In a bit England.

So, here I am on the eve of the voyage. I am a complex combination of nerves and excitement. Everything is in order; I have all the necessary gear. In fact, I think that I have too much equipment for my level of experience - turning up in a brand new sailing jacket, brandishing my Leatherman, with my head torch set to 'blink' might be a bit much. The phrase 'all the gear, no idea' springs to mind. I'm just glad that I managed to talk my Dad out of buying me a spork - I would have looked like a right prick sat there eating with a plastic spoon-fork hybrid whilst the others ate with cutlery.

I hope that I enjoy my travels half as much as I have enjoyed talking about them. No one has been spared a casual reference to the trip. I even told the attractive shop assistant in the sailing shop just because she asked me what type of sailing it was that I would be doing. She was momentarily impressed, that is until my mum unleashed a barrage of questions about the different levels of waterproofing. There is a lesson to be learned here; don't go shopping for cool shit with your mum, it doesn't work. I have to admit though, I have taken great pleasure in peoples' reactions, the only problem is that I have spent so long talking about the bloody thing, I now have to go and do it!

All the other lads are out there already. James and Jack have been there for a week so I am just hoping that there is still a boat to board when I arrive. I'm almost positive that Jack won't have got himself arrested in the space of a week, although you can never be sure with him. Blair, Sam and Chris flew out over the weekend, so that just leaves me. I am actually quite looking forward to the flight; I'm flying BA so I'm expecting good things. Although, no matter who you fly with these days, you are guaranteed at least one child aged six months or less within earshot. There is nothing quite like the screech of a child whose ears have not equalised to help you relax into your eleven hour flight. But, then again, why shouldn't a child who is too young to form memories see a bit of the world? I also cannot wait for the possible humiliation of the full body scan at Heathrow; a room full of strangers analysing your naked profile is bound to ease you into your flight. As if that was not enough, once I have sat in what can only be described as the stress position,with my knees in constant contact with the chair in front, I then have the pleasure of being interrogated by US immigration. So, actually, on reflection, I am not looking forward to my flight. On paper, it bares striking resemblance to torture. I am more of a Business Class kind of guy. I am hoping that this is obvious to the person checking me in so that they can give me the upgrade I deserve.

Well, the next time you guys hear from me, I will be in the City of Angels. Until then, pray for me.