I was a bit worried about Matt Smith. After two young Doctors, I was hoping for someone a bit older, and the 'new unknown' angle did seem to suggest that budget cuts meant they couldn't secure the services of Chiwetel Ejiofor. Plus, come on, that forehead. So, I approached the new series with a little trepidation, my fears somewhat salved by the hoots of from Doctor/Rose 'shippers whining about the evil Moffat replacing their beloved Doctor (and not being too keen on the relationship either).

Of course, my personal life intervened with the first episode; when it aired in Britain, I was on my honeymoon donning a cape in Brooklyn's Superhero Supply Store and eating The Greatest Sandwich Known To Mankind. But I downloaded a copy of The Eleventh Hour and it sat on my MacBook, and then my iPad, waiting until the flight back to Britain to actually watch it.

About an hour into flight AA174, I watched the beginning of the Moffat Era. An hour later, I had a huge grin on my face - all my worries about Smith faded away within the first five minutes; a strange, ambling, gangly, cranky, goofy boy that somehow manages to look nine hundred years old despite being the youngest actor to play The Doctor. And Amelia Pond! The duck pond without any ducks! "Basically…run." Let me tell you, there's no better way to come back to Britain.

And now, in a few hours, I'll be watching what's quite possibly the last episode of Doctor Who I'll see in this country for quite a while. Next year, I'll be fiddling with VPNs and attempting to get iPlayer working from American shores, but tonight, it's the last time on the sofa. It's been a very different series from the last four years, an emphasis on plots over Russell's insistence of character beats, which has led to claims that Amy is little more than a cipher. Still, I'd say Amy's Choice was more affecting than any of Rose's overwrought emotional arcs, and The Lodger managed to make me stop wanting to punch James Cordon's face for 50 minutes, a feat previously thought impossible by modern science.

Having said all that, Chris Chibnall needs to be sent to the moon and only let out to write Law & Order UK episodes. How he managed to make the return of the Silurians boring, I still don't know. And yes, Victory of The Daleks was a bit underwhelming, but was completely redeemed by "WOULD-YOU-LIKE-A-CUP-OF-TEA?".

I don't know what's going to happen tonight; The Pandorica Opens was everything a RTD finale was not; slow-building, intricately-plotted, and leaving us all with the sense of "how on earth is he going to get out of that?" in the finale minute. We've spent all week talking about the final episode tonight - just who or what is Amy Pond? Why are there no ducks? Are there really two Doctors floating in time, or was it just a silly continuity error? What *did* the Doctor say to Amelia Pond when she was seven years old? Is it important that we've never seen any of her relatives this series, in sharp contrast to the past four years? Where can I get a bow-tie like that?

So, tonight: another good-bye to Britain. With a mad old man and his impossible box. I can only hope for a few shots of the TARDIS flying through a gasometer!