MAYBE YOU’RE AN honest-to-god traveling person, the sort of free spirit who clocks in at the ol’ McJob long enough to book a cheap courier ticket to another country, where you roam for a month, sleeping on beaches, making new best pals forever with the people snoring next to you at the hostels, learning about the local ways from the old guy propped beside you at the smoky watering hole down the road. Or maybe you’re like me – a procrastinator, a far-away dreamer, someone who trolls the travel section of your local indie bookstore, getting lost for hours in the pages of books detailing the sights and customs of a land you have no actual immediate plans to visit. Either way, you’ve certainly spent some time sunk in the thick, glossy pages of a Lonely Planet travel guide. Unique in both its approach to travel (encouraging folks to journey with the immersion of a traveler rather then with the consumerism of a tourist) and to readers (irreverent entries encompass a wide range of sensibilities, income brackets, and cultural affiliations), Lonely Planet has been cranking out guidebooks and assorted travel literature for more than 30 years, under the direction of Australian publishers Maureen Wheeler and Tony Wheeler.
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