The plan is for Evan, Vivian, Jo, and I to meet on Tuesday July 7th in Soria, a romanesque town of about 40,000 in central Spain.

Vivian is already in Soria. Except that she is visiting Barcelona for the weekend, but should be back in Soria in time for the last day of class on July 6th.

Evan is in Kathmandu. Most flights from Kathmandu to Europe are on Emirates, Etihad, or Qatar and Trump’s temper tantrums with Iran have made it difficult to plan ahead. So I am tasked with picking up the lad and getting him and me to Spain. I leave Austin a full week before D day and land in Delhi on Thursday July 2nd. After a very pleasant day of conversations and dosas and puris and garden-fresh jamun juice and chai followed by a late night party in Delhi I head out to Kathmandu on Friday. Evan and his friend, with broad grins and teenage boy hair, meet me at Kathmandu airport and drop me off at my hotel. That evening I have a quasi social/business meeting at a beautiful Korean bbq place where we get to sit outside and enjoy the cool Kathmandu weather and a few bottles of excellent chhang. I am struck by how Nepalis communicate with their waiters, security guards, drivers, and others in the service industry. They are polite – which is somewhat unusual for South Asia, friendly – not that unusual in the US or the more egalitarian European cultures, but also warm – which is unique.

The next morning is Saturday July 4th. In a few hours America is going to be waking up to celebrating her 250th birthday with mixed feelings. Evan and his friend arrive at my hotel and Evan tucks in his last jhol momo at the restaurant downstairs. Given Evan’s selective palate, before he left for Nepal Jo and I were worried how he would get by. We clearly needn’t have been. Evan has spent almost three weeks being hosted at the grandparents’ family homes of his friend from Austin. He got to experience life in Kathmandu at a level that a tourist never could. He was indulged with home cooked foods – parathas and puris and alu bhaji and mutton curry and fresh mangos and pineapples and at momo and pizza restaurants. The grandmas and aunts and uncles took him in as family and showered him with affection.

After breakfast the boys and I decide to make a quick trip to Pashupatinath. It’s on the way to the airport and though Evan has seen many sights during his stay at Kathmandu, they have not made it to Pashupatinath, one of the oldest and most sacred sites for Hindus. The Shiva temple dates back to the 4th century and is built along both banks of the Bhagmati river. The main pagoda-style sanctum was closed for the afternoon but we spend over an hour taking in the temple complex, crossing the bridges over the crematorium ghats by the river banks, and up the ancient stone steps to the line of shivalayas on the hill on the other side.

Evan and I fly from Kathmandu to Delhi and spend a few hours of Saturday night at a hotel near the airport, boarding a flight for Helsinki early Sunday morning. After a short layover in Helsinki and before we board our five hour flight to Madrid, Vivian informs us on our family chat that she has missed her bus from Barcelona back to Soria and that her phone is out of juice. The nearest place to charge her phone is inside the bus station that she can’t enter without a valid ticket which she needs her phone to buy. Then radio silence. Jo boards her transatlantic flight from Montreal to Madrid at this point.

Then Vivian informs us that she bought a train ticket to Madrid and will reach there the same time as Evan and I do. From there she’ll take an early morning bus on Monday to Soria in time for her last class. I give her our hotel address and cross my fingers as our flight departs. By the time Evan and I land and get to our hotel in Madrid, Vivian is already there. We haven’t seen Vivian in a few weeks. A joyous reunion!

That night there are two World Cup games. We watch Norway toss Brazil out of the tournament while dinning at an Asian place close to the hotel. I stay awake to watch the Mexico-England battle. Next morning, on Monday, I let Evan sleep while I drop Vivian off at the bus station so she can catch her bus back to Soria. Just as Vivian’s bus departs the station, Jo’s flight arrives from Montreal. For a few minutes, we are in Madrid but in different places. By the time I take the metro back to the hotel, Jo is there and Vivian is half way to Soria. Tomorrow we will drive to Soria and the four of us will be finally together!

In the last five days I have crossed six national/continental borders and spent as many nights on airplanes and airports as in bed. Happy that my next flight is days away and that it all worked out.