Here in the screaming children section of British Airways flight # 2225 to Houston with Kate Winslow running wild-eyed down the halls of the Titanic looking for a way to free Leonardo and the child in the row just ahead of me throwing her 13th tantrum since the flight commenced and Vivaldi on my headphones doing a miserable job of making it all go away, it is not an easy task to reflect on my journey and reach any sweeping conclusions. It's not my job, anyway but it just feels like this narrative needs some sort of conclusion.

Ever since I was old enough to study European history and culture I have wanted to visit this part of the world. So many times it seems that we become the vicitms of our own anticipation and that the reality of a fantasy fulfilled turns out to be a big fat let down. But I am here to tell you that I was utterly entranced by Big Ben and mind-blown by the canals of Venice. The view of Paris from my cheap hotel window was an utter delight and the forests of Ireland every bit as mystical as I had hoped they would be. The Alps will never be just another mountain range for me and - perhaps most surprisingly of all - I got totally caught up in futball fever along with the rest of Europe...

If I had it all to do again I do believe I would do it all the same way.... only with more money. Russell was an excellent travel companion - flexible, competent and as cheerful as the day was long - and I am convinced I could not have had half as much fun traveling by myself or even with someone/anyone else.

It would have been fun to spend more time in the places that we stopped and I do regret not getting to see Rome -- but Massimo and Francesco have suggested they may be willing to bring me back to next year's contest (they even want Russell to come back!) so with any luck we will get to discover Rome this time next year.

Cute isn't he? Well not if he is sitting right in front of you on a 10 hour flight. No sleep for me, thanks to a little Italian kid and his even naughtier little sister...