As a travel journalist, I’ve been on two “traditional” safaris. I include traditional in quotations because there are a variety of untraditional safaris that have emerged with the slow and conscious travel movement.
Amazon river cruises are advertised as “boat safaris.”
In Aberfeldy, Scotland, I embarked on a Highland Safari to try my luck at spotting the elusive red deer.
And, during a stay at Chateau La Coste in Provence, my guide referred to their 600 acres dotted with various sculptures as an art safari.
The two most conventional safaris I’ve been on, however, couldn’t be more different — my first-ever African safari in Zambia versus my more recent experience of a Sri Lankan safari in Yala National Park.
While describing the experiences to friends, I’ve found myself relating to the time-old typecast: “It’s like comparing apples and oranges.” They’re different in their own right and quite frankly, given Zambia was my first-ever safari, any experience that follows it lives in the shadow of its precedent.
Similarities
The day is organized around sunrise and sunset game drives — when the animals are most active. This meant: 5 a.m. wake-up calls and mid-morning snack boxes in the park.
This also meant: sundowners. Sri Lankan sundowners occurred back at the lodge, where the jungle meets the Indian Ocean (rather than in the bush as some African outfitters offer). Each night after a game drive, a thoughtful display of snacks and libations were waiting, including local arrack (a coconut distillate most similar to whisky), local gin and Lion lagers.
Despite a brief, chaotic moment that I’ll go onto describe below, there was an emphasis on stillness and observation.
Guides and drivers want to find the animals but they also want to show you what they love about the park — nature. And the only way to truly observe that is to shut off the engine, sit still and wait to see what appears around you, whether visually or aurally, from a paradise fly catcher fluttering by to the calls of giant squirrels alerting that a leopard is near.
Personal differences
Having a safari under my belt meant that I was expecting more at every turn — not in an overly privileged way, but rather, I knew how nature presented itself.
I remained on high alert because I knew that I could see something in a passing moment that another guest in the same Jeep may miss because they were looking in a different direction or dozing off. I didn’t want to miss a thing.
This translated to my photography: despite the stunning animals we encountered, I was less interested in snapping the best photo than I was in listening and observing the animals, or simply the silence around us.
The big difference: congestion
*Before I continue, I’d like to preface that this singular experience was not a reflection of the entire destination or with the hotel (all the lodgings are actually outside Yala National Park) but it is just a reality of overtourism. I’d also like to stress that I have only ever done an African safari in Zambia where The Bushcamp Company operates six exclusive camps in the remote south of the two-million-plus acre park; the remote location translates to no other day guests but I’m told in more populous African parks, like Kruger and the Serengeti, the experience can be similar to the swarming moment below.
The biggest difference of my Sri Lankan safari presents itself as a growing pain as the country’s once quiet tourism industry (particularly in Yala) has started to swell.
Yala National Park may once have been considered “off-the-beaten-path” but the paved roads and zoned restrictions that caused traffic pile ups were unignorable.
“People come with expectations and checklists, then are stressed because they don’t see something,” my guide, Kasun, shared, voicing his concerns about Yala National Park’s nomenclature as “the leopard capital of the world.”
There are only 65 to 70 leopards in the 250,000-acre park at any given time, so in fact, it’s challenging to spot a leopard on a game drive.
“It should be advertised as a place you come to connect with nature. Where you listen and observe and are in the moment,” said Kasun.
Kasun is one of the guides who has committed to educating tourists and encouraging them to adjust their expectations. “We try to make people appreciate everything from the dung beetle to the flora to the big animals. Every little thing has a story and when someone knows the language of that nature they can experience it better,” he said.
My Jeep was lucky as we spotted a leopard on our second game drive — despite our driver’s best efforts to take the road less traveled, a cacophony of trucks surrounded the lone leopard and felt less than natural; rather than observing a prey in his habitat, the human presence was tyrannical and felt much more like an encounter at a zoo.

“This is the part of the job that breaks my heart,” Kasun reflected after the experience. Yet, he continued, he understands the pressure on the drivers and the guides from the expectant tourist who’s traveled all this way to see a leopard. It’s a catch-22 that he’s hoping the new government will provide more support around (like decreasing daily permits or increasing permit fees) as the park’s visitors have swarmed from under 150 Jeeps a day 40 years ago to an average of 800+ Jeeps a day in 2024.
In the meantime: Kasun said that as a tourist, you can help do your part by seeking out one of the permits for the outer zones of the park (there are six zones, so anything but zone one). It takes more time to access these paths but the solitude and time with the animals is of higher quality.
More enjoyable and peaceful animal sightings included: wild peacocks in the midst of their mating dance, baby elephants, wild boars, water buffalo, sleepy crocodiles, gray langurs. Plus, there are more than 200 bird species in the park, including our sightings of painted stork, rose ring parakeet, pelicans, the little green bee eater, chestnut headed bee eater and the Eurasian hoopoe bird.
Favorite part: the lodge
Safari lodging is so unfamiliar in the best way.
I stayed at Wild Coast Tented Lodge, a Relais & Chateaux property, which was one of the first luxury lodgings on the skirts of Yala National Park when it opened in 2017. It’s less than a 10 minute drive to the entrance of the park, but its 28 freestanding, cocoon-style suites, tucked into the raw jungle and each boasting their own plunge pool, feel a world away.
The individual lodgings fan out from the domed common area, which acts as the social hub of the property with an open-air, sand-floor bar and restaurant as well as an infinity pool overlooking the Indian Ocean. It was such a joy to be able to spend so much time outside, whether on the safari or during down time at the property.
When we travel, whether in my role as a traveler journalist or as a busy professional who’s on limited PTO, so often when we check into these stunning hotels, we never get to fully enjoy the property because of meetings, activities or a hurried itinerary to see as much as a destination as possible.
Safari lodges are so rare in the way they beckon you to enjoy their amenities without guilt — and is probably why so many advocates of slow travel favor safari itineraries.
And in the tents, the details were impeccable: soaring vaulted ceilings, copper clawfoot tubs with windows that peer out to the wildlife coddling the tent, stocked coolers with local lagers and fresh juices, a vintage bureau mini bar, elephant-feet mugs, and of course, the private plunge pool with a private observation deck for wildlife viewing in between game drives.




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