I vomit upon your city.

In Guildford.

Ended my time in Los Angeles by vomiting upon it (Mats made me drink too much the night before at fake english pub, 'Pickwicks' in the Valley). Also coughed up a load of bile a couple of times at LAX and became fearful that I would spend 10h on a plane doing that every half hour; however slept on the LAX->San Francisco leg and got all better.

Before landing at SFO, the plane flew right over the city -- I got a few airbourne pictures of the big red bridge...

When I got to Heathrow, it turned out that my checked-in bag had not made the connection in San Francisco; assuming that they deliver it to my parents house sometime in the next few days, this is actually quite convenient, as it gave me much less to carry on my arduous public transport adventure from LHR to their house (bus to Woking... train to Guildford... walk into town centre... bus to Merrow)

Snowing here, which is rare; melting as soon as it hits the ground, though.

I sat on the train and bus listening to the surrey dialect and trying not to laugh...