I just returned from Sri Lanka, where I followed the footsteps of Geoffrey Bawa, widely considered the father of tropical modernism. I have always been drawn to this architectural language, perhaps because of my Thai roots. The dialogue between wood, vegetation, and open space feels instinctively familiar to me. It has even shaped a personal dream here in Japan: to one day build a house that dissolves the boundary between indoors and outdoors, with large openings framing the surrounding greenery.

My first stop was Lunuganga, Bawa’s former country estate in Bentota, set on a peninsula overlooking Dedduwa Lake. Surrounded by lush gardens carefully shaped by the architect over decades, the property now operates as a small retreat with only a handful of rooms. I had the privilege of staying in Bawa’s own bedroom, which includes a private pool and terrace opening toward the landscape. It was a rare and intimate way to experience his philosophy, where architecture quietly frames nature rather than competing with it.

After this green sanctuary, I continued to Colombo to stay at Number 11, the townhouse where Bawa lived until his death in 2003. Hidden at the end of a modest lane, the residence unfolds through a series of interconnected spaces filled with antiques, art, and objects he collected across Asia, from Sri Lanka to Bali and China. Staying there feels like stepping into another era, yet the design remains strikingly timeless. For anyone visiting Sri Lanka with an interest in architecture or interiors, spending at least one night in one of Bawa’s houses or hotels offers a deeper understanding of how beautifully architecture can exist in harmony with its environment.