At some point during Friday night I managed to drift off. I was in the middle of a corking dream about being at a party with friends, when my alarm rudely jerked me awake. Never mind, I thought to myself, the real thing awaits! Seeing as I considered it an hour at which no one should have business being awake, I was startled to find several housemates already downstairs, presumably in the middle of an "all-nighter." Still, it was nice to have someone to say goodbye to. Having double- and triple-checked that I had everything I could need, I trundled out the door, determined that nothing would go wrong with my trip home. I managed to lose my underground ticket between Irinaka and Kanayama (a few days later it turned up wedged between some cards), but a quick excess fare later I was on to the next leg of the journey.
This was my second time riding a Japanese overground train, and my first time buying my own ticket (which I didn't let out of my sight) and getting on without a guide. Perhaps because my schedule had altered since its first draft, I forgot about changing trains until I got to Aoyama station - a pleasant enough place, with a healthy smell of manure and mysterious digeridoo sounds in the crisp morning air, but nonetheless quite out of my way. Got back on the track alright, though, and had a pleasant surprise. On Japanese trains announcements of next stop etc. are made first in Japanese, then again in English, but on the service to the airport the English segment was made in an English (i.e. not American) accent. A refreshing foreshadowing of home!
Arriving at the airport I felt a surge of excitement. I still had plenty of time to spare, and I considered if the two hiccups so far were the worse that happened the situation would be quite satisfactory. When checking in (suitcase 18kg on the dot - not bad as I was only guessing the weight while packing) I was gratified that in spite of my obvious foreignness the lady behind the counter spoke to me in Japanese. I found the airport far more impressive in the bright morning with all its Christmas decorations than when I first arrived, tired and a little bit scared, way back in September. Suddenly I had a craving for coffee! So I found a café, relaxed over a cup and caught up with some writing for a while.
As anyone who has flown before will surely know, there's not that much to tell about the trip into the wild blue yonder. Sitting down for twelve plus hours and trying to keep occupied. All was going swimmingly until we arrived in Frankfurt. All internal flights and lots of international ones cancelled due to snow and such, and one hell of a queue to the transfers desk as everyone tried to work out what to do. Eventually I got booked on a flight to Manchester next morning and put up in an hotel overnight. Not an ideal situation, one admits, but at least it was on the mend... or so I thought.
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| This is the sky. It's what aeroplanes fly in. |
