Well, this is the first time I have updated this blog from a different country though I am so tired and confused I'm struggling to remember which country I'm actually in. On Tuesday I arrived in New Zealand and flew out again on Friday night - a long way to go for 3 nights. It really freaks me out that, having spent an entire night on a plane, I arrived in San Francisco 7 hours before I left Auckland. Which is just as well. I was so tired and hungover on Friday that my friend in NZ pointed out that I would at least get another shot at the day and indeed I did. This week I may have completely lost Monday, but I've had two Fridays. Kerryn, if you're reading this I'm so sorry. Next time I see you I'll take some talking pills. I feel very bad that I turned up for our annual catch up and then said barely more than three words to you before falling asleep in your car.
San Francisco was another first and so was the fact that I was exploring and staying in a new city on my own. How liberating. I would heartily recommend it to anyone - no arguing over which sights to see, which bar to sit in, when to eat, what to eat. You get my drift. The only downside is not having a man by your side in the evening. Well, not having the man you want by your side anyway. When you're a girl on your own and you sit at a bar and order a drink and it becomes clear that you're not waiting for anyone, you start to feel eyes boring into your back and you're convinced that everyone thinks you're a lady of negotiable affection. I know I'm skint after buying the athletics ticket but thank god I wasn't offered $50, or worse, less.
"How much, love?"
San Francisco is my new favourite city. I think I saw pretty much everything during a three hour walk. Union Square (flashy), Fisherman's Wharf (trashy), Alcatraz (bleak) , cable cars (steep), Lombard St of Steve McQueen fame (twisty). Everything, that is, except the Golden Gate Bridge (misty). Which means I shall have to go back.
LA is a different kettle of fish though. Not that I've seen anything other than the airport and I don't have much desire to. The people are less friendly and seem to take pleasure in sending you on a wild goose chase. It's a good job I have 5 hours between flights because it took me almost that long to find the international departures. On getting off a domestic flight I was told to exit the airport and get on the shuttle bus for Air New Zealand. First I missed one then half an hour later the next one arrived. After 20 minutes it dropped me off. That's strange I thought. I know I'm tired but this all looks vaguely familiar. It had done a massive loop of the airport and dropped me off where I'd got on. International Departures was one floor up from Domestic Arrivals. Hey Ho.
And so, back to Blighty. Tired, emotional, missed the ankle biters and a whole week of training and not looking forward to the rain. It's bound to be raining - it's a bank holiday.