If Its Thursday it Must be Sleepless in Seattle

Thursday was a free day so Dave and I had some time to act like tourists and head into Seattle. Taking the ferry across the Puget Sound is a scenic, albeit bloody cold, way to arrive in the city, and we duly gawped at the amazing fish in the Pike Place Market, gurned at the original Starbucks, and then gazed out of the windows at the top of the Space Needle. By the time we got back to our hotel it was about 9 o'clock and we got the first inkling that Gig Harbor is not a major party town. All the restaurants in the vicinity of our hotel closed at 9PM. We even got kicked out of KFC 'cos it was closing time for crissakes. Despite the beneficial effects of the J-L-P I still managed very little sleep, waking up at about 3AM and being unable to sleep again.

Arrival: First Visit to the Sawyers

Wednesday night was the first visit to the Sawyer home. I explained that according to the J-L-P I needed to eat a large, high-carb dinner. When she finished rolling her eyes, Genevive generously offered to cook a meal for me at her parents house in Gig Harbor. This was very kind, and also allowed me to meet John and Terri Sawyer. However after me long journey, and starved of sleep, I was not at my most eloquent. Babbling incoherently about the J-L-P and my need to keep going until at least 10 o'clock, while staying alert with physical and mental stimulation. A couple of swiftly guzzled bottles of Guiness did nothing to ameliorate the situation. John and Terri responded to this situation in completely different ways. Terri smiled and nodded and tried her best to understand just what the heck I was going on about. John went to find his beer can chicken broiler to show me. Um. I know its an over-used expression but really... only in America.

In Which I Say Goodbye to my Family and Travel to the Far Side of the World.

The much anticipated trip to Seattle finally arrived, and after a tearful farewell at Cambridge train station on a dark and rainy Tuesday night, followed by a night in a grotty hotel in Horley I boarded my flight for Sea-Tac via Minneapolis. The outward journey was uneventful, bar one or two unsavoury incidents. While saying goodbye to my little family outside Cambridge station I was targetted by an aggressive beggar... when I failed to give any money he called me a c*8t. I was severely tempted to say some smartarse reply like "I wasn't going to give you any money, but now you've called me a c*8t, I can see your point. Here's a tenner" but wisely i held my tongue. I didn't want to get shivved before even starting the trip. To call my overnight stay hotel grotty is actually being extremely charitable to it... a brief inspection of the floor in the morning revealed a tube-map trace of silvery snail lines on the carpet. However it had two redeeming features, cheapness and proximity to Gatwick. The only other blogworthy event of the journey was inadvertantly caused by the Jet Lag Program (J-L-P). This is the method by which you can prepare your body for rapid adjustment to a new time zone by controlling diet, caffeine intake and initiating physical and mental activity at the correct time for the target time zone. Initially I was kind of sceptical about the whole thing and it seemed like a lot of faff, but I after I got on board with the program I quickly became a kind of J-L-P zealot, trying to convert new disciples to the cause at every turn. It was also be brilliant was of giving "Self 1" a trivial kind of activity to focus on during the build up to and duration of the journey, thus enabling "Self 2" to take control and direct the voyage in a natural and confident way. Anyway, I digress. One of the other tips on the program was to have two watches on board the plane, one with home time and one with destination time. This caused a bit of a stir at the security check going through Minneapolis-St Paul when I set off the (overly sensituve) metal detectors, and had to go for a more detailed search. The security guard was blunt, bald and gave the impression that he would not be taking any shit of anyone, least of all some weedy English dude. When he saw that I had two watches on he became very animated. "Hey, Dis guys got two watches on! Why have you got two watches on pal?" he asked, examining my wrists very closely. "Ahhh. That" I said... "Don't worry mate, Its just the jet-lag program... home time... destination time" I gesticulated at one wrist, then the other... "Keep your hands where I can see them buddy.... whaddaya, some kind of wise-guy?" After a bit more explanation, I finally managed to coax my way through, and the rest of my journey was uneventful. On the flight into Sea-Tac I put the final stage of the program into action by engaging in conversation with the person next to me... unfortunately she had been travelling for over 40 hours, thus completely trumping my pathetic 20 hours on the road. Bah, blumming competetive travellers. Arrival in Sea-Tac gratifyingly comfirmed the weather sterotype of the Pacific Northwest. Transalation: It was raining. Also conforming to sterotype was Dave, who was meeting me at baggage reclaim. He was late.

The Wedding Saga Starts Here

The next few posts recount the story of my trip to Seattle for the wedding of my good friend Mr Dave Males. Dave is a great guy, if a little, how can I put it, unconventional. I mean how many people do you know have wooed their girlfriend by recounting German poetry to her. Its not as if Germany is all the renowned for its poetry in the first place. That's like saying you're going to going to cook her a romantic English dinner, while listening to the great operatic tunes from Belgium. At times it was like being in a spoof wedding documentary, kind of a cross between Spinal Tap and 4 Weddings and a Funeral... in fact when the Males brothers we attempting to do knee slides across the dance floor late on Sunday, then a funeral seemed quite a likely prospect for the not too distant future. This is a story of much weirdness, a fair amount of swearing, and a few moments of pure comedy gold, to which I shall endeavor to do justice to.