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So the action begins here. Day one of my latest trip to America. It's been too long since I was stateside, this trip is overdue.

Like any other American adventure it started in a rather soggy [Manchester] airport. This time my flight was at a far more sensible hour of 10:50 in the morning, and not the usual 8:00 or something equally as offensive. Traffic on the way to the airport wasn't great but I didn't care, in a matter of hours I'd be in America, and so as far as I was concerned it could have rained as hard as it liked.

The Delta flight was just like all the other Delta flights I have been on in recent years. The seats were crammed into the plane in a way that only just allows anyone not in possession of a first class ticket, enough room to put their feet in front of them. The thought of maybe crossing your legs or any such luxury on this flight are soon given up. But I suppose I couldn't have expected anything more for a flight that set me back just over three hundred pounds.

After take off we were served the usual 'snacks' then later the standard menu of Chicken or beef. I always go for the chicken because it does at least bear some resemblance to the common dish of the same name. The cake served as dessert was as pitiful as ever, and just as in all the other Delta flights I ate it because hunger drives you past any reservations you might have about the worthiness of this so called 'pudding'.

'The Talented Mr Ripley' was the inflight movie, not a bad film from what I saw. But really, it would be nice if at some stage Delta could provide headphones that were a little more ear friendly. After just half an hour of wearing the damn things, you are forced to try and adopt new and interesting ways of wearing them so as they don't irritate you. A quick glance around the plane is often a great way to see the most popular 'comfortable' position for these things, if it is indeed possible to call any position they are worn in, comfortable.

Several hours later I arrive in JFK. Then I am told that my flight to Boston has been canceled and we are now flying to Boston on a shuttle flight from La Guardia airport. A bus takes us there and I jump on the first plane out. By 4:30PM Boston time, I am looking for my baggage, hoping that the suitcase which revealed a few battle scars whilst I was at Manchester, hasn't deposited my underwear all over the conveyer belt for the entire airport to inspect. I had already made the decision that if it had, I would abandon the estranged items and carry on as if they weren't mine. However, in the end the case has stood up to another transatlantic hop admirably.

Anne wasn't at the airport to greet me. Some mix up with the new arrival time had meant that Anne was now not expecting me for another 4 hours, and in hindsight she wasn't far wrong. Even though her and Erin left that second to meet me at the airport, they ended up going to the wrong terminal and after nearly 3 hours of confusion and waiting, we eventually found each other through a freak coincidence in the time we chose to place a page for one another.

The weather in this part of the world doesn't seem very different to the weather I was pleased to leave behind in Manchester, but the weather is forecast to improve early next week, and as today is Thursday I can deal with that no problem. All in all it was a good journey, and now from my home base in Salem, at Anne and Erin's apartment, I will get on with the serious business of having a vacation, and at the same time broadcasting the highlights to the world.

It's a hard life, really it is.

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