Word: airporters
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...30pm: Outside Nikola Tesla Airport, cab drivers approach us in quick succession after I arrive with my boyfriend and his sister for a three-day trip to visit his friend from college. We've been warned to be wary of unmetered 'gypsy' cabs run by drivers eager to overcharge clueless tourists. My boyfriend tries to reason with one, insisting that his friend, a Belgrade native, assured us that a cab would cost no more than 1,500 dinars— nothing close to the 2,500 the cabbie has quoted. The driver retorts, "Well, why doesn't your friend pick...
...Laura and Euna will be reunited with their families." The Korean Central News Agency called the release of the two journalists a sign of North Korea's "humanitarian and peace-loving policy." And at 5.50 a.m. pacific time (8.50 a.m. ET) Wednesday, their plane touched down at Bob Hope Airport in Burbank outside Los Angeles. (See pictures of Euna Lee and Laura Ling's return to America after Bill Clinton's rescue mission...
...baby elephants just outside our safari truck, lions resting with their morning kill, white sand beaches, and the sun setting over the Indian Ocean. But when I think of the thousands of tourists who come to Tanzania and see nothing but the Serengeti, Zanzibar, and the inside of an airport, I'm sad for them. They are missing out on what, to me, is the real Africa...
Whatever the new rules say, experts agree they aren't likely to delve into too much minutiae. "[They are] not going to clarify that driving someone to the airport is O.K., but getting on the plane with them isn't," Jackson says. "[They are] much more likely to specify relevant factors such as whether the person who assisted with the suicide stood to gain any financial advantage, or exerted any pressure on the person [who committed suicide...
...backtracking and subterfuge ultimately led to one place: the airport. If they were going to get me, this is where it would go down. In the end the files and flash drives came with me. I stepped through the stage one final time, the set design of my own making. Nothing happened. I made it through immigration in Tehran and carried myself through without incident all the way to Montreal. There, during my final layover en route to the United States, I was finally patted down. I watched the agent spread books and magazines pulled from my backpack out before...