Clarion is over! :-(

One flight later and I am on Long Island, NY.

Things to do next:

Step 1. Rest.

Step 2. Buy new external hard drive and emergency backup all data. Something has gone funky with my poor laptop.

Step 3. Flight #2. Back to London. Return to ZSL.  Do a literature search on my next lot of species and commence classification.

Step 4. BLOG CLARION LIKE CRAZY.





step ??. profit!

Well, my transcontinental flight was not as bad as I feared.  Plane change in Chicago went smoothly, I landed in San Diego early, and my baggage was not lost (ripped, but not lost).

Airport-UCSD travel consisted of me pulling a map out of my bag, pointing at the small red circle and saying, "Get me there."

He did.  I am at Clarion. And it is clearly all kinds of awesome.

So was Dr Who's latest episode "The Sound of Drums", but that's a different story.

Now I will shut up and go back to bed.

New York is warm, sultry and I do rather suspect that brain is melting out my ears and evaporating.  It is 11pm (4am) and I am playing the jetlag defeating game "How Late Can I Remain Awake &  Lucid?"

If I start making burbling noises, pleae do not be alarmed.

My cross-Atlantic journey proved boring and uneventful (ie. very pleasant; I do not want things getting exciting at 24,000ft) and I've spent the last two days teak-oiling my parents deck furniture, ripping up ivy, and making a list of everything I accidentally left in London.  (One of the things I discovered that I didn't leave behind was sharp-edged and metal and in my hand luggage . . . and has been for at least three other transatlantic/transpacific flights.  Consider me coloured a pale shade of concerned.)

- - - -

Have acquired copies of Baker's "Gods & Pawns", CJ Cherryh's "Collected Short Fiction" and Bear's "New Amsterdam", none of which I will have time to read before I set off at 7am tomorrow morning. 

Have not acquired "Red Seas Under Red Skies" by Lynch (UK release 21 June). Am mildly peeved. May be good thing, however, as "Lies of Loch Lamora" rocked my socks off to such an extent that I may wear nothing but sandals for the rest of my life. If the sequel is as good, what will I do for footwear?  

- - - -
. . . . right,  time for sleep.

Right, time for Spot-the-laptop to go inside  the pillowcase, inside the computer bag, inside the hand luggage rucksack.  Of course, when I get to security, I will have to excavate everything remotely electronic. . . .


 . . . .

And we're off!

San Diego, according to the BBC.

Day & night temperatures (*C)

Wednesday	32	17
Thursday	33	17
Friday	33	17
Saturday	29	17
Sunday	31	17

17? At night? I am going to melt!

Repack time!

Isn't it good I quite like packing. :)

What you do is take the contents of your wardrobe and dump it on the bed. Then dump half of that on the floor. Push it around a little to make pretty coloured cloth-mountains.

The next step is to scratch your head and wonder about your taste in clothes.  Also, why do you own five black t-shirts and exactly zero shorts or swim suits?  Doesn't matter-- put it all in the bag. 

First rule of packing: To save space, wear bulky things on the plane and your biggest pair of shoes.
Second rule of packing:  if you forget anything, you can probably buy later.
- - - - - - -

Updated:

Dear Customs People,

I am not a tea smuggler. I just happen to have six different types of leaf tea in my bag.

I promise that herbal leaf tea is not anything particularly illicit.   Also, those 3 jars of marmite?  Ignore those. They're not for me, k?

Love,

me

I have not been on the internet properly for some time. I have not answered emails, not returned phone calls and, generally, have been nowhere to be found.

The reason for this is: a work deadline from hell. 8.30-7, seven days a week.

The reason for the deadline: um. . .yeah, about that.

I'm going to Clarion.

This Clarion.

_{I am an idiot}

I finished the WORK THING yesterday afternoon; my first flight leaves in less than twelve hours.

I have the fretting, pacing, omgwhatamidoingohthehumanity! nerves like you wouldn't believe!

Packing starts now. So does the Official Clarion Log.


_{aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh}

You know, Paris is a lot like London: except it has wider streets, a rickety-looking working Metro (as opposed to a swish-looking, ever-delayed Tube), and more gravity.

Alas, for my poor camera and iPod.