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Waking Up in London
There’s a reason it’s called a red-eye flight. Flying overnight sounds efficient on paper, but the bleary, bewildered haze it induces is almost always inevitable. Perhaps there’s something of a rite of passage, though, in sleepless stumbling around airports that makes the journey feel like a strange dream, and the waking up upon arrival all…
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Let’s Begin at the Beginning
My first journey to Oxford University from departure to arrival can best be marked by strange men who saw me cry. Man 1. Baggage steward in Dublin. Background: I had spent the entire day delayed in D.C., followed by another delayed layover in Boston. We took off from Boston around 1 a.m. I had just…
