Standing in the station waiting for the train to Galle, I was met by a man trying to persuade me into his guest house. It's more boring now than anything else, listening to these people. But he showed me some photos, I flicked through them as fast as I could without looking rude, when I came to a picture of the house completely destroyed.
"That's my guest house after the tsunami" he told me. Now I was interested. The next few photos showed a brick house reduced completely to rubble, a hotel owner standing beside it left with nothing.
On the way there, I noticed what I failed to the first time, which was that along the coast line was a series of foundations of what had once been houses. A bit further back, on the other side of the train and behind the palm trees were a load of newer houses which an Austrian lady shooting a documentary with her partner told me were the new houses built by aid organisations.
I remember out shopping in Dundee one day, mum slipped a cheeky little note into a can in Marks and Spencers. I never thought I'd see what that note was going towards.
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