1. At what point did you realize your art could evolve into a business that shapes how the world experiences Sri Lanka?
Galle Fort was always my escape.
Whenever I felt like I did not fit into the system, especially growing up with dyslexia and ADHD, I would go there. It gave me clarity. It made me feel steady. I did not always thrive in structured classrooms, but in the streets of the Fort, in homes, in workshops, in conversations with elders, I felt like I was learning in a way that made sense to me.
Those were my real classrooms.
That is where I discovered photography and storytelling. I did not set out to build a business. I was simply drawn to documenting people and the way they lived. In 2005, while assisting a British journalist on a project called 80 Lives Around the Fort, I began photographing stories from my hometown. At the same time, I started showing visitors around Galle, not as a tour guide, but as someone sharing a place that had shaped him.
Back then, I did not realize what I was building. Very few people understood it, and even now it is not easy to explain in a single sentence. But over time, I understood that what I was doing was not just storytelling. It was creating value around a way of life.
Twenty years later, that has grown into a whole ecosystem of curated experiences. It all began from something very personal, trying to make sense of the world through the community that helped me find my place in it.
2. How do you design journeys that feel deeply personal while operating at a high end, global standard?
For me, luxury has never been about excess.
Beautiful properties and seamless service matter. But the kind of luxury I believe in is more intangible. It is peace of mind. It is access. It is being invited into something real.
When we curate experiences, we are careful. Everything must feel intentional. The comfort and logistics meet global standards. That is non-negotiable. What makes it meaningful is the human connection behind it.
It might be a meal inside a generational home, or a walk through Galle Fort with someone whose family has lived there for centuries. It might be learning directly from an artisan whose craft has been passed down through generations. I believe modern travelers are looking for depth. They want to understand a place, not just see it. Because I learned through immersion rather than traditional systems, I design experiences the same way, through conversation, presence, and context.
When guests leave feeling grounded rather than simply entertained, I feel we have done our job.
3. What responsibility do luxury travel brands have toward the places and people they profit from?
If you operate in a place like Sri Lanka, responsibility is not optional.
When I first started, I did not consciously think about preservation. I was simply sharing what meant something to me. Over time, I realized that if communities do not benefit fairly, traditions slowly fade.
Luxury travel brands have a responsibility to ensure value flows back into the people and places that make the experience possible. That means fair compensation, long term relationships, and not diluting culture simply to make it more comfortable for visitors.
Growth should never come at the cost of identity.
For me, real luxury is not just about where you stay. It is about the lifestyle you experience. The calm. The rhythm. The sense of belonging. These are intangible assets, and they are fragile.
If luxury travel is done properly, it protects what makes a place special instead of exhausting it.
That is what I try to build. Something that can last.
