I've been travelling for seven months now and met nothing but friendly, polite and helpful people. But just to keep me on my toes and stop me adopting too rose-tinted a view of humanity, someone stole my precious free Sprint phone last night.

I dropped it in the back of a taxi, and wasn't overly worried because I thought someone would hand it in. When I phoned my number this morning, it was answered by a woman who told me very politely that I'd dialled a number in Atlanta by mistake. She was so convincing that I apologised and hung up.

But it didn't take me long to realise that she was lying, and the next time we spoke she told me to go fuck myself. So if any of you have had a rather strange call from my number, my apologies, and normal service will be resumed as soon as possible.

On a happier note, the Krewe du Vieux parade, in which I'm helping to pull a float, kicks off the Mardi Gras season tonight, Saturday. I'm really looking forward to it and Pam (who is a genius at making things) has created a mule headdress for me, complete with lifelike pointy ears and a yellow mane. She'll be looking stunning as a wild-west bar girl, in a costume she's made herself. So watch this space!