Life from the other end of the world

Sometimes, just sometimes, you have to return to your country of origin, and in some cases, when it's not a funeral. The longer you're in Japan, the more enjoyment you experience everyday and the less you think about days gone by. But sometimes it's important, sometimes you have to go back and remind yourself and everyone else you think about them, and that they are important to you. And so, mid-May, I found myself on a fifteen hour flight to the UK. Over Alaska. Then Greenland. Then Scotland (I pointed the flight camera downward and experienced the expected, a view of cloud). Then London. Then four hours in a car.

It was interesting. Beer with a friend I haven't seen for forty two years but it felt like yesterday, local pub and the landlord said "nice to see you again after what, three years?" and so I had a beer and relaxed on the barstool. Ten days of UK rain and cold was enough and so reverse journey, Heathrow and the skies. But this time traveling east. I made the mistake of putting the sky map on and realised I was over the Caspian Sea, squeezed between Russia and Iran (for future readers, both countries at war with others just at the moment). Kind of wish I hadn't looked. But back home. What was 12C twenty four hours ago was now 24C as I stepped onto terra firma.

And now, having just released my jet lag in the UK, am back under its sticky tentacles in Japan. It'll be a few days but I've just slept until 4.00pm. Not a good start but I'll take it. And for anyone who thinks jet lag is just about sleep, it means you usually travel for the enjoyment. People used to think I have an amazing jet set lifestyle, reality, all I saw was the inside of airplanes, hotels rooms and sleepless nights staring at the ceiling. But this visit made me smile. And I got to go to The Cavern Club with my older brother. That was a good day. 

A funny thing, I talked the driver from Haneda to home in Japanese for thirty minutes. But when I got home he switched to perfect English. I laughed. And a thank you to James. He didn't make me go, but in a roundabout way reminded me why I should when I could. Thank you.

 

2025, a year in Japan

So how did the year go... Well, I have a friend in Tokyo who, earlier this year, managed to win the lottery for Oasis tickets at Wembley (London if you were wondering). That clearly meant a long flight and a few days back in the UK. And one of the greatest concerts ever performed which registered on the Richter Scale on the day. But before flying, he also won a ticket for the Tokyo leg of the tour. Unperturbed, he arranged to go to both however, this is where the universe has a sense of humour, he was accepted to a year long course, in said London, which commenced before the Tokyo event was held in October. So he went to the Wembley show from Tokyo and the Tokyo show from London. Potentially setting an accidental record.

I, on the other hand, did not win the Tokyo lottery and, despite desperate efforts, totally failed to gain a seat. That was, until the night before, when my son casually mentioned he had a spare (yes, he'd be holding it for about a month while I sweated). And so I got there. With a broken arm from two weeks prior, six pins in my shoulder and the firm belief I had a lot more time to break other bones but possibly only this chance to see the band. And so I went, my 27 year old son in the vanguard down the un-railed stair of Tokyo Dome,  with his friend bringing up the rear. And the crowd around me, when they saw I was slung up and unsteady, actually formed a bubble around me to help me through the crowd. What a show, and what a local crowd.

It was, to put it mildly, a stinking hot summer this year. It's not necessarily the heat that gets you but the combination of that along with the humidity. Going out is something of a crash course in survival under these conditions and you end up planning your route dancing between air-conditioned department stores and life restoring restaurants. Or you can head up to the mountains and stay in a "besso". The closest analogy we'd have would be the venerable mountain chalet, usually around 1,000m plus, above the heat and sweat of the Pacific coastal cities. I've had one for many years and it makes a pleasure of the summer months. The curious thing this year though is two other friends have respectively bought their own in the second half of 2025 and third is planning a purchase too. Shame we're all on different mountains, but considering the opportunities for something going horribly wrong if we were located within beer distance, probably for the best.    

Earlier in the year, a UK friend I've known for nearly forty years, decided to dip his toe in the water and relocate for the next couple of years before retirement. Great to see him. Life is so much easier now with Google Translate and Navi (Sat Nav) than it used to be when arrangements were conferred via answer machines and directions using a faxed map of where you were going and a strong sense of hope. 

Winter (the official one) arrived upon Tokyo at 12.03pm December 21 as a celestial event but it's too soon for the snow in the metropolis, though further north the blizzards are drifting and the Black Bears are hopefully hibernating (and a wolf escaped from a zoo last week by walking out of an open door). It's been a good year, I've continued to collect every spam from Yahoo! (still massive here by the way) with 823 currently awaiting to send to the distributor as a thank you gift in the new year.

And finally, I'm slowly getting used to writing about "my life in Japan" rather than "Japan itself", I decision I made after some 600 posts on the intricacies of the country. Taken a while but I'm eventually getting there. Hope you had a good one too. Happy New Year and may tomorrow bring you a smile.