Got home from California yesterday after a grueling, long and awesome trip; it wouldn’t have been quite so tiring but we checked out of the hotel at 11 am and the first flight wasn’t until 9.30 pm. So we drove round and saw a bunch of places up and down the Pacific Coast Highway, from Laguna Beach where we were staying thru Newport Beach, Huntington Beach and then Longbeach. By the time we put the key in our front door yesterday lunchtime, we’d been on the move for about 26 straight hours, including 3 flights, ~ 3000 miles. I then slept for 8 hours, got up for some food / water, and then slept again for another 8, hopefully setting my body clock back to EST.

The week was amazing, including an evening eating Thai food with our friends Aurelio and Chuck, and another evening eating fish while watching apocalyptic doomy waves smash the hell out of the beach and coastline in a storm. That was the day we arrived in Orange County, and the closest I have ever felt to death on a flight. Coming in to land the plane was being ragged all over by insane high winds; very, very scary. As the wheels were about to touch down, the plane was being thrown side to side and wobbling on the axis banking one way and then the other, and the wing tip almost hit the treetops as we landed somewhere around a hundred miles an hour. Half the plane applauded and half were in a “WTF” style palsy; I have experienced turbulence many times, but never this bad and never this close to the ground at this speed.

The training course was pretty good, the people there from sites all over the country were great and the commute through the Laguna Hills into Irvine down route 133 was gorgeous. And because of a last-minute schedule change, we had to spend Monday entertaining ourselves. This enforced drastic measures, including spending several traumatic hours on the deck at The Cliff restaurant, getting sun-tans, drinking ice-cold beers and looking at this:

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