With a Turkish delight melting in my mouth, I get a last glimpse of the Pacific coastline. Ahead of me, I have almost 13 hours of flying until our 777-300ER reaches the Bosporus. Back in San Francisco, Michael and the others have been staging the first in a series of marches for nuclear power, trying to save Diablo Canyon and other critical sources of low-carbon electricity.
Just before leaving, I took Jon to Shalimar, my favourite Pakistani restaurant in Tenderloin. It is a truly timeless place, much like one of those streets in New York where you can imagine people living out their whole lives.
With every new layer, it gets harder to part with America even as I have missed my boys beyond words ever since I left Umeå nine long days ago. The Dialogue in particular had this remarkable mix of, on one hand, completely safe space and, on the other hand, razor-sharp questions that challenged me on every level. But for now, summer in North Sweden awaits!