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Welcome to Charles de Gaulle airport in Paris. Local time: 5:00 a.m.
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We share half our lunch.
Later, on le Metro, a young father holding a bottle of half-finished milk while cradling his sleeping infant, lurches down each moving subway car. In his hand, an empty paper cup. Waves it from passenger to passenger for coins.
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The faces of migrants.
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Fall asleep. Exhausted. Wake up three hours later in la gare Avignon.
And we still have no idea how to find the number on a French highspeed railway car.