My friend and I live in Estonia, the northeastern border of the EU, and getting anywhere by plane means waking up in the middle of the night. Our boarding in Tallinn started at 5:40, and by 14:00 French, we were having lunch in Chamonix’s Little Boxes. After a bomb scare at Geneva airport (someone left a bag somewhere — I swear I wanted to just march in and open that fucker for all to see) — a Swisstours bus promptly took us to the centre of Chamonix. We didn’t know how (un)eventful getting there would be — I had had Janssen, my friend only 1 Pfizer shot and needed to be tested regularly — hence the relatively tame expectation of walking only 13 km to Les Houches that day.
Why the Key to Curbing Gun Violence and Ending Mass Shootings Lies in Our Driving Laws
When I was 16, I got my driver’s permit. At 16 and 4 months I walked into my first Driver’s Ed class at Conard…