Galle (Sri Lanka)
03 - 04 January 2026
Have you ever caught yourself doing that thing where you're not quite sure how to pronounce a name or place, so when you say it to a local, you add a slight accent? As if that little flourish somehow lends the pronunciation the credibility it needs? Case in point, Galle, Sri Lanka.
For many years, in the irregular whispers of conversations I
encountered regarding travel to Sri Lanka, the “Pearl of the Indian Ocean,”
the city of Galle inevitably came up—and, by extension, the correct way to
pronounce its name. To me, this always carried the same sense of mystery and
exaggerated lore as the infamous hook-turns of Melbourne. I vividly remember,
in my early teenage years, a friend returning from a trip to Victoria’s
capital, describing this mythical manoeuvre: a turn so peculiar that your
vehicle supposedly had to pause, perpendicular to oncoming traffic, before
completing the corrective turn, recommencing on its happy path.
Now that I reside in Melbourne, I know that those hook-turns
have some merit in their construct and only appear in a handful of locations in
the CBD. In my mind, however, those turns were Melbourne traffic convention, so
much so that the first time I drove the suburban streets of Melbourne, I nearly
hook-turned myself into ‘Scheisterdom’. There’s a lesson somewhere in there,
I’m sure of that.
Exiting customs and entering the full hall of Colombo
International Airport, with its taxi services, hotel booths, mobile phone
providers, and currency exchangers, I had it in my mind to check first-time
rates for a vehicle transfer to Galle. I call it a ‘first-time’ rate because
the initial quote exists only as a mental price anchor by which all subsequent
quotes are evaluated. Accepting a ‘first-time’ rate is an absolute outlier
scenario, where you are either driven by the emotions of desperation and/or frustration,
or your initial research was so far off the mark that the quote given was just
too good an offer to refuse—at least within your own little world of
transactional successes.
Mind you, this entry has nothing to do with transactional
wins, but everything to do with the pronunciation of Galle. In the first
instance that we made it known that we wanted to go to ‘G-awl’—our
pronunciation—we were immediately corrected and advised it was to be pronounced
‘G-allay.’
Huh, what’s that now? What are you saying exactly—‘galette,’
as in ‘gal-ET’? We’re not going to a French patisserie; we want to travel down
the coastline.
Response: “Yes sir, ‘gal-ET.’”
Now, I didn’t want to tell this local how to suck eggs, but
I have never, ever heard Galle pronounced that way. Not even close. And here’s
the trap: in those random instances where you encounter someone giving what you
believe to be credible information, who are you to dispute its veracity? I
mean, it’s a local offering local advice. I have to assume it’s accurate.
And so it was, ‘gal-ET,’ for at least several attempts
whilst in Colombo and prior to making our way down by train. But do you know
what? Not another person that we mentioned this to pronounced it that way. We
had different versions of ‘G-ul,’ ‘G-al,’ and even the Aussie version of
‘G-awl,’ but nothing even close to ‘gal-ET.’ My friends, I honestly believe
that we were well and truly ‘Scheistered’ in our first few minutes in Sri
Lanka.
We stayed at a wonderful place in Galle, the Villa White
Queen Resort & Spa, only a few minutes’ tuk-tuk ride from Galle Central
Station. An oasis of calm and tranquillity, within a city that for the most
part was also very gentle in nature. We had a lovely large loft-style room that
overlooked the gardens of the resort, which fronted onto a colonial-style
terrace—perfect for afternoon and evening drinks.
Galle is, of course, famous for the fort that was originally
established by the Portuguese in the late 16th century, and then extensively
fortified by the Dutch in the 17th century, serving as a key trading post for
spices and acting as a strategic stronghold on the southern coast of Sri Lanka.
To me, it was always the intriguing backdrop to any tests played between
Australia and Sri Lanka at the Galle International Stadium. Whether watching
some part of a day’s play or catching the highlights, the weathered walls of
the fort always stood proud and tall—providing a great vantage point to watch
the game, if you chose not to purchase a ticket.
For the one afternoon that we had available, we discovered
that the town within the fort is a patchwork of spice-scented cafés, hidden
courtyards, and sun-bleached walls, where history and modern life collide in
vivid colour. Vehicles, cyclists, and pedestrians thread lines through its
narrow lanes past boutique shops and faded murals, with the faint echo of old
trade and laughter lingering at every corner. Of course, there are places
similar to this around the world—Cartagena in Colombia, Split in Croatia, and
others—each with their own story, vibe, and feel. Galle comfortably sits within
that group: intriguing and captivating.
We spent some time walking the fortress walls, enjoying the
sea breeze and taking in the moment. There are times like this during travel
when you allow yourself to slow down and be in the moment. This was one of
those times.
Later in the afternoon, we managed to find ourselves a
pick-up game of cricket on the walls of the fort, overlooking the Galle
International Stadium. To me, this ended up being a real highlight—a memory
I’ll carry with me for a long time. Playing cricket with some locals, with the
sun setting for the afternoon and its golden rays draping across the fort
walls, turning the centuries-old stone a rich amber colour, I felt both blessed
and fortunate to watch my son fall more and more in love with a game I grew up
loving. His excitement and enthusiasm were infectious, making that hour or so
on the walls ever more memorable.
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That evening, we walked back into the small town and had
dinner at a café. However you wish to call this place—G-awl, G-ull, G-all, or
even ‘gal-ET’—it has an interesting history and very kind, generous people,
making it a real gem. I now know that perhaps our one day in Galle was shorter
than we should have dedicated, but all that means is that we’ll be placing it
on our ‘must return’ list.
