Today I flew just about as far as you can get in one direct flight. I spent 11 hrs on the plane from Heathrow to San Francisco and it went amazingly well. In fact, several fellow passengers told my parents afterwards that they didn't hear me cry once and that they were amazed at how calm I'd been. It helped getting my own little carrycot to sleep in. Airlines are usually good like that. We arrived in the mid-afternoon and aunt Ellen came to collect us and drove us back to her and uncle Bernies house in Hillsborough just outside San Francisco. Uncle Bernie and my great granddad Mike were there to greet me. I was very confused and jetlagged though and fell asleep around 6 pm, only to wake up at 2 am, starving, and then again at 6 am. Jetlag is a drag, but at least it means we can all get up very early and get a lot done.