Write the right answer to the question based on the context passage.

Let me give you an example: Television drama's whole point is to bring you through an often slow start, followed by a complex development to a point where there are two or three potential dénouements before, "Cut!", it is the end of the episode and you will have to await the "right answer" in the following week's show.
This post came to me at 10pm last night, on Day 16 of this challenge, after a day of holidaying in London and with my head (and feet) too weary to put finger to touchscreen.
Mrs Mc and I had just watched another live instalment of Broadchurch, murder mystery extraordinaire, particularly since in the second series there is no actual fresh murder to investigate. The verdict is about to be given on the accused killer from Series 1 when the inevitable happens... Cue title music.
This moment has even gained a moniker in British homes, based on the theme tune to the real masters of the four-times-a-week cliffhanger, London-based soap opera Eastenders. It's call a "ba...ba...ba...ba, ba, ba-ba-ba-ba" (YouTube will provide overseas readers with auditory explanation).
Eastenders is such a master of writing in the perfect pace that every 28 minute episode ends with a tantalising screen freeze on the latest shocked face / smirking baddy / confused victim. For really big stories the cliffhanger can last significantly longer. This week, to celebrate the show's 30 year birthday, we will finally find out the answer to a question unanswered for the past 14 months: "Who killed Lucy Beale?"
Now, most classrooms do not involve murder, incest, dodgy deals and danger, but "good teaching" encourages a type of pacing that totally ignores the ingredients that have millions in the edges of their seats every day: the good old cliffhanger. In fact, we see teachers giving away the punchline at the beginning: "Today we are learning this:...". Question: What was the soap opera admired by British people that the author says is a master of writing?
The answer to this example can be: Eastenders
Here is why: The seventh sentence of the passage clearly states that Eastenders is master of writing. So, the answer is Eastenders.

OK. solve this:
We all present these glossy lives to the world; coffee cups presented to dewy sunrises, champagne in airport lounges, luxurious restaurants that cost more than they should and share the blue skies days of exploration. I'm as guilty as anyone.
But, what about behind those scenes? Those days where the wind is so strong you can't instastory for talking (I'm looking at you Cornwall), when travel mistakes happen (like in Vienna where I accidentally booked our trip a day short) or when everyone asks you what your next trip will be and you sheepishly have to answer ‘er, not sure'.
So I thought I'd get a few things off my chest, and confess a few of the reasons why I probably shouldn't be calling myself a travel blogger. And yes, these are all very much first world problems.
1. I hate photographs of myself.
Ironic, no? Especially when one of the first rules of blogging is all about the cult of personality. I just don't like them. I wish I did, but there are few times that I fancy a photo and even less when I like the result.
2. We nip into a MacDonalds at least once every trip.
It has now become a tradition between nicer restaurants to nip in and order a Big Mac and fries at some point of our trip – but especially in Europe for some reason. Why do their MacDonalds meals taste better?
3. Pastels aren't really my shade.
Again, I wish I could be super girly, twirling in gossamer skirts painted in spring shades but I'm just not. My colour palette is decidedly autumnal/jewel hued and usually sticks to a scarf draped around my neck in a hopefully fashionable manner. And I'm totally ok with that.
4. I once travelled all the way to New Zealand and back (stopping in 3 countries enroute) without a lens cap on my brand new, fairly expensive camera.
This is in no way a #humblebrag about the trip, but a comment on how impractical I can be – and how careful I also am. I lovingly wrapped my camera in a soft scarf every day for 3 weeks, growled under my breath at anyone who looked like they might jostle me and at one point found myself accidentally at the top of a dormant volcano with it. As you do. Question: Who doesn't like photos of herself?
Answer:
the travel blogger