Back in another space-time continuum when you could smoke on planes, hitchhike into Hillbrow, and ‘knock three times on the ceiling if you want me’, I sent Linda Shaw (right) to an astrologer for her birthday. Since Linda’s witty ability to lance the boil of any suppurating issue had long made her an acolyte magnet, it came as no surprise (to me) when her chart revealed a hitherto unexplored destiny as South Africa’s foremost astrology queen.
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Lurching over the shifting sands of Pharoahs’ lands Egypt’s heat hovers like a lovelorn drunk breathing pungent fumes over everyone in its proximity. Respite in our air-conditioned hotel room at Ains Soukhna on the Red Sea – odd name when the water’s blue – is temporary. Open your door and the sun greets you like …