DAY TWO
(or is it three?)

Well, here we are in sunny California, watching the wind whip through the palm trees, the rain hammering against the window. The ocean isn't even visible, and it's only a couple of hundred metres away.

Twelve hours in an aeroplane with the guy across the aisle releasing noxious fumes into the atmosphere at regular intervals. And if he wasn't trying to gas us from one end, he was snoring like a demented yak from the other.

And all to arrive in a rainstorm!

Fortunately I had my computer, and a socket in the armrest, so I was able to bury my head in my storyline for a few hours. That was after sleeping off an exhausting dinner with champagne, red wine and cognac. I'd had the hangover and got over it by the time we were over Greenland, and settled down to work as the winter wastes of the frozen Canadian north drifted slowly by beneath us.

It wasn't actually raining when we arrived - an hour late, delayed in Paris because they had to de-ice the plane. So the shock awaiting us wasn't immediately a weather one. We had been expecting to be picked up at LAX by Susie, our friend from Newport Beach with whom we are staying for the next couple of weeks.

Instead we were gobsmacked to be met by my smiling beau frere - La Patronne's brother. Who only happens to live in upstate New York, around 3000 miles away. Grinning from ear to ear, he said, "Just happened to be passing."

In fact he had booked a last minute flight to spend an extended weekend with us in California - an escape from the winter snow and ice in the north-east. Only to spend his one full day with us today in the rain!

Today was, however, Super Bowl Sunday, and we were invited to a Super Bowl party by Susie's neighbours, Rob and Linda. They have panoramic windows that look out over Balboa Island, and the ocean beyond. Spectacular. And by the end of the game, the sky had cleared enough to provide a magnificent watery widescreen sunset.

Sunset from Rob and Linda's house

Earlier we had indulged in our first Californian meal of fabulous seafood washed down with salt-rimmed margaritas. And at the party we were treated to Mexican chili, and corn bread, and chilled white wine.

The Super Bowl didn't mean much to me. It's the only game I've ever seen that can last half an hour with only two minutes to go! Apparently people only watch for the ads. Never mind, the company was good, and so was the food, even if I could barely keep my eyes open. Mid-afternoon here, the middle of the night back home.

And here I am now, nearly 11pm and wide awake. I feel a sleepless night coming on. Damned jetlag.

Where are those little pills...?