Embilipitiya · Sri Lanka
Ajith — Aji — left Sri Lanka when he was young. Six years working abroad, enough money saved to come home and do something with it.
In 2006 he bought fifteen acres in Embilipitiya. The land was empty. There was no orchard, no lake view, no plan except to grow something.
He started with papaya. Then pomegranate. He learned as he went — what the land wanted, which crops took, which ones didn't. He kept what worked and planted more of it.
By 2018 the farm was formally ranked the top commercial fruit farm in the country. Fifteen acres, fully productive. Mango, coconut, banana, rambutan, star fruit, dragon fruit.
This was the goal, and it was done. Then 2020 arrived.
The pandemic hit. Then in 2021 the Sri Lankan government banned chemical fertilizers overnight — a decision later reversed, but not before it had already done the damage. Crops failed across the country. Aji's farm was no exception.
For a man who had spent fifteen years building something, it was a difficult few years. The commercial side of the farm took a serious hit. Something had to change.
He had been to Hikkaduwa. He had seen how those beach guesthouses worked — small, personal, run by the family, full of guests from all over the world. He liked the atmosphere. He wanted that, but in the country. In the orchard. By the lake.
"When guests come, they are happy. So I am also happy."— Ajith
Four months ago, Aji opened the first cottages. Four rooms, each one set back in the trees at the edge of the lake. His wife cooks breakfast. His daughter helps. He handles everything else — the kayaks, the safari jeep bookings, the airport pickup if you need it.
He wants to keep it small. Four rooms is enough. The farm is still there — the fruit trees, the lake, the land he has tended for twenty years. The guests just get to live inside it for a few days.
Most people come for one night. Most stay longer.
No platform, no fees. Message Aji on WhatsApp — he replies fast.
+94 70 506 5061