Jerusalem

Made it. Yes, travelling with little people makes the whole affair a bit more stressful. A six-hour flight (was it always six hours? That seems awful short) and I have to be honest, I didn't do anything. Not one thing. I think I flipped through the in-flight magazine for thirty seconds, and played half of one hand of solitaire. The kids were great, and slept for most of the trip, both of them - thanks to our Continental Fairy Godfather we had bulkhead seats and a bassinet for the boy (we owe you guys homecooked meals for a month) - and yet I couldn't sleep or think for the entire trip.

To think I entertained the idea of running lines or reading a book (got a copy of Sarah Vowell's Assassination Vacation for the journey) but ah well.

Zelda's been marvellous, content to walk along side us through the myriad of concourses - Cleveland Hopkins, Newark Liberty, London Gatwick - rolling her new Winnie the Pooh suitcase.

I swear they got Steve Coogan to do the security announcements at Gatwick, it's weird.

Okay, so, not much to report yet, met the housemates Joanna and Deb, they and Brenda had a loverly breakfast set out for us when we arrived, Lydia's still at school, I have had a two-hour nap and I'm still worthlessly loopy. Tomorrow I will get my first glance at St. Vincent's (the performance space) and hopefully get to do a mental, and physical, walk-through. Maybe I will have time to take in the whole hey-we're-in-Britain thing, but for now the radio in Office Albion is playing old fashioned American R&B.

Oh, and I was wrong about the busses. Where did I read they had gotten rid of the double-decker busses?