Why This Sri Lanka Trek Feels Bigger Than Ever

As I count down the weeks until I return to Sri Lanka to finish the trek that was interrupted 6 months ago, my emotions are a mixture of excitement, determination and, if I’m honest, quite a lot of fear. This isn’t my first adventure, but it feels different this time. The stakes feel higher. My body has been through a lot, and the ‘what ifs’ are louder than I’d like them to be.

In February 2025, when I trekked the very first stages of The Pekoe Trail, I had a bad fall on Stage 12 that resulted in an ankle injury. Three months of recovery followed with crutches, physio and the slow frustrating crawl back to walking normally. I joined a local gym to get it back working properly and that membership has been one of the best things that came out of that fall. I’m still a member and it’s become a big and satisfying part of my life. 

That fall was a stark reminder that even careful planning can’t eliminate every risk on the trail. However, I recognise I made some school-girl errors that I corrected for the following October trek. Now, as I prepare to head back later this year, the memory of that slip and the rehab is front and centre. What if it happens again? What if this time it’s worse?

Then there’s my hip. It’s been a nagging issue for 2 years but so far I’m fending off a hip op. The demands of multi-day trekking – uneven terrain, long days, carrying a pack – make me wonder how well it will hold up. I’ve been strengthening it, listening to my body, and working with professionals, but the doubt lingers: will it last the distance, or will I find myself limited, or worse – having to give up. 

Compounding all of this is a recent bee sting that turned into an infection. It was nothing dramatic at first, just an annoying sting, but the swelling, redness, following infection and need for medical attention brought home how vulnerable we can be to the natural world literally on our own doorstep. In Sri Lanka’s lush jungles and rural paths, the risk of insect and snake bites or other wildlife interactions feels more real than ever. I’ve always been respectful of nature, but now I’m researching everything from snake awareness to insect repellents with renewed intensity. 

And then there was last November. A breast cancer diagnosis came out of nowhere and completely derailed my plans to return to Sri Lanka in January just gone to complete the trek. Surgery, treatment, recovery all had to take priority. Cancelling the trip was disappointing at the time, but looking back, it became one of the most profound perspective-shifters of my life.

Cancer has a way of stripping things down to what really matters. It taught me that time is precious and not guaranteed. It reminded me that our bodies are fragile but also resilient. It made me more grateful for the ability to move, to explore, and to seek experiences that light me up. The fears I carry now; of falling again, of my hip failing, of something biting me in the wild, feel sharper because of it. But they also feel more manageable. I’ve faced something bigger than a trek, and I came through the other side.

This journey back to Sri Lanka isn’t just about finishing what I started although it is that too. It’s about proving to myself that I can carry the scars, physical and emotional, and still get out there. It’s about embracing the vulnerability that comes with adventure rather than allowing it to hold me back. 

I’m packing with extra care this time: the right support for my ankle and hip, comprehensive first aid, more knowledge of the terrain and wildlife and of course Sarath at my side as my expert guide again. I’m training smarter and not just harder. And I’m reminding myself daily that fear doesn’t mean I shouldn’t go, it simply means I’m fully alive and aware of what’s at stake.

There will be more posts in this series as my departure gets closer: gear choices, training updates, mental prep, and hopefully some practical tips for anyone else facing their own ‘what ifs’ before a big trip. For now, I’m sitting with the fears, acknowledging them, and choosing to move toward the hills anyway.

Sri Lanka, I’m coming back to you – wiser, a little more battered, and as determined as ever.