Just a week ago, I had no idea I’d be doing this. I’m still shocked that this opportunity came my way and have learnt a lot from it.

Until a recent revelation, I hadn’t realised my DJ friend Martin, whom I’ve known for some time now, is also the pianist for Marc Almond. We chatted about it and he invited me to come along to one of their gigs in Birmingham. The musicians and engineers he worked with were willing to put up with me for a little bit and I could come along and help with the sound. Watch and learn, Pete. Watch and learn.

But watching and learning turned into getting hands on experience. I’ve spent a lot of time on the kit I was using but just not in a “live music” setting. In this situation, you have to get it right first time: you can’t go back and say “Can we try that again, please?” There’s a lot of pressure.

End of week one and I’m starting to feel comfortable in this place. It is so different from life back in the UK that I shall not try too hard to make a comparison. Chalk and cheese.

It’s damned hot but pleasantly so. Especially when you are fortunate enough to be staying in a huge, wonderfully equipped, modern house with air-conditioning. You step out of your cool house into a chilled car before entering your air-conditioned shopping mall. Only briefly are you ever forced to brave the extreme heat outside. But sometimes I choose to.

For a week, I’ve been settling into my aunt and uncle’s place. You could fit my own house back in the UK into it at least four times. It’s in the middle of nowhere sat in its own grounds, yet it has fast broadband, water, cable tv, in short, everything you’d want at home and more. It’s a very pleasant way to live, and I’m trying not to get too used to it.

My uncle was kind enough to pay me to come over, and in return, I’m looking after his two daughters. And in that there’s a long story, but I won’t bore you with specifics. Until this week, I’d never met my aunt or my two almost grown nieces. I now love them to bits and have bonded with them all – part of my family which I’ve missed out on in the past twelve years or so.

I have been given a truck to ferry the girls around in but this also means that I have the flexibility to travel around by myself, and I am now ready to start doing just that.

If you hadn’t noticed, I’ve become a parkour nut this past year. I take every opportunity to train and practise. The USA is no exception: before I left the country, I’d arranged to hook up with a load of american traceurs. We jammed in Chapel Hill today and I must say I’m impressed with the people and the places. This town was almost built for parkour! The whole of UNC (The University of North Carolina) is one huge concrete playground and boy did we play. Despite my injured knee, I did stuff I’d never thought to try, spurred on by people who are more obsessed with questions like “how can we have fun?” rather than “is this parkour?”

We went running across the rooftops of the city, as this was meant to be, hopping from wall to wall and under and over rails and gardens – not a security guard in sight to chase us away. Bliss! These lads put the fun back into it – it’s not illegal, ya know! – and I learnt new techniques and made a few new friends.

I will be sore tomorrow, but that’s the price I’m used to paying, by now.

It is less than two weeks until I board my flight for the States. It’s only just sinking in and I’m starting to get excited. Since Uncle Peter made the phone call to ask me to visit about four months ago, I’ve been laying my plans.