10/31 Drove to the gliding club outside Gothenburg where my son will learn to fly. It’s some buildings on a field, like a farm, but the sheds contain airplanes, not tractors. People sitting around a living room table having coffee. Some dabble with a VR simulator. Björn, the chief flight instructor, in his 60s, white beard, shows us around. There isn’t really much to explain: you sign up, you learn, you fly. The hardest problem, as identified by my son, had been how to get out there when J and I are across the ocean. But that will be alright, the people in the gliding club immediately offered to give him rides.