The Extraordinary Mannar

A novice’s log of journey to beautiful #Mannar #birdsofsrilanka

After a five-hour drive from Colombo, I arrived in Mannar on a crisp and beautiful December morning. Although the journey through Wilpattu National Park had been underwhelming, the landscape that unfolded beyond it felt like stepping into another world, one markedly different from the Sri Lanka most travellers know. As I drove through the dense, untamed strip of Kalaru jungle skirting the park’s edge, the scenery began to shift, offering a tantalising preview of what lay ahead. It was a transition not just in geography, but in atmosphere—a gateway to the unique, wind-swept beauty of Mannar. (For alternative routes and details on how to access Mannar, see my post: “Mannar again and the road to Jaffna”)

The muddy, rutted dirt track through Wilpattu opens daily at 6 AM and closes promptly at 6 PM. Once past the initial stretch, the road gradually gives way to a distinctive dry zone landscape—harsh yet captivating in its own right. Along the way, glimpses of the famed Mannar Basin emerge through the scrub, occasionally punctuated by the crumbling remains of colonial forts and timeworn buildings that whisper of a bygone era. As you near the final stretch, the road winds through the Vankalai Bird Sanctuary—a vivid reminder of why you've journeyed this far. The sight of flocks in flight and the shimmering wetlands rekindles your sense of wonder and leaves you hungry for more.

Declared a RAMSAR site in 2010, #Vankalai is a paradise for water birds. (Link: RAMSAR official description of Vankalai sanctuary)

One of the most iconic spectacles in Mannar is the arrival of the flamingos. Each year, beginning around December, thousands of majestic Greater Flamingos descend upon the region, transforming the salt flats into a living canvas of pink and white. These elegant visitors, with their slender necks and vivid plumage, perform a mesmerising, synchronised march across the shimmering wetlands—a display of grace and rhythm that feels almost choreographed by nature itself. Catching sight of them in the golden morning light is an experience that lingers long after you’ve left.

During this particular season (late 2017), however, the rains failed to arrive as expected, leaving much of the wetland parched and dry. As a result, the annual migration of waterbirds has been noticeably subdued. While I did encounter a variety of duck species, local sources confirmed that numbers have been significantly lower than usual. Even so, this hasn’t diminished the breathtaking beauty of Mannar or its rich avian diversity.

Scattered across the region are numerous lakes and lagoons, many of which were reduced to cracked beds and shallow pools. Yet, along the remaining waterfronts, large flocks of terns and ducks could still be observed, undeterred by the conditions. The sun-bleached grasslands of the dried-up lakes had become an unexpected refuge for an array of plovers, sandpipers, and other waders. To my surprise, I even stumbled upon a small flock of Grey Francolins foraging near one of the lake edges—a rewarding encounter.

(Link: Bar-headed goose who flew to Mannar)

The salt flats also attract flocks of water birds, including the famous Flamingos. Although there was a flock of them in the lagoon, they were too far away in the distance for me to even clearly see them this time.

Sunset in Mannar is a truly enchanting experience, as the sun dips below the horizon, casting golden reflections across the still lagoons. At this time of year, the nights are cool, clear, and wonderfully tranquil—ideal for stargazing. With minimal light pollution, the night sky reveals a dazzling display of stars in all their brilliance, stretching from one horizon to the other.

When the midday sun becomes too harsh for birding or outdoor exploration, Mannar still offers plenty to keep you engaged. The region is dotted with fascinating historical buildings and distinctive architecture that reflect its layered past. Among its hidden gems is the serene ‘Kiri’ Beach—a beautiful stretch of tranquil, waveless shoreline that invites quiet reflection. However, despite its calm appearance, undercurrents make swimming unadvisable, so it’s best enjoyed from the shore.

The road to Talaimannar Beach is a journey in itself, offering a striking change in scenery. Stretches of the route are lined with hundreds of towering palmyrah palms, creating an almost surreal landscape that feels more like a distant, exotic land than the rest of Sri Lanka. It’s a beautiful and unexpected transition that adds to the sense of discovery on the way to the coast.

Although somewhat littered by the activities of local fishermen, Talaimannar Beach still held its charm. When I ventured a little too close for comfort, a large flock of terns suddenly took to the air, filling the skyline in a flurry of wings and sharp calls—a chaotic yet beautiful display of wild energy.

When in Mannar, you will surely come across the famous Donkeys and Ponies. They add character to a unique landscape.

After two days in this birdwatcher’s paradise, I had captured photographs of more than 25 species, many of which I had never photographed before. As the sun dipped below the horizon on my second evening, I began the journey back to Colombo, already planning my return. Mannar had revealed just a fraction of its wonders, and I knew there was still so much more waiting to be discovered.

It is a place that makes you feel as if you have gone to another country.