Usually it is a (JAL) day flight to Tokyo but this time courtesy of frequent flyer points we took the (Qantas) night flight. From a cold rainy Sydney.
'The party starts at midnight' he grinned handing out the jarmmies, and the next thing it was 'breakfast in bed?'
After weeks of the helter-skelter of getting away, missing concerts, end-of-year panic, general clearing the decks, lists upon lists, and even a day's work on departure day, we'd made it.
The luggage man bows as the bus leaves the kerb. The policeman with the stick and shield bows at every passer-by.
How green it is I always forget.
Thick tensile stands of bamboo, hills dense with firs, sudden sweeps of chequered rice paddies - all receding as we head into the great grey overcast metropolis, back to Shibuya.
It's not raining - just hot and humid.
Come the morning - Nah, must have been spitting which was impossible to tell from the 31st floor through the misty fug of the Tokyo air.
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