The only time I have been to England was for a barely-overnight layover near Gatwick Airport, where I asked the cabbie about “the Knowledge,” that deep awareness of London street systems he must surely have, according to that one New Yorker article, or maybe it was a Radiolab episode, I don’t know. He shrugged off the question and dropped me at the Premier Inn, where I slept for four hours, then headed back to the airport. ’Twas my England!
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