California here we come
We had packed everything the night before so we were ready to creep out of the house at 5.00am the next morning for a 10.00 o'clock flight to San Francisco. The M25 was busy but kept moving and we got there in good time. The last time I was at Heathrow Terminal 2 it looked like a detention centre (or how I imagine a detention centre would look like), but now it is all spruced up and gleaming, which made our wait there more enjoyable. I love airports anyway, plenty of chances to dream. Finally on our way. It seems so odd that, after waiting interminably for an event to happen, it does and rushes past in an instant leaving just the memories and the photographs. The flight was good and the cloud cleared for views over the ice of northern Canada and the Rockies and even the Golden Gate Bridge as we were landing. I had booked a hostel for the night in what I discovered to be a dubious part of town full of beggars, but quite close to the government...