The 14 Hour Sunset

Somewhere above Russia



I’ve just been asked to “return to your seat and fasten your seatbelt.” On this New York to Seoul flight instructions are always given first in Korean so you’ll notice passengers adjusting their seats or fastening their belts a moment or two before you understand the PA. It can make you feel a bit dumb when you realize you’re 30 seconds behind the rest of the plane. The turbulence is minor though and standing in the bathroom line during the jitters is easier than staying upright on the express 3 train rumbling towards Times Square.

We’re flying over the far eastern coast of Russia, a white snowy expanse that it’s hard to imagine anyone ever setting foot on. It’s hard to tell where the land ends and the ice flows begin. Given all that I’m forced to reconsider the many armies sacrificed in Kamchakta’s defense during marathon RISK sessions. Its proximity to the Northwest Territory notwithstanding, it’s a far overvalued hunk of ice.

We’re 10 hours into the flight but the time has passed pretty smoothly so far. We’ve been chasing the sunset the whole time and its hanging on the horizon in roughly the same place it was hours ago. When we land in another four hours (at 5:20pm local) it should be sitting there still.