There’s a row of small square windows on each side of the plane. Shaftoe looks out to the right and sees mountains covered with snow and gets scared shitless for a moment thinking maybe they’ve strayed into the Alps. But off to the left, it still looks like the Mediterranean, and eventually it gives way to Devil’s Tower type outcroppings rising up out of stony scrubland, and then after that it is just rocks and sand, or sand without the rocks. Sand puckered here and there, for no particular reason, by clutches of dunes. Damn it, they are still in Africa! You ought to be able to see lions and giraffes and rhinos! Shaftoe goes forward to lodge a complaint with the pilot and copilot. Maybe he can get a card game together. Maybe the view out the front of the plane is something to write home about.