London and Sofia

January 11, 2019

I was on a train across London, connecting from Gatwick to Luton Airports. A woman sat down across from me and was trying to organize her luggage, crutch, purse, and coffee. She handed me her coffee to give herself another hand to work with. She was a Brit living in Saudi Arabia who had come to visit her new grandson. Judging by the time of day, I guessed the flight was overnight with arrival in the morning. "Got it in one!" she replied.

On takeoff from Luton, there was a clear sky and the ground below was filled with fields and hedgerows. As we ascended and banked to the left, a memory stirred. It looked remarkably like the scene in The Snowman when James and the Snowman spiral upward from the garden (except there was no snow on the ground today).

I had an overnight layover in Sofia, with an early morning departure to Israel. I set my alarm for 3:30 and asked my wife to call as backup. The phone rang; I picked up but I could not hear my wife (1). It was 25 past the hour, so I got up, took a shower, packed up (2), and went to check out. The clock over the night manager's head said 3:45. She asked when my flight was (6:00) then asked why I was leaving. I was a bit perplexed until she pointed to the other clock, which said 10:45. This was the time in Sofia (at night). The clock showing 3:45 was New York Time (in the afternoon). As it turned out, I had only slept for about an hour and a half (3), then got a junk phone call at 10:30 p.m., Sofia time. The manager sent me back to bed, and said she would call to wake me at 3:30, Sofia time.

(1) It is remarkable how often a wifi call halfway across the earth actually works, so I do not fret when it doesn't work.

(2) I was surprised how damp the clothes were that I had rinsed out last night. "Must be a very wet climate," I thought.

(3) And, of course, my clothes had only been drying for 1 1/2 hours, which explains why they were still so wet.