I’m in Arizona.
I flew in yesterday: ten hours from Gatwick to Dallas, a two hour stopover in Dallas, two hours to Phoenix and then a three hour car-ride to Sierra Vista.
It was a fairly exhausting itinerary but it went reasonably well.
Jessica and I flew with American Airlines mostly due to their "more room" campaign. Unfortunately, we ended up in one of the crappier planes in the fleet and the leg room was of the typical cramped variety. We had also chosen our seats online when we booked but they bore no correlation to the seats we actually ended up being assigned.
Still, despite these and other SNAFUs (like they’re being no customs declaration forms on the plane prompting a mad flurry of form filling at the emmigration desk), things went smoothly enough.
The planes were filled with Americans coming home for Christmas including some servicemen, one of whom bore an "Iraqi Freedom" T-shirt.
A T-shirt… of a war. Tasteful.
While waiting at Dallas airport (which is swimming in Wi-Fi, by the way), I heard what sounded like a "Terry Pratchett" being paged for our flight. When we boarded the plane I thought I spotted the Discworld author in first class. But I trust neither my ears when listening to a crackly airport tannoy nor my other senses after a ten hour flight across the Atlantic. So maybe it wasn’t him.
Anyway, my travelling is done for now. All my activities for the next two weeks will be of the decidedly stationary variety and most of them will be epicurean in nature. Food and family are the watchwords of this stateside visit.