Home again

Hooray! I'm an Englishman in New Orleans again. People have been badgering me to keep up my blog, but 'An Englishman in London' doesn't have the same stranger-in-a-strange-land ring to it.

As we entered the country yesterday afternoon, there was an eerie sense of déjà vu. In July 2007, as I reported earlier, Pam and I arrived in Philadelphia and had a two-hour encounter with a rude immigration official who threatened to send me back to England.

This time we landed in Philly again, and again I was sent off to the same room for secondary screening, two words that strike despond into the heart of any visitor to the States.

But the experience could not have been more different. The official scanned my file silently for a couple of minutes, a smile on his face. Then he said: 'Wow, that's an amazing story. ' He briskly stamped my passport, said 'Welcome to the United States, and good luck with your marriage'.

Did I mention we're getting married on September 20? We want a small, simple beach wedding, and we've decided on Puerto Rico because I'm not allowed to leave the country until about December. There will be six adults and two children in attendance.

It's good to be back in Spain Street, but the best thing about it is the garden. When I left in November, I planted two little banana trees about four feet high, salvaged from the neighbours' garden before it was demolished.

Today, after eight months of blanketing rain and heat, the taller one stands at around fourteen feet. The garden we created out of nothing is a jungle, in the nicest sense of the word: it looks like it's been there for decades.

Tomorrow we're off to Little Rock, Arkansas, to meet Pam's new granddaughter Arden. Then we're going to Eureka Springs, also in Arkansas, for the annual reunion of my new family. I went last year, and it was a baptism of fire which I wouldn't have missed for anything. After that, we have to settle down and do some work to pay for all our travels.