I think it's important to note that the saying “Getting there is half the fun” was popularized before commercial air travel became widespread.
We rushed to get everything packed up Wednesday night and Thursday morning. Kit had a half-day of teaching so we picked her up from school and headed straight to SeaTac. We followed TSA advice to “arrive two hours in advance of your flight to allow adequate time for cavity searches,” getting to the airport well ahead of our flight.
Since we were early, there were no delays at security. We were soon sitting in our gate, waiting for our 3:00 flight. Then there was the announcement “Flight 316 will be delayed. We should have more information for you by 3:10.” Okay, if they don't even know how delayed it'll be by your original departure time, it's a bad sign.
We got onto the plane with a revised departure time of 4:05. Just as the stewardess completed the “Everyone turn off your phones or we'll plunge into the Pacific” speech she announced that the tower had changed our takeoff order and we'd be sitting there for 25 more minutes. There was a chorus of bleeps as everyone switched their phones back on.
Much turbulence later, we arrived in California and Trey was nice enough to pick us up at the airport, take us somewhere to get good food, and then dump us into his hot tub. That just about counteracted the wonderful fun of “getting there.”
It was technically Friday when we checked in. The receptionist was wearing a pair of ears which I took as a positive sign for the new hotel.
They apologized for not having a room with two beds but they put us in a room with a king so it wasn't too bad. No problem. Kit and I have a king bed at home so we know that one's large enough for us plus a toddler plus a big fluffy dog. Consulting our handy species volume conversion table, we figured that space is about equivalent to one Trey Cat or fourteen medium-sized rabbits or forty-two hamsters as long as they're not too rambunctious.
The next morning, by which I mean later the same morning, Kit went down and confirmed with the front desk the fact which we'd suspected. Our room had only a queen bed. Which explained the rather cramped night and the discovery by several members of the room that it is possible to grab a couple hours on the provided loveseat. (The trick is to curl up into a ball, rattie-style.)
So we switched rooms, went for breakfast, and then finally attempted to check into the con. We'd pre-registered so there wasn't much of a line. There was, however, a ton of cool furs standing around and just waiting to be chatted with. (I won't attempt to list all two dozen names. You know who you are.)
Finally sporting our badges, we wandered around for a while then hung out in Marko/Arokh/Red/Coyotoy's Room o' Fur and chatted while people sewed and got into and out of various suits.
That evening we went out for a very nice dinner. We save up and try to go out to a top-notch restaurant once a year. This time it was Alexander's Steakhouse. Delightful and very expensive but you're reminded of what gourmet dining is about.