LETTER FROM SRI LANKA: Trincomalee, in the north-east of Sri Lanka, is battered testimony to the effects of two decades of conflict, writes Deirdre Veldon.
It has neither the faded colonial charm of some of the island's older towns, nor the first signs of prosperity being enjoyed by others. It is less bustling than chaotic, more backward than quaint.
Ten miles up the coast at Nilaveli, the landscape is pockmarked with the shells of burned and mortar-bombed houses, shops and hotels. The monotony of this desolate strip is punctuated by camps, occupied by the internally displaced people of Sri Lanka, who fled the fighting in the north. Roads are poor and bridges are destroyed and hastily rebuilt again and again.
Dogs are thinner here.
Nilaveli was once a place with aspirations. In the years before the worst of the fighting hit here, it was tagged as a developing tourist destination, with picture-perfect coastline and a better aspect to the sometimes inhospitable Indian Ocean of the southern and western coasts.
Businesses sprouted up along the coast from Trincomalee to take advantage of the small, but growing numbers of tourists. One by one, they were destroyed.
The war which has killed 64,000 people has also stunted the growth of this otherwise perfect tourist idyll. A "permanent" ceasefire has been in place since February last year, but the only visitors to this area are the refugees from the north, who are not enjoying the delights of the putative jewel of Sri Lanka.
The resettlement of displaced people was one of the most contentious issues in the last round of peace talks between the Sri Lankan government and the Rebel Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam. Eventually, both sides agreed the first stage of a programme which will involve the resettlement of 200,000 families, almost a quarter of whom are now living in welfare camps. Up to a million people have been displaced since the civil war broke out in 1983. Sri Lanka's government is concerned that the return of refugees to the north will create instability in the region.
However, it can't afford not to allow people to move home as pressure on land is already intense - this teardrop-shaped island is only slightly larger than Ireland and is home to 19 million people.
And there are other competitors for precious space. In the elephant corridor near the ancient city of Polonnaruwa, the local population suffers a jittery co-existence with the wild elephants who use this traditional seasonal migration route from the north-west to the south-east.
No sooner had the government cleared the land to make way for the elephant corridor, than desperate settlers moved in. Houses and grain stores sport yawning gaps in walls and roofs, where an opportunistic elephant has entered in pursuit of food.
But the government has more pressing issues to deal with than illegal settlers on the elephant corridor. This is a country trying to divest itself of the legacy of wave after wave of invaders and immigrants, including the British, Dutch and Portuguese. It is coming to terms with its more recent past, and trying to rebuild its economy and tourism industry.
Recently, it has been trying to enlist the support of the opposition parties to ensure the success of the peace talks. The impetus for peace came when the Tamil Tigers dropped their claim for a separate state in the north and east in return for autonomy and a significant degree of devolution of power to the island's 3.2 million Tamils.
A fifth round of talks, which begin in Berlin today, is expected to focus on human rights, with the issue of recruitment of child soldiers high on the agenda. The Tamil Tigers are coming under increased pressure to stop the abduction of children to be used as soldiers and return those who have already been abducted.
UNICEF has requested the return of nearly a thousand children it estimates are still with the Tamil Tigers. It has logged more than 300 complaints of forced child recruitment since the ceasefire began.
One of the most outspoken critics of the Tigers has been Sri Lanka's president, Mrs Chandrika Kumaratunga, who is at loggerheads with Prime Minister Ranil Wickremesinghe over his handling of the peace talks. Last weekend, Mrs Kumaratunga said: "These are not peace talks. This is a peace circus."
Mrs Kumaratunga, who was blinded in her right eye by a Tiger suicide bomber in 2000, this week led celebrations to mark the 55th anniversary of independence from Britain. In her address, she was upbeat about the prospects for recovery.
There are reasons to be optimistic. Tourists have started to return. Later this month, Mr Kofi Annan will be the first UN Secretary General to visit in 35 years.
There may be positive signs, but the peace process still hangs in the balance. A positive resolution to these talks will go a long way to ensuring the years of conflict are truly in the past.
Sri Lanka can then look towards its future.