Into the Waves Instead of the First Powder - Surf Trip to Sri Lanka

The plan for the 3 weeks:

November is the month when the season in the Alps hasn’t really kicked off yet, and you’re eagerly waiting for the first or second real snowfall so there’s finally a base of snow. Unfortunately, though, we often wait in vain in November.

That’s why fitting in a snowboarding trip in November is a good idea for three reasons:

• It reduces the risk to your skis or snowboard

• It reduces the risk to you and your health

• Extending summer and surfing smooth waves boosts your mood during the often gray month of November

• (Pulling out the flip-flops again is always a good feeling anyway)

So my plan was set: a three-week, long-awaited break from my full-time office job to head to southern Sri Lanka—where the season is just starting and it’s not yet overcrowded.
Flying with Qatar Airways, where the board bag is included, plus a small backpack that’s more than enough for three weeks and sweltering temperatures around 30 degrees.

The plan isn’t really a plan at all: no scheduled sightseeing or temple-hopping tours, no safaris, but still open to anything if something cool comes up. To be honest, though, it’s mainly about surfing—it just sounds better if I don’t put it so bluntly and say: I’m just going to surf.
Wake up in the morning, have someone open a coconut for me, and spend two hours in the water—which is just under 30 degrees—replenishing my electrolytes (I’m not a coffee drinker, but I can imagine that this is also a good substitute for coffee). Plus, you get tired much more slowly when the water is warmer.

I was mainly on the south coast, where I visited really quiet coves and points, since there’s hardly any tourism there yet at this time of year. There are plenty of beach breaks and point breaks—left or right—whatever your heart desires.

In Hiriketiya—a place many people are probably familiar with—it was absolutely booming by comparison, and the little town looked like it was the new “Bali 2.0,” since everything was being built up between 2022 and 2025—my only two years of reference.

My board setup: a 7'0" midlength with 49 liters and a 6'1" fish with 34 liters—more than enough.

Having both boards made it easier for me to stay afloat on smaller days, and when the waves got a bit bigger at some spots, I could use the Fish—which, after all, isn’t a high-performance board either.

I’d say the wave energy here is weaker than on the Atlantic. At least I didn’t have any violent wipeouts or hold-downs like the ones I’m used to from northern Spain, Portugal, or France—though with my skill level, those last a maximum of 5–10? seconds anyway and just feel like 20 seconds.

I found the wave quality at some spots to be outstanding. There’s one session I’ll never forget: There were just the four of us—a local, a Finnish couple, and me. He naturally paddled out to the best waves—shouting and whistling to direct us toward other, very good waves we should paddle for, so we were surfing waves like an assembly line, literally. The vibe out on the water was such that we cheered each other on after every wave. That was probably the most intense session of my life, because in addition to the excellent, clean, long waves, the atmosphere was just perfect.

When the sun went down in the evening, we’d grab our boards and go skateboarding in Ahangama—if we still had a little energy left—and then maybe have a beer or two afterward. Depending on the forecast for the next day, of course.

Of course, we had to check out the tourist spots. It’s the same here as everywhere else in the world, and it’s just fun to watch tourists trying to take the perfect selfie of themselves and the landmark (Nine Arch Bridge), sometimes even getting into little “battles” over the best spot. And let’s be honest, the Viaduct Bridge really is cool to look at, especially when those old, picturesque trains roll by. It’s a strange feeling to visit a place that was planned by the British during the colonial era and is now being marveled at once again.

What comes down from the mountains eventually ends up in the sea

The second part of my trip was less pleasant.

At the end of November, Cyclone Ditwah struck the island. It was one of the worst natural disasters in Sri Lanka’s history. Millions were affected, many people died, entire villages were submerged, and there were countless landslides that led to food shortages and water supply problems because roads were destroyed.

I was in a privileged position and was able to simply reschedule my trip accordingly and stay on the south coast, since the epicenter was in the highlands and on the east coast. The local people, however, were not able to do so, and approximately 230,000 people had to be evacuated and relocated, as about 20% of Sri Lanka’s land area was affected.

The south was also affected, albeit to a much lesser extent, and efforts were made to help the people there wherever possible and to clear away the debris and mud from the previous days.

So, a 5-day break from surfing, lots of time on the yoga mat, and helping clean up flood and wind damage. My body was able to recover from all that constant paddling. I also used the time to explore the inland areas along the south coast—places I would never have seen otherwise, since they consisted simply of long roads winding through tropical forests and past lakes dotted with scattered houses.

About ten minutes inland from the coast, and you’re in a whole other world: rice fields as far as the eye can see, where you can spot exciting animals—even without a safari—that you wouldn’t normally come across.

Cool side fact: You can also explore “lost places” in Sri Lanka. Some areas haven’t been rebuilt since the massive 2004 tsunami, so if you’re up for a little adventure, you can climb through quiet, overgrown ruins.

Sri Lanka has quite a few stray dogs (note: traveling is much more relaxing if you’re up to date on your rabies shots )—apparently, shoes left by the front door make for a nice late-night snack for the dogs. I’ve learned my lesson: bring your shoes inside overnight, or you’ll have to go buy new flip-flops the next day.

Aside from the heavy rainfall caused by Cyclone Ditwah in 2025, there are frequent brief showers in the tropical regions—according to the locals, even during the dry seasons now. The locals tend to take these light showers in stride: they stand under the rain for 5 minutes, wait for it to pass, and then carry on with their daily lives just as before. Some people could use that same sense of calm when ski touring, too.

Vitamins and Trade
The fruit that grows when you’re close to the equator really doesn’t have much in common with the tropical fruits in our supermarkets. Mango, papaya, avocado, banana, dragon fruit, lime, and passion fruit. My insider tip: cut a ripe papaya in half, squeeze a lime over it, and then eat it with a spoon. It’s filling and super delicious! Most people I showed this to on the trip loved it!

Another tip—though it seems less of a secret—is an avocado smoothie with a banana or mango. Unsaturated fats and quick calories packed with vitamins that keep you full for a long time—both get a 10/10 recommendation.

Talk to people outside the tourist areas and away from the fruit stands—they’re incredibly friendly and grateful that you’re there when you head out to the more rural areas.

Leave your money with the locals—you’ll quickly earn 10 to 20 times that amount in a month (the average, not median, monthly income is under €300, though in rural regions in the south it can be under €100)!
Haggle only minimally, if at all. Those few euros can make a significant difference for the local people.
After we finished shopping, one woman gratefully told us that, thanks to us, she could now—for the first time in months—buy cookies for her son in town, which is truly shocking when you consider that we can “easily” enter their country to have a good time on their soil.
(Maybe I’m just being overly emotional about this topic and mentioning it explicitly because I was traveling with someone who, despite earning over 4,000 € net, still haggled so unpleasantly and harshly with locals over 100 Sri Lankan rupees (about 26 cents) with locals)

So, aside from surfing, there’s actually an incredible amount to experience, and what started as three weeks of “stubborn surfing” turned into a trip full of experiences.

Some highlights of the trip:

5 a.m., still dark, but the wildest animal sounds coming from the bushes—beyond anything you can imagine. I hopped on the scooter for just three minutes, shattering the silence as I started the engine. Drink the coconut you brought along after waxing your board—or, if possible, buy one there—and then paddle into the sunrise, which casts the most striking contrasts onto the shore when you look back.

Another highlight was the smaller-wave days, when we sometimes shared the waves with reef turtles, who would pop their heads out of the smooth ocean every now and then to check if we were all still there and to share the stoke with each other. The turtles have likely been in the waves for decades, so we’re surfing their spots—that’s something to keep in mind and enjoy with a smile.

The lineup is also much more pleasant on days like these, since guys with egos too big to handle don’t dare get in the water. It’s a bit like freeriding when the conditions aren’t exactly ideal ;)

Overall, I had plenty of time to surf—no meetings, no team messages, no deadlines—and I hardly ever checked my phone. It was easy to forget that frost had already set in at night in the Alps and the mountains were dusted with snow.

For those on the fence: Sri Lanka offers huge potential for both beginners and advanced surfers, with great waves and a positive vibe among locals and tourists alike. I made significant progress over the three weeks, and if you’re really up for it (and lucky with the forecast), you can learn to surf really well in Sri Lanka with shallow waves and laid-back spots—and just take a quick break from it all.

Freeriding and surfing?

To bring it back to the point: The trip really helped me work on my balance. On powder days, I’m now more relaxed and take things as they come—because, well, some days the waves are just… not great… , and you accept that, even if you get a little upset at first that you didn’t catch a really good wave, took a fall, or slipped on your first turn.

So I’d definitely recommend everyone try surfing for a change—to feel the power of nature right in your face and be humbled by it.