July 12, 2016:

My rowmate is a doctor-to-be. About to leave for med school in Newcastle. She's bright, very shy, and more than a little anxious.

About flying, about talking with a stranger, about talking with a man. Her smile is sweet and she laughs after thinking about it. Don't think she talks much with strange men on airplanes.

"Knock 'em dead in Newcastle," I nod and smile. She has to mull that for a second. When she processes my meaning her face lights up. It's a shame I'll never see her again.