Well, how does one follow Spykergyrl? I’m the Brit, he of the knobbly knees and quizzical disposition. Inspired by the Spyke-meister, I thought I’d reminisce about my first trip to the US, back in the mid eighties (cue wavy lines and time-travelly harp music).

I’d split up with a girlfriend and was talking on the phone to a student friend we’d both met, who was now back in Green Bay, Wisconsin. “Gee,” she said, “I wish you could come over.” (People still said ‘Gee,’ back then.) There and then my mind was made up.

I flew to Chicago about 12 weeks later in mid December, the multi-coloured spread of the city at night made it all look like magic land. Plus, it was snowing. After a round of twenty questions and ‘feel my scowl, the INS welcomed me with open disdain. I was just so happy to be there that I brushed it off and went off to catch my connecting flight to Milwaukee.

My student friend was there at arrivals – I think hardly anyone was on the flight. She’d changed a little since I last saw her – the pink Mohawk was a bit of a giveaway.

Things I learned on that 8-day field trip:

1) It’s one thing to see -25 degrees on an airport weather report and another thing entirely to have it slicing through your bones. It turns out that winter in the Midwest is unbelievably COLD. The people, on the other hand, were incredibly WARM. One or two of them were HOT.

2) People really do believe television. I was disappointed not to see Potsy and Ralph Mouth at the airport; conversely, a guy really asked me if the streets of London were foggy all the time. Sure, I said, never one to shatter someone’s dreams.

3) Being exotic can be a pain. The Midwest in the 80s was no place for a vegetarian. And there’s only so many times that people asking you to just ‘say something’ so they can hear your accent can be construed as amusing.

4) There’s lots to learn about. Gomer Pyle, for one. Twice a day, everyday. None of the Native American names were pronounceable. I know this because my friends made me try them out at every opportunity. When you go to a party and you need the bathroom, just because it’s not locked doesn’t mean there isn’t somebody in there. And when someone says, “It’s cold here so we make our own entertainment,” they’re not talking about a whist drive. Snow and ice + car being driven fast = slidey car; if you’re a passenger, the best thing you can do is sleep.

5) Thank heaven for heated air. We hopped from store to store like baby birds looking for worms.

It was the best of times; it was the coldest of times. And the people there treated me like one of their own. Well, except for the INS.

*And as for the broad, that’s a different story.