Here we are in sunny California. The eleven hour flight wasn’t as bad as I’d imagined, although five hours in Charlie started to go crazy and deranged, asking when we were getting off every two minutes. When he finally did go to sleep it was to my great, great relief. After being cooped up all that time we were ecstatic to get off the plane.

US Customs was awful. We walked up to the desk when it was our turn and the mean looking immigrations officer started asking Charlie a lot of questions. Bearing in mind that he has that five year olds' habit of answering however he fancies and talking a lot of nonsense, this was a bit hairy. This is the kid who told my dad I’d thrown him down the stairs, left him in the dark on his own, and gone out to the pub all night. Not true: I came back at 4am (joke).

Anyway, the guy said hello and asked me who I was travelling with. Then he turned to Charlie, swinging his bag beside me. “Is this your mom?” Charlie hesitated. I waited for him to say ‘nah’ or something similar. Luckily, he nodded, but the questions continued.

Then we got hauled off for apparently trying to smuggle a bag of squashed grapes into the country.

We stayed in Redondo Beach near Los Angeles the first night then drove along the coast through Malibu to Ventura, where we’re staying. Whenever we’re somewhere good, Charlie always asks me if we can go to the soft play, and it cracks me up. I was dying for him to ask me if we could go to the soft play in Malibu- that would’ve taken the biscuit.

Today is Martin Luther King day in America and we went to a huge park near Hollywood which was full of LA families with their tough-looking little kids. I’m sure my son wondered what the fuss was about when his mum started squealing and pointing at a load of white letters stuck on the hillside on the way.

Being from Northern England, we don’t cope too well in the heat- and it’s winter time over here! It was a relief to escape the nightmareish traffic around LA and get back down to the coast.

The only thing that would pacify Charlie on the way back was a vat of chocolate ice-cream in this great Jewish place, Jerry’s Deli, on the way back. America doesn’t seem to do ice-cream vans; can you believe that? They must be the one thing they don’t have over here.