While Sri Lanka – the formerly turbulent, irrepressibly vibrant island off India’s southeast coast – is shaped like a teardrop, I tend to think of it more as a beating heart. Sometimes it’s languid, like when you laze, heat-dazed on a birdsong-filled afternoon, sipping from a coconut by the pool. Other times it’s a quickened pulse; say, when your softly spoken driver is dodging the oncoming tuk-tuks that hurtle towards you like mad beetles, before pulling up neatly at a roadside stall offering delicious snacks: creamy buffalo curd the colour of a cloud, drizzled in palm syrup and eaten from a terracotta pot, maybe a plump cob of boiled corn, or the sweetest banana you’ve ever tasted. After a day or two here, you start to see things through the prism of flavours, foods, spices. Turmericcoloured walls continuing their slow, centuries-old crumble. Pineapple sunshine. Jungles and palm trees and paddy fields in shades of green, from emerald curry leaf to bright lime. And white, coconut-white everywhere – from the solid old walls of boutique hotels to the impeccably starched uniforms worn by shyly waving schoolchildren.

With a new influx of unique luxury and boutique hotels, surf breaks sought out by in-the-know beach bums, and unique cuisine, Sri Lanka is fast gaining momentum as a destination for those looking to be surprised and delighted by travel again. It is not perfect, but it is perfectly captivating. After a recent road trip, I’m hooked.

Driving towards the central hill country, the sticky heat is persistent: our driver, Charlie, stops outside Kandy and comes back bearing fresh king coconuts, the shells of which we’ve seen piled roadside like temples to the gods of tropical hydration. The bone-rattling drive up the monkey-riddled mountains is rewarded upon arrival at Ashburnham Estate, a delightful 1930s boutique guesthouse on a working tea plantation, filled with books on butterflies and [Sri Lankan-born author] Michael Ondaatje classics, with breeze-strewn bedrooms boasting magnificent views. Ashburnham’s kitchen will have your tastebuds travelling from colonial England (think raisin sponge served with the estate’s own tea, and pre-dinner G&Ts on the verandah) to Sri Lankan crab curry made using chef Reggie’s wife’s secret spice mix.

As the sun sets, it’s as though waves of gold and pink dust are spilling over the mountains; rippled clouds obscure where the land ends and the sky begins. Mornings bloom fresh and green – don’t miss the chance to marvel at the graceful women who deftly pick the estate’s tea leaves as the rolling vistas dance behind them in the ever-changing light.

If the hill country is like stepping back in time, the remote eastern Gal Oya National Park feels positively prehistoric. It’s home to Gal Oya Lodge, a thatched, thoroughly charming eco-retreat from the modern world. Lying in the shadow of Monkey Mountain, the lodge – complete with large bungalows, aquamarine pool, open-walled dining and pre-safari-coffee/ post-safari-beer lounge – is owned (and staffed) by young, passionate naturelovers keen to make your experience an eye-opening one. They’re also a lot of fun. Early morning boat safaris – where you’re likely to be the only tourists gawping at elephants bathing in the vast lake – include a picnic breakfast, with crunchy, coconutty granola, fresh fruit and BLTs presented on mats dotted with frangipanis. Munching quietly, in awe of the vastness around you, is a treasured experience to tuck away for future moments of city-borne stress. Dinners include a fantastic curry and rice option; other items might include steamed lemongrass river fish with chilli garlic sauce, or beetroot ravioli topped with crispy leeks.

An outdoor cooking class here sees the house chef create cuisine in the style of the local indigenous Vedda tribes. We watch as he sits over a special tool, freshly hacked coconut in hand, to expertly shave off creamy white shards before creating a velvety curry of fish and manioc (a starchy root vegetable), banana flower mallum (‘mix’), and a superfood-like salad of small bitter gourd with crunchy seeds and pumpkin leaves, all of which we enjoy with ice-cold Lion beer.

Winding southwest along the coastline will take you past the stuff of tropical surf dreams. Try Hiriketiya Beach, a hidden horseshoe of gently sloping sand with great surf and chilled beachfront spots (check out Beach House) to sip beer and enjoy pizza. We find Tri nestled into the cinnamonscented vegetation overlooking the stunning expanse of Koggala Lake, just outside of Galle. With a layout modelled on the Golden Ratio (a mathematical formula considered to deliver an aesthetically pleasing design) and innovative eco-credentials, this stunningly unique luxury hotel offers inventive, healthy cuisine, spa treatments and yoga alongside a relaxed approach to wellness (spiced beetroot martini, anyone?). Rooms are modern, airy and enormous, and the infinity pool is the stuff of Instagram dreams. General manager Oli sums it all up: “We don’t see why you cannot indulge and be healthy.”

Expect the likes of turmeric chappati with fennel butter, Kokoda wahoo ceviche tempered with coconut milk, plump lake prawns on silken cauliflower, and white tea pannacotta with coconut crumb and jaggery ice cream. Breakfast can be taken on the jetty; we feast on fruit, curd ice cream, hoppers and eggs benedict with smoked mahi mahi. The serenity is intoxicating.

Most international visitors land here (Sri Lankan Airlines now operates direct flights between Melbourne and Colombo; srilankan.com), and while the bustling city may not have the historic charm or wild beauty found elsewhere on the island, it does offer some real gems. Check in to The Wallawwa, a tropical oasis not far from the airport where the ceilings are tall, quiet fans whir and wicker lounges beckon you to the jungle-fringed pool.

The open-walled restaurant offers a wonderful introduction to Sri Lankan cuisine’s reverence for fruit, vegetables and spices, and their Ayurvedic properties (the gardens produce pineapple, papaya, dragonfruit, zucchini, capsicum and more); its reliance on fresh coconut and aromatic curry leaves; and some signature Sri Lankan dishes. We have hoppers for breakfast, the ubiquitous rice flour ‘pancake’ swirled in a special pan to create a crispy-rimmed bowl for delicious fillings. Ours come with an egg in the middle, plus chicken curry and sweet, spice-spiked seeni sambol (onion relish). A bowl of buffalo curd – Greek yoghurt’s richer, creamier cousin – is served with syrup and decadent, crumbling shards of coconut jaggery (cane sugar).

Teardrop Hotels (the group behind The Wallawwa and other boutique boltholes) also recently launched Monsoon restaurant in the city’s buzzing Park Street Mews. The warehouse-style space was in Teardrop MD Henry Fitch’s sights for years before he finally snared it and created what he felt was missing from Colombo’s social scene: a beautifully designed (the bespoke, botanical-meets-Brooklyn furnishings were made on the island) Southeast Asian offering with an emphasis on value, variety and quality. “The idea is that it’s basically homecooked favourites – it’s elevated street food,” explains Fitch. Most of the beautifully balanced dishes are made for sharing, and highlights include tuna ceviche with coconut oil, lime, pomelo, toasted cashews and cassava chips; zingy Thai-style steamed fish with lime, garlic, coriander and chillies; and smoky Singapore chilli prawns.

To really soak up the colonial grandeur of Galle’s famous walled fort (a UNESCO World Heritage site), check in to the sublime Amangalla. This grand old dame is pure elegance, from the antique dark wood and rattan furnishings to the crockery bearing the initials of its previous incarnation (the New Oriental Hotel) and the high-ceilinged, patterntiled verandah. Ramble the charming streets, picking up vintage Sri Lankan travel posters at Stick No Bills, lively linens at Barefoot Ceylon, and bedroom textiles at Tallentire House, before hitting Church Street Social at Fort Bazaar Hotel for lunch. Return to Amangalla’s green dream of a pool, indulge in the hushed serenity of the spa, and order sunset G&Ts to drink overlooking the terracotta rooftops.

Dinner brings a sublime al dente pasta, with dabs of butter and flickers of chilli playing off sweet chunks of local lagoon lobster. Those keen to learn the chef’s secrets can take a tuk-tuk tour of local markets before journeying to a stunning island site amongst verdant paddy fields. The private cooking class is impeccably conceived, with coloursaturated spices the basis of a fabulous feast including eggplant moju (an indulgent pickle dish with cashews); a beetroot ‘dry curry’; and pineapple curry, devilled prawns and fresh, zingy goto kola sambal.

Finally, don’t miss local institution Dick’s Bar, where the walls are lined with photos of everyone from local elephant polo champions to scientist and writer Richard Dawkins. From the lovely, lumpy striped couches, enjoy a Sun House Sour – white arrack with lime and sugar; it’s the perfect toast to this delicious island.