Zug to the Zig
My journey from London to Leipzighypezig begins at 5AM on 1 February 2020. It is an important day: the end of my ridiculously long Christmas holiday, the end of the Biggest Veganuary Ever , and of our time in the EU. Mere seconds after i post this smug (and yes, intellectual) Instagram story reading "fuck Brexit bye bye" from my plush seat on the Eurostar, a tannoy announcement informs us that there are damages to the tunnel; meaning our train is stuck at the edge of England for the foreseeable future. I am reading Frisch's Homo Faber in which a plane crashes and the protagonist gets stranded in a desert for hours. Somebody is punishing my smugness. Three middle-aged Brits destined for Rotterdam are pontificating at a high volume across the aisle from me. I try to read my book but instead involuntarily learn a lot about how badly each of them slept the night before, and about their upcoming annual conference. I remind myself to appreciate being ab...