The tourists stood gazing at the Bagan, Myanmar sunset. The ball of fiery orange turned more and more red as it slid down the sky. The colours reflected on the stone and wood temples and pagodas that spread across the plains. The gold on the roofs sparkled in the light. Faintly a star started to emerge. The hairs on the backs of the watchers tingled at the sensations: colour, noise and smells of this ancient, magical, holy place. All were entranced. Well almost all. The young Australian tourist turned to her companion and loudly screeched…
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