Editor’s Letter
IN ITS INAUGURAL ISSUE, 35 YEARS AGO THIS MONTH, what was then known as Condé Nast’s Traveler published Christopher Buckley’s breezy account of drifting down the Amazon in a luxury yacht with various billionaires and royals, accompanied by the irreverent essayist-humorist’s own photos (including the cover). The issue also contained such relics as a guide to hemlines in eight cities and a deeply reported analysis of business-class meal offerings on a dozen international flights. Consider for a moment what’s changed since then, besides nearly everything about Traveler: In 1987, there was no TSA, no shoe removal, no liquid bans. Nonfliers could accompany passengers to their gates. You could smoke on planes, copiously, but there was no seatback entertainment. There was also no online booking or e-ticketing. There was no Uber or…