California revisited: read my latest travel piece in The Spectator

"In 1982, aged 15 I boarded my first plane and flew to meet my father and step family in Los Angeles. I never forgot that trip: sleeping in a car in Death Valley, smuggled into motels in LA, walking through Tijuana street markets and squatting in San Francisco when Freddie Laker went bust.

Now my wife Lynda and I have decided to take our children – Daughter, 13, and Son, 10 – on an even more epic journey. Already we’ve taken in Toronto and Niagara Falls, watched the Yankees with hot dogs, eaten at ‘Cake Boss’ Carlo’s Hoboken bakery, farted in the UN security council, melted in Vegas, hunted aliens at Area 51 and been dumb-struck by the Grand Canyon before reaching San Diego..."