Heading home via Dallas Fort Worth...

It was time to head home. After another hearty Sheraton breakfast – fresh fruit, porridge, yoghurt, croissant, scrambled egg and sausage plus a cup of tea – I had just a few hours left in Memphis to do some shopping. I decided to throw caution to the wind and head for Beale Street on foot. I simply couldn't believe the two people who, earlier in the week, had told me that I needed to watch my back during the day and night. One of these people was a taxi driver – drumming up business for himself, perhaps, and the other one was a guest in the hotel, who was slightly more believable as he didn't have a monetary reason for me not walking around town.

Just part of my final hearty and healthy Sheraton breakfast

All that said, I checked out the relative safety or otherwise of Memphis and, in short, it's not that safe, you do have to keep your wits about you and you certainly shouldn't go out displaying anything expensive or flashing cash around. So I put on my jeans and a tee shirt and a leather jacket and off I went, not that I was leaving back any expensive, trendy clothes, I don't have anything of that ilk.

I followed the route of the trolley buses and then turned left, heading for Second Street and finding myself – finally – on the famous Beale Street. I bought a couple of 'Memphis' teeshirts and a baseball cap from Strange Cargo and then found Schwab's where I enjoyed a peanut butter and sliced banana sandwich, toasted, plus a coffee. The sandwich is said to be Elvis Presley's favourite. It was nice, although toasting it seemed to make the peanut butter thicker and more gloopy, but either way it filled a hole and soon I marched back to the hotel, checked out and took a cab to the airport.

Sheraton Memphis Downtown from Second Street

It costs around $40.00 to take a cab to Memphis airport from downtown and it's probably the only way of getting there. My driver and I talked about Trump. Nothing positive was said. He told me he was thinking of going abroad for a holiday but was worried that Trump wouldn't let him back in. We laughed, but he was being serious – albeit in a jokey fashion.

The airport was much busier than when I arrived on Tuesday night (when it was all but deserted). I had to queue for security, but once through there wasn't much time before boarding the plane.

I sat at the very back, seat 27F, and when we took off, in the driving rain, it was fairly bumpy. There was even a visible strike of lightning, but after a while everything settled down and there were clearer skies as we approached Dallas.

"Dinner" close to gate D10 at Dallas Fort Worth

The flight to London was from Gate D10 and there was no more security to go through, but I did remember from the last time I was here that I must report to the gate for a document check, which I did. Next to the gate was a snack bar offering a range of baguettes so I chose one, ordered a couple of glasses of Cabernet and then read more of 1984, my current book. Soon it was time to board the British Airways jumbo jet (perfect, I thought). I had an aisle seat in the cabin next to what looked like 'business' class. Once the doors of the plane had closed I noticed that there was a spare business class seat and decided it was worth asking whether I could sit there. The answer was no and this, I must admit, angered me somewhat. I mean 'billiard ball in a sock' angry. I sat there quietly fuming. Why couldn't somebody sit there? It wasn't as if they were going to make any money out of the seat. I was so angry I started to pen something on the 'notes' app on my iPhone. You will be able to read the entire text in the next post on this blog just as soon as I copy type it.

Anyway, I reached Heathrow at around 0900hrs on Saturday 28th October, took a taxi home and then chilled for most of the day.

Today, Sunday morning, I awoke feeling dizzy and by that I mean really dizzy, frighteningly dizzy. So dizzy I couldn't get up. To say I was worried was an understatement. At the time of writing I still don't know what is wrong but I reckon it's jet lag-related, probably involves a bit of dehydration and just a spot, perhaps, of overdoing things. I flew out of London on Tuesday for Memphis (two flights) then I drove to Osceola, Arkansas, and back, and then I flew Memphis-Dallas/Dallas London. I should have made it a more leisurely trip, but I didn't. Anyway, I'm going to the doctor in a few moments to see what they have to say. I managed to get out of bed and I can stand upright and write this blog, as I'm doing right this minute, so hopefully it's nothing major.

In Dallas...Fort Worth

The flight from Nashville to Dallas was pleasant, although I felt at one stage prior to take-off that the plane might disintegrate before it reached the runway. The American Airlines plane, probably a Boeing or an Airbus, I never looked, shuddered on every turn and squeaked and clanked its way to the strip but eventually took off without incident and I later enjoyed a cup of tea and a small bag of mini pretzels mid-flight. Around one hour and 40 minutes later we started our smooth descent into Dallas Fort Worth, through the cloud and on to the tarmac. I took the Skylink to terminal D and now I'm close to gate D15 from where I'll depart this great country en route to London Heathrow Terminal Five.

We had some rain last night in Nashville, but guess what? It was warm rain. Never experienced that before. I was in the Tailgate Brewery enjoying the old Peanut Butter Milk Stout and as I left and headed back to my hotel down came the rain. The warm rain. It was hot in Nashville. The temperature reached the early eighties, but finally the weather broke and it rained quite heavily through the night.

Inside Pizza Vino at Dallas Forth Worth airport, 

In the morning the roads were damp but there was a freshness in the air as I walked down to Barista Parlor for breakfast. But you know all about that – see previous post if you don't. Here at Dallas Fort Worth airport I've just had a late lunch of a pizza and a Cabernet, all very nice, but slightly off kilter. The place, Pizza Vino, was billing itself as an upmarket pizza restaurant – I had to take an elevator ride to reach it – so my expectations were high, but unfortunately they were dashed on the rocks of crap. For a start there were tables that needed a wipe-down, there were napkins left on the floor, there were laminated menus and to make matters worse, for some reason they didn't price their drinks. This annoyed me. I ordered a cabernet, assuming the price would be reasonable, but when I came to order another one (the pizza – proscuitto and ham – took an age to arrive and I was bored) I thought I'd ask how much. I was told $14. That's a lot of money for a glass of wine, even if it did arrive in a little glass carafe.

Oddly, my bill was only around $30. So I gave the obligatory tip, chewed the fat with the waiter, a really nice guy, who told me that to drive from Dallas to where his folks live takes 12 hours – and they live in Texas! Last night somebody told me that Texas was the second biggest state in the USA, next to Alaska. Imagine that, though, to get home by car takes 12 hours and you don't even cross a state line.

I'm not too far from the gate and I've found a power point, otherwise I wouldn't be writing this, but I felt it was important to write something from Dallas. I've got about 30 minutes before it's time to board and then I've got a nine-hour flight to look forward to; I can't say I'm happy about that, but what else can I do?

The television is screening something about Trump and the firing of FBI director Comey, but hold on, somebody's called my name over the airport intercom, that's the second time. I'd better go and see what they want. Nothing else to report anyway, I'm just sitting here. Outside it's blue skies and cloud and people are milling around as they do at airports. I'd better go, see you back in the UK.

I post a lot of hotel and restaurant reviews on Trip Advisor, which can be found by clicking here.