Imagine yourself in an arid land of blistering sun. As far as the eyes can see, are mystical spires that revisit long forgotten era of splendor. Only, this particular day, there are no soldiers and princesses and kings, no palm readers nor slaves - just me. Just the occasional toddy palm tree and bushes that thrive despite the seasonal droughty spell. I found myself at the peak of a solitary tower made of bricks, cornices and stucco walls stare languidly from their dirt-ridden constitution. There are so many temples that my eyes can see, visiting each one would be close to impossibility.
This is the land that overdosed on temples way back 1st to 6th century, when as much as 5,000 temples have been erected. A good 2,000 still exists, although stages of neglect are obvious. Most of these temples are deserted. And I am honoured to be in their presence.
Way down below is my horse-drawn carriage. I am recovering from the hazardous heat. I have downed my 6th water bottle in the last 5 hours - that's a record. If I were a soldier or steward back in those days, what would I be thinking? I couldn't help but daydream.
This is the Eye in the Sky wallowing in the splendour of Old Bagan in the heart of Myanmar.