founded in the late 15th century, was the last Sinhalese kingdom to fall, resisting Portuguese and Dutch forces before finally succumbing to British colonial rule in 1818. While other kingdoms fell by the early 1600s, Kandy held out for two more centuries.
British rule brought about sweeping changes, including the establishment of a plantation economy, the development of new infrastructure, and a gradual erosion of traditional social and economic systems. Yet, despite the shifts, Kandy remained a sacred capital, famed for its cultural and religious heritage.
Today, Kandy’s highlights include the remains of the old royal capital, the tranquil Kandy Lake, an 18th-century artificial lake where the British once strolled, and the Temple of the Sacred Tooth Relic.
I stayed at the Radh Hotel, a small boutique hotel just a short walk from the lake, the Temple, and the former Royal Palace. My room overlooked a busy street full of life: tuk tuks buzzing past, shopkeepers arranging displays of jewelry and incense, a nearby Salvation Army church, and coffee shops. My balcony was an excellent perch to witness daily life in motion.
But my primary reason for staying here was the proximity to the Temple of the Sacred Tooth Relic.
According to tradition, this temple houses one of Buddha’s teeth, his upper left canine, enshrined in a golden stupa. It is Sri Lanka’s most sacred Buddhist site, attracting pilgrims from across the country and around the world. Three daily poojas (ceremonies) take place at dawn, noon, and evening, featuring rhythmic drumming, trumpet music, and long lines of worshippers bearing floral offerings.
Wearing attire that covered my shoulders and knees, I purchased my ticket (along with an extra for leaving my shoes—bare feet or socks only!) and began my morning walk to the temple. Along the way, vendors sold lotus, jasmine, and frangipani blossoms, their fragrances mingling in the warm air.
I entered the temple complex just after 8 a.m. and quickly hired a guide to help me understand the layout and significance of the 9:30 a.m. pooja. We passed through a vibrantly painted entrance corridor, where already, queues were forming for the upper floor. My guide led me through the intricately carved three-storey shrine, where doors are inlaid with ivory, and murals painted in deep reds, golds, and blacks.
Outside the shrine, we visited smaller pavilions and spaces filled with incense and offerings, followed by the Raja Tusker Museum. Raja was the famed elephant who carried the sacred tooth relic casket during the annual festival for over 50 years. The museum houses his taxidermied body; yes, dear reader, Raja was stuffed and remains in a plexiglass case, along with images and ceremonial items tied to his long service.
As the time for the ceremony approached, my guide departed. I returned to observe the pooja, standing on a balcony overlooking the gathered pilgrims. The crowd moved slowly up the stairs, flower offerings in hand. Drums beat a steady rhythm, a trumpet played, and the place was filled shoulder to shoulder. I chose to observe from the balcony, grateful to witness the ceremony without interrupting the sacred procession.
Feeling slightly claustrophobic from the crowd, I exited to find a group of schoolboys in the old Audience Hall, once a royal court, now a quiet, carved pavilion. The boys, equally keen to stretch their legs, were laughing and playing among the wooden columns. I managed to capture some of my favourite photos!
I left the complex, discarded my socks, which were now suitably worse for wear, and reclaimed my shoes.
Walking adjacent to the Temple, I reached the former Royal Palace, now the National Museum of Kandy. Its galleries showcase Buddhist art, regional histories, and beautiful relics from across the island’s many Buddhist kingdoms.
From there, I headed towards Kandy Lake. Built in 1807, the lake is serene, with a white structure along its edge that once served as the royal bathhouse. I joined the loop walk around the lake, passing families, monks, street vendors, and a small cluster of nature photographers who had gathered. Curious, I followed their lenses and spotted the reason for the excitement: a monitor lizard, nearly five feet long, camouflaged among the roots and reeds. A reminder to keep one's toes out of the water and stick to the path.
Back in town, I walked past the Queen’s Hotel, once the Governor’s mansion and now a landmark colonial-era hotel. I peeked into local jewelry shops, browsed through a narrow “law office” with aging men at typewriters, and couldn’t resist purchasing hand-painted wooden doorstops for all my family, featuring traditionally dressed Sri Lankans (yes, I didn’t think about the weight of wood in my suitcase at the time, but they were worth it).
I ended the afternoon perched on the steps of a corner restaurant, sipping a cold drink and watching the tuk-tuks go by. My favourite part of travel has always been this: simply sitting and being immersed in my surroundings.
If you've enjoyed following Karl's journey, please consider sharing this post with others. I've been researching and telling his story since 2016 — it's a labour of love, and every share helps keep this piece of Canadian history alive.
Then get caught up on the rest of our journey, click here for more Karl Chronicles
The Karl Journey is registered as an official expedition with the Royal Geographical Society