At the end of two weeks in off-the grid Quebec, I braved the bright lights of a (now defunct) bookstore in the Ottawa airport. I had nothing left to read and a two-and-a-half hour flight ahead of me. I picked up Michael Ondaatje’s The English Patient, because I love books set during World War Two. An hour into the flight I looked up. Where was I? Where had the time gone? Who are these two small beautiful boys beside me? (Ha —they’re mine!) And how lucky was I to have found a great read at the airport?
And now again. I was visiting friends in beautiful Vermont and had finished the book I’d brought. (I’ll save Pushkin’s Eugene Onegin for another post. There’s a reason it’s a classic, and an opera, and a movie.) 
I picked up a few magazines and a Smart water at the Burlington airport kiosk, then glanced at the racked books. Would there be anything for me? I don’t like thrillers and I hate mysteries. (I don’t care who did it.) Beach reads and rom coms bore me. Ooh, there’s Miranda July’s All Fours, in paperback. Too bad I’ve already read and loved it.
Then I spotted a book by David Nicholls, the English writer who broke our collective hearts with his One Day. (Book, 
movie, recent tv series: I’ve wept over its every iteration.)
You Are Here is his latest book. 
It’s about two lonely middle-age divorcees trekking across the English countryside. Michael is a geology teacher who knows the age of mountains and the difference between a reservoir and a lake. He’s not unlikeable, just a little dry. Marnie is a book editor with a deep knowledge of literature and pop culture. Her every allusion is funny, and literary. “Are we wuthering?” When she sees blue sky and clouds she thinks: It’s like the opening of The Simpsons.
He’s an experienced hiker; she’s on the look out for a taxi cab back to London. What could go wrong? I’m only half way in and have laughed out loud countless times. Thank you, David Nicholls.
It doesn’t always work out this way. I recently picked up a memoir at an airport kiosk, read most of its drek the whole flight, then left the book at baggage claim. My seat mate said, “You must be enjoying it, you’ve been reading the whole flight.” Mmm. No.
When I open a book, I am always hopeful.
Happy summer, happy reading.