From the ground, Colombo’s port does not look like much. Those entering it are greeted by wire fences, walls dating back to colonial times and security posts. For mariners leaving the port after lonely nights on the high seas, the delights of the B52 Night Club and Stallion Pub lie a stumble away.

He draws eclectically on studies of baboons, descriptive anthropological accounts of hunter-gatherer societies and, in a few cases, the fossil record.

There is no sugary welcome drink to glug. Rather, Honey, an elderly, overweight Lab mix, waddles and wags my way.

With the base unleashed, the White House was unable to broker a compromise, either by persuasion or by pressure.