It’s Leap Day, a bonus, a gift, an intermittent reminder that we live in a universe with rules of its own. Yes, we can parcel our annual passage around the sun into 365 tidy intervals, but there will be hours left over, almost six of them. Adding an extra day every four years keeps our calendars in sync with the seasons. 

This year I’ll experience fewer of these extra hours. Jet travel will erase them. 

Still, it’s not a bad way to celebrate Leap Year: by leaping into the future, embarking on a journey, landing in a place I can scarcely imagine but will soon (I hope) see. 

(Lisbon is our first port of call, but only to catch a connecting flight.)