Dipping my toes into international waters

My flight leaves in about 3 hours. I'm waiting idly by for a town car (fingers crossed for the occasional oversight that leads to the white stretch limo pulling up outside my apartment dragging tin cans with a big 'just married' sign in the window). Half of the crew has gone ahead a few days early, and have reported that the weather is amazing. I'll be reporting that they don't get out of the house often enough because I know that the jet lag stings like a slap to the face and the thought of eating soft cheese and stale bread for 3 weeks turns my stomach inside out. Come on in, the water's fine.