6.06am GMT (UTC), Heathrow (Waiting for the bus to Gatwick)
The wedding was wonderful; The bride was beautiful, the service was amazing and the reception was merry. I tired myself out playing cricket with my nephew. Staggered back home only to realise that even though I'm traveling by eticket I might need to know the number. So, several cursed words and application of long nosed pliers later I managed to connect the household PC to the interweb, only to find that virgin hadn't sent me a eticket at all (or I'd deleted it.) The helpful woman on the phone tells me I have to ask at the main virgin desk at Gatwick this morning.
Four and a half scant hours of sleep only interrupted by a SMS from acme later...
The bus from Chippenham was fifteen minutes late arriving. And the first thing the driver asked me was "Do you know the way back to the M4 from here?" I would be annoyed if the driver wasn't such a decent bloke, and we hadn't just spent the last two hours shooting the shit. And I've just watched the dawn come up along the M4. I can feel the surreal edge of any YAPC trip kicking in, and I haven't even left the country yet.
8.13am GMT (UTC), Pizza Express Gatwick
Fading fast. Stating to feel nausious though lack of sleep (must sleep on the plane.) Have ordered breakfast - let's see if that sorts me out. Lack of eticket wasn't a problem. Maybe watching "Saving Private Ryan" isn't such a good idea when semi-asleep. Where's the damn free wireless in this place?
9.58am GMT (UTC), Gate 35 Gatwick
Went through security. No-one swabbed my shoes this time (unlike when I went to Geneva.) Remembered I didn't buy travel insurance so had to pick up an instant insurance pack from the airport, which is terribly expensive and doesn't cover most cases (for example, if my Mac gets knicked, they'll pay out 200ukp...) OTOH, I can now (literally) afford to break my leg. I always forget that when you go outside the EU you actually have to pay for treatment of such things. Still no wireless...turning Airport off for flight now.
2.05pm GMT (UTC), The Atlantic Ocean, 2995 miles to Florida
Okay, so they inspected my shoes during boarding. I should have bought a bottle of water with me to drink on the plane. Might actually try and update my slides now.
7.51am EDT, The Conference Center
Yey! Got lots of work done on my slides. I want to tweak a couple more examples, but that's done. Also watched two movies and didn't die. Bonus.
Nine hours of flight and I was itching to get off the plane. American customs are no fun whatsoever, and they asked all kinds of annoying questions. At least whenever I was stopped, the first question I was asked is "Where you're flying in from?" and as soon as I said the U.K. I was waved through.
Information at the airport directed me to the free bus to the train station (free!) Walked outside...wow. First up, it was wonderful sunshine when I left London. But it's raining here. Raining and like 80% humidity. Wow. Run for the aircon! Caught the train to Boca Raton, which was about a tenth the cost it would be to travel on the UK rail. Met Mark Overmeer getting off the train and we debated the the cost of catching a cab. A helpful police officer asked us where we were going, and then pointed out that the hotel was literally just round the corner. D'oh.
Finally made it to the hotel. Oooh! A Pool! A Pool! Found acme, james and Pierre who had apparently been spending all day sorting out the Fotango sponsored badges for the conference (in between lounging by the pool and abusing the wireless.) A quick swim later and fifty or so geeks head off to this Sushi Buffet. Really! Sushi. Buffet. What a concept.
uri made a brave effort to organise us but was thwarted by the staff trying to help him out and charge everyone for what they've eaten (instead of just letting us say "here...take 35bucks off this credit card"). Back for last orders at the bar at the hotel which was at a disturbingly early 10pm. Pool. Hot-tub. Realising at 11pm that I'd been up for 26 hours, and maybe it was time to go to bed to get up bright and early for the conference.
