Gemma Deavin finds a pilgrimage to a sacred mountain is nothing short of uplifting.

At 2am the chanting begins. Roughly translated, it means, "Let's walk up a mountain in time for sunrise." Snoozing is not an option - it's a holy poya (full moon) day and 20,000 pilgrims will set out in the dark.

Though roughly the height of Australia's Mount Kosciuszko, Sri Pada (2243 metres) is no ordinary peak. Rising dramatically from Horton Plains National Park, in Sri Lanka's central highlands, the summit is the site of a rock formation said to be a giant footprint, which explains why it is revered by four of the world's major religions.

Buddhist legend says that King Valagambha, who lived in the wilderness for 14 years after being driven from his throne in 104BC, found the footprint while stalking a deer. It was then that the gods revealed it was the sri pada (sacred footprint) of Buddha.

Hindus think it is Lord Shiva's. Muslims say it is the solitary print of Adam, where he stood for a thousand years after being exiled from the Garden of Eden. Portuguese Christians, who came to Sri Lanka as missionaries in the 15th century, claimed it to be the footprint of Saint Thomas. Subsequently, the mountain has acquired many other names, including Samanala Kanda, Shiva's Peak and Adam's Peak.

Millions of people have climbed it, including Alexander the Great (330BC), the Chinese traveller Fa Hein (AD413), Marco Polo (1292) and the 14th-century Arab geographer Ibn Battuta.

The village of Dalhousie, at the mountain's base, is abuzz for six months of the year, from the full moon (Unduwap poya) in December to the full moon (Wesak poya festival) in May. It is like a travelling carnival - pilgrimage season transforms the usually sleepy settlement into a whirl of colour, noise and trading. Dozens of rickety public buses are packed into the village square. Hawkers wait attentively for the outbound passengers to find their seats, then target the open windows with baskets of popcorn, chilli mango and peanuts.

Dalhousie's cool air is a welcome respite from the scorching heat of the coast and lowlands. We are among a half-dozen other foreigners arriving in the village after catching steam trains from Colombo to the hill town of Hatton, a short bus ride from Dalhousie.

My boyfriend has carried his surfboard all the way. We plan to end our month-long trip on the south coast but here we're roughly 100 kilometres from the sea and the surfboard commands as much attention from the pilgrims as I imagine the mountain-top footprint will.

We (and the surfboard) are lucky to find a bed at Green House, nestled into the base of the mountain with a handful of rooms and cheerful pink mosquito nets. The festive atmosphere fades with the sun; most guests are eager to get some sleep before the early morning climb.

Later, from the stillness of night, rhythmic puja songs are carried by loudspeakers across the valley, heralding the new day. The air is crisp, the sky clear. Sunrise is going to be a beauty if we make it to the peak in time. It's dark but there's a full moon and a string of lights hugging the path to the summit.

After a power-snack of biscuits and bananas, we join the colourful masses already making their way up the 5200 steps. It is 2.30am. People in dozens of makeshift stalls, lining the path from the village square, prepare for the morning rush. Among the trinkets, souvenirs and the occasional beanie are rows of neatly packaged snacks - curries, roti, nut mix.

It is seven kilometres to the top. The guide books estimate it will take three to four hours. We pass through the ornate sandstone Makhura Gateway, the official start of the ascent, and the first kilometre is deceptively undulating and pleasant. It's rush hour on the mountain but there is a sense of peace among the pilgrims, bathed in moonlight. I learn that the traditional greeting among pilgrims is "karunava" or "compassion to you".

Families have travelled from all over Sri Lanka to scale the peak together. They walk in nades or groups. Young children hold their grandparents' hands as they tackle the first set of stairs. Most are in sandals with just a towel wrapped around their shoulders against the cold. I'm wearing thermals.

The festive atmosphere of Dalhousie reinvents itself here in small tea houses and stalls, set into the side of the mountain, selling hot food, sweets, tea and booklets of poems and songs traditionally sung by pilgrims on the climb. They become beacons of hope, marking our progress as initial undulations give way to endless sets of stairs. Some are almost a metre high, requiring giant lunges to climb. An hour later it's clear that seven kilometres on a constant 45-degree angle is anything but easy.

The calves and shins feel the burn and we peel off layers of clothing. It's not just feeble Westerners who are suffering: the only climbers who scale the stairs with ease are the local dogs, which accompany the pilgrims up the mountain each morning.

We arrive at the top within three hours and endure a freezing hour's wait in the darkness at the summit. Those who make it ring a bell to signify the end of their journey before gathering around a small fire next to the temple.

Sunrise has a supporting act. Minutes before the first golden rays appear, we see bright shafts of light filling the blue pre-dawn sky, like the lines in a child's sketch of the sun. The valley is a purple and blue haze with the hills receding like perfectly constructed sets on a stage.

Pilgrims take turns praying at the footprint. Buddhist pilgrims visiting the summit for the first time place a pure white cloth on the footprint before worshipping it. Monks, who maintain the shrine, arrive from their monastery halfway up the mountain to play their part in the morning rituals. Prayer flags outline the small sacred area where, by sunrise, front-row positions (and any space) are at a premium.

Prayers give way to a muffled awe inspired by the sun's first glow, which leaps rather than rises over a violet horizon. Everyone's gaze moves to the west to see Sri Pada's cone-shaped peak cast a perfect triangular shadow over the landscape.

Before we began this morning, our host offered some advice. "You must never say you might not make it to the top out loud. If such pessimism is voiced, you will be punished by the numerous gods residing at the top and won't be able to move your legs." I took a mental note - positive thoughts, positive thoughts. But within hours of returning I realise Buddha, Lord Shiva, Adam and St Thomas have decided to punish me anyway. My aching shuffle lasts a week.

FAST FACTS

Getting there The cheapest fare to Colombo is $1066 with Malaysia Airlines via Kuala Lumpur. For $1276 Singapore Airlines flies to Colombo via Singapore. Qantas has a fare for $1372 flying Qantas to Singapore and then Sri Lankan Airlines or Singapore Airlines to Colombo. (Fares are low-season return from Melbourne and Sydney and do not include tax.) Australians require a visa, which can be obtained upon arrival for a stay of up to 30 days.

Buses run to Dalhousie from Colombo, Kandy and Nuwara Eliya in the pilgrimage season. Year-round, buses go to Hatton from the same three cities.

Staying there Dalhousie is the best place to start the climb. About 1.5 km before the buses stop there's a handful of guesthouses. Among the options are the River View Wathsala Inn, with 14 large rooms; Sri Pale, a family-run guesthouse with four rustic rooms; and Green House, a simple rest stop before the climb.