Jump on a plane

They told me to study it, to do a Master’s degree in journalism. Do that, spend a few years at a local newspaper, then a national one, and then, maybe, hopefully—well, probably not—they’ll send you somewhere exciting. That was the way to become a foreign correspondent, they said. Some of these reporters had wanted to go abroad but hadn’t; others had hopped around newspaper offices in London, having spent perhaps a couple of years abroad, but lamented what could have been when I, a starry-eyed twenty-something sought their opinions on how to get away.

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