Off we go to the States again. Up to Victoria where I popped into the drop in medical centre to get some more antibiotics -- and blagged some emergency anti hysteria pills for the flight. Absolutely no queue and walked straight into see the doctor.

Then off to Heathrow, arrived in plenty of time. Got a window seat with legroom too near the wing, which was a distinct improvement. Flight not too bad. No drugs or drink needed. Boredom allowed to leak through the usual existential angst. Watched a stupid film about a 40-year old virgin which nevertheless made me laugh. Find that on planes the only thing I can tolerate is comedies -- and nothing with fiery explosions please. Got chatting to the Spanish stewardess who sat opposite me on landing, I told her about the extraordinary circumstances surrounding my trip and she told me about the delights of Madrid.

One of my cases trashed en route.

Baltimore airport seemed to be deserted. Nobody at the single information desk. No taxi to be had. Opted for the Baltimore Light Railway. Rather alarming journey, being the only passenger from the airport and travelling through the arse end of nowhere to get to the city centre. Dark little stations and the train filling up with purposeful-looking urban youth.

Got out of the train dragging my broken luggage. I was lost.

Stopped a cab. Turns out I was about 200 yards away from where I needed to be. The Angelic Nigerian driver drove me there anyway and charged me nothing.

Hotel not too bad. Went downstairs for a crab burger and fries and a brace of beers. Then sleep, merciful sleep.