As the rain started pattering on the aeroplane’s window, I knew I was back home. I just wanted to grab England in a gentle headlock and ruffle its hair in delight. The flight began and ended on time; not without a few tense moments, mind. Namely, the astonishingly troublesome turbulence as we set off; the terrorisingly close path over New Orleans right in the middle of the Super Bowl, just after hearing of its high security alert as a potential terrorist target; and of course the pilot uttering, “and to our left you can see the now infamously changed New York skyline” as another bout of turbulence kicks in for laughs. I felt like an iceberg waiting for the Titanic. But here I am, still amazed at the sight of twinkling city lights in the night sky 10,000 feet below, and the shooting star that looked for all the world like a stray missile. Now, I really must get some sleep – 31 hours is a long time to be awake in anyone’s book…