Morning dawns to the background crash and suck of the Indian Ocean's waves breaking into scuds of foam on the beach. Sunlight bathes the bedroom; there is bird song audible from the hotel's tropical garden, and I draw back the lace curtains ready to inhale Sri Lanka's heady mix of sea salt, heat and flowers.
That's when I see the guy! The guy! Again!
He's hopping about just outside the bamboo gate to the beach. He's waving a wooden elephant, his eyes fixed firmly on mine, he's pointing at the elephant, gesturing for me to come and see the elephant, he's cavorting and grinning. And he won't go away. I know from bitter experience he just won't.