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Jim Geraghty
I expect no sympathy, but bear with me as I try to restart the mental engine with caffeine after a whirlwind — awaken early Sunday morning in Salzburg, Austria, and get the suitcases, wife, and children to the train station; take the train to Munich, Germany; change trains to take the S-Bahn to the airport; check in; wait in the long lines to get through security and passport control; take the flight to London Heathrow; then wait in the long lines to get through security and passport control again when your name has literally come up in a terrorist plot of the Irish Republican Army; and then get on the seven-hour flight back to the United States, where Dulles awaits with its own incompetent disinformation about which bag is arriving on which carousel. (It wasn’t all bad; the Mobile Passport app is sent from heaven.) It all adds up to about 24 hours from door to door. More on what I saw in Europe in a bit, but first
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