Sigiriya, Sri Lanka - An escalating war with Tamil Tiger rebels and increasingly gruesome headlines on the human rights situation means that the rich or famous are now staying away - and rooms in the island's boutique hotels are going for a song.
"They (tourists) have known for years that terrorism here is centred around military targets," said Gehan Wijeratne, director of Jetwing Group which runs a chain of 10 hotels, including three properties catering to the deep-pocketed visitor.
"But travellers don't like lawlessness, where there are extra-judicial killings, abductions. It sends shivers down their spine. Human rights are emerging as a bigger concern, people starting to brand us as a dirty destination."
One example of luxury rooms going cheap is at Jetwing's Vil Uyana, or Water World - a resort built over a wetland in Sigiriya, 170km north of Colombo.
From the outside, the 25 thatched roof huts built over lush green rice paddy fields are a throw-back to an early civilisation, but the interiors are designed to pamper to every whim of the most discerning traveller.
"It's like living in a private nature reserve," said British banker Michael Maillou as he worked on his tan, sipped fresh mango juice and took in a view of lakes and reed beds populated by monkeys and wild elephants.
"This is paradise, to relax among hundreds of birds, butterflies, two crocodiles and get a piece of history," he said waving to the nearby fifth-century Sigiriya rock fortress, a world heritage site.
Near the stunning fortress, once the seat of a playboy king, are frescoes of half-naked women and a spread of ruins of the island's ancient royal kingdoms.
And thanks to the mostly grim headlines on Sri Lanka putting off many potential visitors, Maillou can also savour one of the best buys in the tropics: rather than the usual daily rate of $400 (about R2 800), the picture-postcard eco-lodges are going for $125.
Famed for its hills of tea plantations, golden beaches, abundance of wildlife and ancient religious sites, the teardrop island of Sri Lanka is now crying out for tourists.
The problem is that as the Tamil Tigers once again step up their fight for an independent ethnic homeland in the north and east, and as government forces respond with equal veracity, the frontline is never far away.
After an all-too brief lull in fighting following a 2002 ceasefire agreement and the 2004 Asian tsunami, the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam (LTTE) have attacked in Colombo, the south, the east - almost everywhere on the tiny island.
The Tigers have even managed to smuggle light aircraft into their northern mini-state, adding air power to their deadly arsenal of suicide bombers and forcing Sri Lanka's sole international airport to shut up shop at night for fear of more nocturnal raids.
Mounting "disappearances" have also been reported, with mutilated bodies turning up on a regular basis.
"Tourists with deep pockets are our mainstay, but we can't attract enough because of the macro situation in the country," Vil Uyana's manager, Tissa Wickramasuriya, said of the fighting.
Hotels as a whole are now reporting only 30 to 40 percent occupancy, as even aid workers - who packed rooms following the tsunami - are rare thanks increasing donor fatigue with the intractable conflict.
Places like Vil Uyana can still manage to pull in the odd guest, but similar boutique resorts stand empty.
For Geoffrey Dobbs, a British national who worked in Sri Lanka's hospitality industry for 12 years, things have never looked so bleak.
"Things are really bad. We attract the high-end clientele who can have a peaceful holiday in any part of the world," said Dobbs, who runs five small luxury hotels, including a private island in the south.
"I see a lot of bankruptcy," says Dobbs. "Sadly it's going to get worse before it gets better."
At present, hotel industry workers say the luxury sector is struggling to score the 40 percent occupancy rates needed to cover operating costs.
But even that is no longer good enough, as owners of boutique hotels - including tea plantation mansions and colonial-era homes converted into expensive villas - need to pay off debts and retain bored staff.
Falling prices also threaten to damage the image of Sri Lanka's luxury resorts, which have been marketed on the premise that the high tariffs at least guarantee the rich - and possibly very famous - a bit of peace and quiet.
At the same time, keeping prices too high means no visitors.
Feeling the pinch on this is Lalin Jinasena, who owns the 12-room retro-chic Casa Colombo villa in the capital - a 200-year-old Moorish mansion where a room currently costs $155 a night instead of the hoped-for $600.
"The rich will not want to come if Sri Lanka has an image of a cheap destination," Jinasena said.