JOURNAL OF DIXON AINSLEY
30 July
7:15 p.m.
Astana, Kazakhstan
Writing this quickly while Paulie is having a bath. Today was one of the longest days of my life, even though the hours conform to normality. It started on the plane, where we flew over the polar cap and down over Eurasia to Almaty, Kazakhstan.
“I’m looking forward to the real racing starting,” I told Paulie when we were about to land in Kazakhstan. “Although I do regret the loss of Rupert.”
“Of course you do, and I totally agree.” Paulie made a face, then gave me a considering look. “You do know, of course, that we won’t be able to continue our previous nights’ activities?”
I was surprised by that statement for a moment until I understood what it was she was saying, and felt a little teasing was in order. “We will if you
