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Every photo taken during my second trip, in chronological order.



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The art of a twelve hour conversation

I found my seat and sat down. I was in the same seat as before but previously I had switched seat with my neighbour as he was apparently incapable of recalling the alphabet. This was the least of his failings. This time round I was to be far more fortunate.
I sat down and watched the people I had seen throughout the airport file in and find their seats. I amused my self by judging them all by my own impossible and horrifically brutal standards. My seat neighbour arrived. She was young, Japanese and very nervous looking. I got up to let her pass and sat back down. We sat in silence for a while as is customary. The art of conversation in a long-haul flight is an intricate and well documented one. It is very difficult to talk to anyone for twelve hours straight. Equally it is very awkward to have a series of sequential smaller conversations. Knowing when to end and begin an interaction is something which can be calculated. However similar to Seldon's Psychohistory it is partly art and partly science. It is also incredibly hard to apply and relies on human reactions to known stimuli staying constant. I was praying some kind of Mule equivalent was not present of the flight.
I took the risk. The big risk. I started up a conversation before the flight had even taken off. The preparation time for take off is also the preparation time for in-flight interactions. It is essentially a free period where you can busy yourself inspecting the plane or possibly pretending you are nervous about take off. I chose to sacrifice this time in the hope of larger returns later on. I was adding a full forty-five minutes or so into the calculations.
I asked her why she was going to England. She turned to me and for one moment I thought I had lost everything. In that moment she stared at me in silence so powerful I thought they would have to cancel the flight. Then she answered. The subject you raise and even the words you use are only a small part of the game. The manner with which you use them a far larger force. I had hit a home run or some other equally extreme sporting analogy. We began talking and I found her easy to understand. Her name was Yukimi, she was impressed that I knew it's meaning and the correct kanji, and she was going our a tour of Europe. She was using her extended Golden Week time off to see some of the world. I looked at her itinerary and realised I had been to many of the places, a practical gold mine full of golden diamonds and diamond gold in terms of conversation material. I chose to talk about Germany to start off. My German is now near non-existent but I tore out some paper from my notebook and cooly wrote down some useful phrases for her. I wrote down the harder words in katakana causing her to laugh at my handwriting. She told me it was adorable. This is the type of complement that is actually an insult. It is akin to telling someone how well they handle a blade because they haven't stabbed them-self in the face while cutting a slice of bread.
We were talking and before the plane had even started to taxi someone else was on my other side. I looked round to see the woman who was seated in front of me. She spoke some English before I told her Japanese would be fine. She looked at me and apologised for overhearing my conversation with Yukimi. She loved Germany and her name was Maki. My conversational home run had just become whatever a home run is when you square it. We talked too which was somewhat awkward because she had to stand in the isle to do so. The seat belt sign forced our exchange to end. As she sat back down Yukimi commented that I was a very popular person. I have never been popular for a good reason. I have only ever been popular in the sense that Harry was popular with the Hendersons.
I was happy and felt well prepared for the twelve hours ahead me of. It was to be full of entertainment. Perhaps my favourite part was when a young man attempted the worst pick up line ever conceived. He turned to the woman beside him and said, displaying true verbal prowess, "I like movies. I often find them good.". The woman then proceeded to talk for an hour and a half without pause. During this time she said nothing of merit or interest. I would check in every now and then but at no point had she progressed beyond the mundanity of her own life and personality. She was stopped only when the same man who had initiated her linguistic purging interrupted her. "I'm sorry. I only wanted to talk to you because you're so very pretty but you're so boring that I really wish I hadn't bothered." He said. In her stunned silence he picked up the in-flight magazine, exaggeratedly flicked it out and began to read. I suspect he was not really reading it. It takes courage to insult someone so thoroughly when you know full well you will be sitting next to them for a minimum of ten more hours. I realised that he had probably spent most of her verbal outpouring deciding the best way to do so.
In time the meals came round. A stewardess with a London accent so abrasive it counted as assault handed me the wrong meal. I didn't question it because I don't like to be troublesome. I also feared that she might open her mouth again and cause an Ark of the Covenant situation.
My time passed pleasantly. Yukimi slept while I tried to keep comfortable. Once she woke up we spent time trying to check the window only to find it was far too bright outside. We talked more and I managed to pass time by suggesting media for her to be exposed to. Everything happened slowly.
When we were finally getting close to landing I broke off a conversation with Maki and leaned back in my seat. Yukimi quietly told me that she didn't mint flying but landing scares her. I looked out the window and simply said "London". During the final part of the descent her fears were nullified by the simple point and compare game. I pointed at a building and she compared it to her tourist guide. Soon we were safe on the ground. I welcomed her to England and we all began to walk out. Me, her and Maki talked as we moved towards immigration. They began talking to each-other more and more. Suddenly I we were at the dividing point. My UK passport meant I had to take a different route. I told them they could contact me if they had any trouble and walked away. As I stood in my queue I saw them in the distance, still talking. I wondered if they would remain friends. They certainly seemed to have grown close very suddenly. Being a conduit felt strange. Connecting two strangers through nothing more than my vague presence felt good.
I showed my passport, picked up my bag and walked out. It was simple.

Last day

I was moving out. I already had everything packed and prepared. I spent the time generally double checking things and repacking. It was raining and had been since about three in the morning when I had been walking home. I hadn't slept and still had a large dose of sake inside me. Eventually the time came and I went to my room. I sat quietly for an hour. He was an hour late but he was nice. He checked everything while asking me about football. I stumbled through the conversation. I was speaking about football in Japanese. A language I am bad at and a subject I have spent twenty years not learning. Everything was fine, my deposit was given back to me and I walked out with my two bags. I moved disturbingly fast because deep down I suspected some kind of flaw would be found. Possibly I had forgotten to clean properly or I had left a dead bear under the mattress. Thoughts of my own implausible failings propelled me into the rain. I decided I would go for a walk with my heavy bags. Rather than taking the station within a few hundred feet of my apartment I walked for almost two hours until I found a random metro station. I decided I was wet enough and got on. Luckily I stopped at Gotanda and thus I had an easy route to Shinmaruko and the abode of Mie and Tatsuya. I did not take this route. I ended up in Shimomaruko. I was tired and carrying heavy bags. In same way I knew I was needlessly getting lot to make me feel like I was extending my time in Japan. Within a few more minutes I was at the right station. I could remember the route to their house and I was soon looking up at it glowing softly in the dark rain filled sky. I was welcomed by Mie and Tatsuya gave me the best tasting coffee I have ever had. I opened my bag to let it dry. Everything was damp but I was now warm and being cared for. I felt the memories of my goodbye party begin to vibrate in my head. They didn't have long to do so before I was called into action. They were going shopping and I was going to take a bath. Walked to a sento I had been to before. One wall of it constantly expressed steam out onto the street. With the hazy rain and bright city lights far in the difference the street had a very noir feeling. I commented that it was like Blade Runner. They went to the shops and I stowed my my shoes. Just like last year they didn't fit. I walked in cold and wet, paid my fee, undressed and began to wash myself. Once I was clean I walked into the baths. There is no better feeling. The past few days had been heavily active. Each day I had learned new things and every moment my world had grown bigger. I had not had time for sleep. I sat in the hot water and felt good. Muscles were soar from bag straps and cramped busses. I moved to the mineral bath and sat surrounded by strangers. I must have looked strange. A tired foreigner with eyes focused on something other than any object reflecting or emitting photons. In my head I could feel every second of the past month swinging past. Each one experienced at the same time.
I got out and dried myself. I got dressed and walked out. I moved quietly back to the apartment. Tatsuya was the one who answered the door. They insisted I sit and relax. Food was being prepared. The meal was to be sukiyaka. We talked about my time and all the things I had done. The TV was turned on and a comforting array of game shows and anime slowed down the pace. I needed to go slowly. A small electric stove was put on a table in the middle of the floor and ingredients were gathered. I was handed an egg and I soon had it whisked in my bowl. Meat and vegetables were in the cooker while Mie was still busy in the kitchen. I dipped my meat in the egg and I have ever tasted anything better. I have never needed a meal more. I had no physical need for it but there was a need. We watched different game shows and parts of Shoalin Girl. Everything was shrouded in a sleep induced surreality. It was far from what most people consider to be real in the first place. I never knew there was a cartoon of Men in Black. It was good and possibly better for being in Japanese. I ate mixed rice made by Tatsuya and considered how much rice cookers cost. We all ate matcha icecreams. At one point Chieko called. She had wanted to come but was at a work engagement. I talked to her and told her I was happy. I thanked her for everything. She sounded strong. I handed the phone back to Mie. As they talked I could only hear Chieko's voice as a tiny whisper from the earpiece. I knew that she was crying.
In time we all became full. Tatsuya commented that he had made too much and I didn't seem to have eaten as much as expected. I smiled said I would do better next time. We talked and watched TV. At near midnight they realised I hadn't slept for days. I didn't mind but they insisted I should rest. A bed was made up on the floor and I was handed pyjamas. Tatsuya found an alarm clock and set it for six the next day. I did the same with my phone. Then we all went to bed. I finally slept.
As I usually do I woke up moments before the alarm. I quickly got my things ready as quietly as I could. When I was almost ready I heard movement in the room next door. They emerged and said good morning. I was ready to go but they insisted I should eat breakfast. It was filling and warm.
We were outside and heading to the river. It was early and calm. There was still some haze from the previous nights rain. Mie had a camera and was running around taking pictures. Soon we were on the bridge. They told me that if it was clear we could have seen Fuji. I told them that it wasn't a problem. I can see it when I come back and I've stood on it. All too soon we were in the station and another farewell was in progress. It was a remix of last years one. Instead of being in Yoyogi we were out of the city and I was the one on the track side of the barriers. I didn't stop waving until they I was all the way up the escalator.
On the trains I sent e-mails. It didn't take long for me to get to Ueno and onto an express train. Then I was at the airport and checking in. I made phone calls. I said good-bye. I told Chieko I would e-mail her. I said I would be back. I told her that nothing would separate me from the land. Then I hung up the phone and checked in my bags.
I moved through custom and immigration like an angry walrus. My belt set off the metal detector and I jerked it out so fast it almost cracked like a whip. I got to my gate. Sent my last phone mails and confidently walked onto the plane.
Nothing was going to make me feel anything less than brilliant. No matter what was going to happen I was going to come back. I was ready.

Phone post - Plane

In theory it boards now. It departs in just under an hour.

Phone post - Check in

The line is long but I'm nearly there.