We're back — though most of our luggage is still somewhere over the Pacific, having mysteriously failed to board the same flight as us out of Sydney. Miraculously, one of our cases made it, but not the one that has my camera packed in it, so no pics for you.
Then we had a row with the rental car people in LA who wanted to charge us a whopping $149 to hire a car at LAX and drive to San Diego, when last Wednesday we paid $59 with the same firm to do the exact same drive the other way. One of the desk people said the price had "gone up" because it was "peak season". We scoffed. Another said "we don't have enough cars left, so the one you want will cost more". We stared in disbelief. They make it up as they go along. Eventually we had to settle for the fee of $100, and frankly, after almost 24 hours travelling, with a two-hour drive still to come, we were too stuffed to put up any more of a fight.
At home, though we had given Will two days' notice of our return, and called him from the airport to let him have another two or three hours to prepare, the place was a tip. So that's not standing a certain youth in good stead for mature, independent life in a new city.
But the sun's shining, the dogs look well and healthy, no-one has slept in our lovely big bed (they wouldn't bloody dare) and I'm out of my travelling clothes and off now for a long shower.
I've got lots of reading in blogland to catch up on as well!