Would you carry buckets of water in 30 degree heat for a 1 in 1000 chance?

Life can’t be all play and no work. So, after nearly nine weeks on the road swanning around doing exactly what I fancied every single day, it was time to give something back. I was met at Colombo airport by the Asha House team and whisked off to Unawatuna for two weeks volunteering on a turtle conservation project.

The two-hour journey introduced me — and a minibus full of German and Dutch 18- to 23-year-olds — to the unique thrill that is Sri Lankan driving.

There were around 200 volunteers at Asha House, working across a range of projects: medics, physios, pre-school educators, conservation teams, turtle care and the dog rescue project. I knew immediately I could not volunteer with the dogs. With 2,500 of them at the centre, I wouldn’t have brought one home — I’d have needed to charter a plane. My decision was vindicated when I spoke to two young women on the project who had already identified “their” dogs and were now just working on persuading their mothers back home. A word of warning: do not let your children volunteer at a dog rescue centre.

The turtle conservation project, however, was truly out of this world. Our days were spent cleaning pens, gently scrubbing turtles with toothbrushes to remove algae, preparing their food, feeding them, releasing baby turtles and conducting night patrols to witness females coming ashore to lay their eggs.

Watching a turtle lay her eggs is extraordinary — and slightly baffling. She hauls herself up the beach, digs a massive hole, lays over 100 eggs… and then promptly heads back to sea, leaving them to fend for themselves. It does seem a rather “hands-off” parenting strategy. Once she had gone, we carefully collected the eggs to place them in the hatchery, increasing their chances of survival. Only 1 in 1,000 baby turtles make it to adulthood — an astonishing statistic.

It was hard work. Seawater had to be lugged up the beach in buckets to refill the tanks after cleaning. Carrying heavy buckets for 90 minutes in 30-plus degree heat is properly back-breaking, though I did console myself that it counterbalanced all the excellent food I’ve been enjoying. With a large bucket in each hand, staggering up the sand, I felt like a slightly less glamorous and sweaty contestant on the World’s Strongest Man.

There is of course a sad side to this. Whilst the hatchery is focused on ensuring more babies are born and released. There are permanent residents, fins missing because they got trapped in fishing nets, or turtles with stomachs full of plastic and resulting has which means they can only float on top of the water. On Fridays we all took part in beach cleans ups, making a small contribution to the huge amount of plastic that fills the ocean.

The whole experience was magical. I’ll never forget the first time I picked up a turtle and felt its surprisingly soft neck and flippers. I booked the experience through GoEco and would highly recommend it. Most volunteers are young, but there was a small (and clearly superior) sprinkling of older participants.

The age mix did make for some entertaining WhatsApp exchanges. For example:

Rishad: “Hi Mika and Jona, please come and meet Richard at the main office of Asha House before 12pm today.”

Two hours later —

Mika: “Hey guys, we want to apologise for the loud music last night. It won’t happen again! We are very sorry! Mika and Jona.”

Chatting to one of the young German women, she asked whether I had a room to myself.

“Yes,” I replied. “If you’re over 45 they don’t let you share — you have to pay a single supplement.”

Her response? “It’s alright for the 18-year-olds to share, but I’m 22 now and I’m too old to be in a shared dorm.”

The Asha House team look after you well. All meals are provided if you want them, and there are free activities. I cycled through rice fields, visited a temple and bravely attended a yoga session, at which I was the only participant not in a crop top — which nearly finished me off after a day of bucket-lugging. Volunteer sessions are only about four hours a day, leaving plenty of time to explore or relax on the beach.

Unawatuna itself wouldn’t be my first choice for a holiday. It’s a seaside resort largely dominated by Russian tourists and could, frankly, be almost anywhere in the world. Not somewhere I’d rush back to, but it worked perfectly as a volunteering base. Finding good Sri Lankan food was a bit of a challenge — apparently pizza and burgers are in high demand — but I managed to track down a few places serving excellent roti, kottu and curry. I savoured every bite, knowing that on 21st February I’ll be back on the road with Nicky, hunting down even more fabulous local food.

On the middle weekend, I escaped to Yala National Park and was lucky enough to spot a leopard, elephants, mongoose and some stunning birds — including one of my favourites, the little bee-eater. I stayed in the small town of Tissamaharama, where wandering around the lake and visiting the temple on a Saturday afternoon was utterly delightful. I lost count of the number of girls aged around six to eight who stopped me to demonstrate their excellent English:

“Hello Miss, my name is ___, what is yours and where are you from?”

One little girl proudly informed me her dad currently lives in England — in Luton, of all places!

Today is my last day on the project, and I’ve just received a WhatsApp message announcing an additional opportunity to release baby turtles at dusk tonight. Of course I’ll be joining in. Mother Nature is a remarkable thing, and witnessing it up close is utterly priceless.