Welcome to Charles de Gaulle airport in Paris. Local time: 5:00 a.m.
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.
The faces of migrants.
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.