It is six years since the tsunami in Phuket Island and it is imprinted on my brain. I woke at 5am to hear water rushing past my bedroom, the swimming pool was emptying. I rang the lobby girls at the Amanpuri and immediately a man was sent to my room. At the time my children were waking up and Charles my eldest son was doing Common Entrance. Everybody was their supporting him so that morning we didn't rush to the beach, we sat with him, helping him. We were saved. At about 9.30 I noticed that the sea looked moody and beautiful, sort of emerald green and one boat was far out to sea, but I was on the safe side of my favourite hotel the Amanpuri. Then about two hours later our house filled up with refugees who had lost everything, their rooms on the Pansea beach swept away. Terrible stories of trapped tourists on the top of trees, babies lost, husbands and wives parted, extraordinary stories of bravery. Later that afternoon my sons went to try and help to take rice anything to these poor people. We found boats in the middle of the towns, half the roads broken, people lying dead everything beautiful destroyed. We could not leave as the airport was full of survivors and the dead. It was terrifying to watch and still haunts me.
One week later with amazing attitudes and people working together the mess was tidied up. Despite huge losses the Thai people put on brave faces. Six years on no one mentions the day after Christmas, they all put on faces that all is fine when you know that they are in pain. I do not forget. My hat comes off to brave people of Phuket.
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