An unforgettable hot-air balloon trip took us across the West Bank where we landed, somewhat unplanned, in a field. We were greeted by hordes of Egyptians, both young and old, as they ran barefoot from their basic homesteads to gaze in wonderment at eight tourists who had arrived on their doorstep.
Surely by their very definition, don't tourists always breathe different air?
SOPHIE A. JONES
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