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/ 3 July 2007

Spice invaders

Eyelids closed, I clutched a fistful of marble-white sand, fine as flour, then opened my palm to feel the warm sea breeze blow it gently away. I squinted into the sunlight, across the iridescent white, the palm-lined shore, out to the aquamarine ocean, the azure sky. Here I am, in the place with the most poetic name in the world, writes Ed Vulliamy.

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