The bright skin-browning mid-afternoon sun drove me and a gaggle of locals toward the cool shaded entrance of Galle Railway Station. In the open hall there was no chattering split-flap destination displays, just a large chestnut board with the stations hand-painted neatly in yellow. A quaint hand-wound analogue clock hung beside each one to denote the departure time. White-sneakered schoolgirls with book-heavy backpacks shuffled forward in the ticket line like turtles. I booked a third-class ticket to Balapitiya. The vendor handed me a purple chit – like an old movie stub – printed with calligraphic Sinhalese. It cost 70 rupees, roughly 25
