Landed in one piece. Actually, five pieces.

Berit:  Wouldn't it be cool if one of the actors from Harry Potter lives in the house next door to where we're staying?!

Griffin:  If I see Hagrid coming out to the mailbox, I'll be like "Watchoo doin' Hagrid!"

The flight to London is like a nine hour stay in a very small hotel room with your choice of movies on a four inch screen and bad miniature food. You sleep sitting up while the teenage girl acros the aisle casts a constant glow from her iPad onto your face.

Everybody's a little cranky after the plane ride and subsequent hours in the airport and then on the road South, but we get here and wrap up the night with a trip to the Tesco, a Walmart-esque grocery (promised to help Pam find the small store with green food tomorrow) for supplies and then to West Wittering Beach where we show up at 8:30 pm, just as they're closing the parking lot gate. The kids spend a few minutes crazy diving into the waves before it's time to freeze-walk back to the car.

I sleep the sleep of the dead. Dream I am living with Pete Townshend.