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Taking to the skies in Antoine de Saint-Exupéry s Wind, Sand and Stars

Taking to the skies in Antoine de Saint-Exupéry’s ‘Wind, Sand and Stars’ Mary Winston Nicklin © Mary Winston Nicklin for The Washington Post The author s well-worn copy of Antoine de Saint-Exupéry’s “Wind, Sand and Stars,” published in French as “Terre des hommes” in 1939. The fourth in an occasional series on the books that spurred our love of travel. I can’t remember the last time I flew on a plane. It was over a year ago that the pandemic grounded the world’s citizens and airline fleets. If I really press myself to recall the time before social distancing and ubiquitous masks, before remote learning and Zoom calls, I can conjure a few unremarkable details of that flight: the hold-your-breath moment of weighing an overstuffed bag at check-in, the choreography of shoe and laptop removal in the miles-long security line, the race for overhead bin space, the tray tables in upright and locked positions, the flier’s favorite snack of

60 años de Casa en Jean Mermoz: Reconstruyendo un patrimonio arquitectónico perdido en Chile

60 años de Casa en Jean Mermoz: Reconstruyendo un patrimonio arquitectónico perdido en Chile
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Exploring deserts and atmospheric cities on a leisurely version of the Dakar Rally

Exploring deserts and atmospheric cities on a leisurely version of the Dakar Rally The tour that transported Nick Redmayne through Senegal gave him a vivid set of impressions – and a taste for African rosé A man collects salt on Lake Retba Under the bare metal steering wheel, I wound two wires, eliciting a crackling blue spark. Yaya lifted the Land Rover’s bonnet and pressed a dangling lead to the battery. Painted yellow and emblazoned with the original Dakar Rally logo, the truck hesitated, then rattled into life. Yaya jumped in, settled his quasi-Rastafarian frame into the passenger seat and adjusted the petrol tank, a plastic oil can, with his foot. We were off, the front wheels vaguely following my line, keeping to the beach’s firmer sand just above the surf. A door flapped open … and shut. Then the knob fell off the gearstick. I silently handed it to Yaya.

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