I’m leaving the Heathrow Express from London Paddington. Walking in the endless underground tunnels to make my way to the Queen’s Terminal, I hear behind me “Rock Chalk.”
I turn around.
A guy — college age, of Asian heritage — in a Jayhawks fleece sweater is making his way back to Lawrence after visiting family in the UK.
He spotted by University of Kansas Jayhawks identification tag on my suitcase.
Jayhawks are everywhere.
And I’m glad for this truth!
With apologies to Paul Simon:
Hello jet lag, my old friend
I’ve come to talk with you again
Because a vision softly creeping
Left its seeds while I was sleeping
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Within the ache of jet lag
In restless dreams I flew alone
Friendly skies, but never prone
‘Neath the halo of a blazing sun
I could not sleep — this is no fun
When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light
That split the night
I kept awake, with jet lag
Meanwhile, on this Sunday, I decided to repair to my bed after breakfast to listen an NPR story before showering and venturing forth into the gray day. Church was on the agenda, and brunch later.
Instead, I day-slept from 930 a.m. to noon.
My body is still a mess from the travel and time zone changes!
Random photos from the trip, not yet published:
Dinner in Cambridge. BBQ chicken pizza. And a local G&T. (The BBQ sauce was very sweet.)
Breakfast in Vienna.
Vienna hotel room.
We don’t see Uzbekistan Airlines every day in the USA!
Red Square. Moscow.
The view from my flat in London.
Photos from Friday and Saturday in London and away . . . .
The Shard peeks through the leafless trees.
HMS Belfast and Tower Bridge, on a gray day.
Friday morning: a line for breakfast.
A lone daffodil.
My friend Robin lives in the mews on an estate. This view is from his front door.
IMPERIAL WAR MUSEUM:
The remnants of a Japanese fighter from WWII.
And this: the London flat of Captain William Bligh of the HMS Bounty:
The blue plaque marks the home. This is a block from my own flat in Lambeth North.