Browsing Bon Voyage, the book that you have in your hand now, I have the same feeling as I have when I look at a small atlas, or when I read Tintin in Tibet, or when I saw King Solomon’s Mines. Looking at the labels collected by Toni Ricart in this book I felt again the urge to travel. When I look at any of these old labels I begin to wonder what this hotel is like, and what kind of landscape surrounds it. Just looking at the labels of the old propeller planes makes me want to y away and relive the feelings of the past, when time was more flexible, when there was no need to rush, when there were no satellite dishes or Internet to warp one’s concept of distance. ose in short, were the days when flight attendants smiled and you could decorate your suitcase with labels that, like tattoos on your second skin, became the map of your personal, non-transferable journey. Bon voyage!
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