Pfft, look at me now. A mere month ago I was an Odyssean marvel of a man, splurging 15,000 yen on tickets ten minutes before the train was due to depart, arriving with 20 kg on my back in a city I’d never been to before with no map and no plans and no accomodation booked, flipping through the Lonely Planet ten minutes before the train got in, getting my bearings in one night and having to leave the next day…

Oh, what amazing days those were. I miss them. I miss the freedom I had. I think a lot of the next few years of my life will be spent trying to experience those two weeks again, somehow.

Now here I am, and the thought of planning a trip to Sheffield gives me the willies. What if I get off at the wrong place? What if I can’t work out the tram system? How can I get from there to Lancaster?

And the voice in the back of my head says: Jeez! You landed in Tokyo on Thursday and got a job on Saturday, you got the most remote train imaginable at 7pm on a pitch-black rainy evening in that place south of Kagoshima…

God, how awesome! I got off the last ferry of the day and it was past 6 and pitch black and raining and I was in a sleepy fishing village, population 12, and I walked for an hour round the harbour just to get back to the station, and I got what may have very well been the last train of the evening, and I got back…

Man, I miss Japan.

It’s not unbearable. I have my memories, at least.

Anyway, I’ve well and truly adjusted to getting back. I’m looking for a job at the moment, and I’ve sent my university application off. I may be doing English, or Japanese, or — best of all — English & Japanese. Naturally, the Japanese courses include a year studying in Japan.

So watch this space…