Megabus redeemed themselves for my final trip: they were on time, the driver knew where she was going, and we arrived in Boston only 45 minutes late.

Alas the journey wasn't perfect, but this time because of the passengers rather than the company. I decided to sit on the lower level for a change, but this put me on the opposite side of the isle to a bald man with a ponytail. This would be fine except for the fact that he chose this journey to eat nuts the whole way, not just eating them as a well-mannered person would, but throwing them into his mouth, every one, and then smacking his lips with each chew. Splendid. It might have been okay if he'd only had a small packet, but no, he had a kilo.

I put on my headphones to drown out the smacking, which worked brilliantly as I fell asleep for an hour. He was still throwing and chewing away when I woke up. What can you expect from a stickleback with a rat tail though?

To top off a relatively good journey I pulled away from my seat to pick up my dropped phone and found that I was still attached to the seat, by chewing gum. Did I already use splendid?

Some grotty person had put it on the seatbelt next to me, so I'd unwittingly had my freshly washed pink hoody attached to it the whole journey. I wasn't too pleased to find no amount of picking would get it off either. I know ice is the best thing, but where do I find ice in a hostel? Maybe it's fate's way of telling me my £10 hoody has done its time and needs to retire. Maybe.

I got off the bus into the mild Bostonian night and managed to get myself lost for thirty-five minutes. Not a brilliant idea when you've got three bags on the go, and my roller bag kept on tipping to one side. I finally arrived at the hostel, glowing and in my chewing gum-ridden top at 6ish and headed straight to the shower. A cold shower for the first five minutes, and nothing like the luxury of Lorne Park even when it warmed up, but I suppose it wouldn't do to have luxury just before home: I might not go back.