Saturday, May 12. Though this was one of the best overseas flights I’ve experienced, and Virgin Atlantic has got to be my favorite airline, I still couldn’t sleep on that plane. If I slept a half-hour throughout the night I would be very surprised. We landed early in the morning. Since I didn’t want to arrive at the hotel too early and have to wait for a room to become available, and because the taxi from the airport was very expensive, I decided to be adventurous and see if I could negotiate the very complex London underground (subway) to get as close as I could to The Grove hotel. I was proud of myself; I had to make four different switches and I only got lost once when at one point I mistakenly got onto the Piccadilly line instead of the Metropolitan line (which came on the same track). I still had to take a taxi the rest of the way, but it wasn’t too bad from Watford. I probably mentioned last year that The Grove hotel is one of the most beautiful hotels in the world. I learned that Obama and Tiger Woods had even stayed here, and that the reason we cannot stay here beyond Saturday night this time is because Google is renting the entire hotel for a conference. I decided to go to the spa first thing after I checked in to take a swim, hoping that would wake me up a little. But the pool was full of elderly ladies taking a water aerobics class, so to kill a little time I went to the large exercise room and lifted a few weights—I really don’t like gyms—and took a steam bath. When the class ended I took my half-hour swim in their long, beautiful pool, then jumped into the Jacuzzi, then the sauna. Just what my body needed after that long plane ride. By this time it was time for lunch. By the end of that gluttonous, fancy, delicious buffet meal, where I pigged out, I wanted to then take a walk around the beautiful grounds, but I was way too tired. I hoped I wouldn’t bump into anyone I knew yet, because a veil of fog had come over my entire being and I felt virtually nonfunctional. I don’t like the idea of taking a nap when trying to adjust to a different time zone; the only way to adjust I have found is to force oneself to stay awake until it’s time to go to bed in the new time zone, but this time I had no choice; I couldn’t keep my eyes open. So I set my alarm clock for one hour. I almost couldn’t wake up but I forced myself to. I was excited to take my walk, but now it was raining hard, so I couldn’t. I still was in a fog for the dinner buffet, where I was kinder to my stomach, and sat near Mark Howard, Judy Banks and Chris Heath, then as I was walking out the door I chatted a bit with George and Dicken; it was good to see them all, but still felt really out of it, so I couldn’t wait to get back up to my room. I packed up because we’re leaving early the next morning, and went to bed by 9:00.