Some say you should never return to a place where you were happy. Maybe there’s something in it, but it’s worth the risk, isn’t it? Which is why I threw that particular cautionary tale to the wind and found myself boarding yet another Japan Airlines flight heading east. I had unfinished business.
Our more faithful readers might remember my maiden trip to Tokyo just a few months ago. The more eagle-eyed among you may even recall I ended the article promising to go back. Fine, not even I expected it to be quite so soon, yet here I am, back in the bowels of Tokyo, wheeling my luggage through a sea of thousands at the Shibuya scramble crossing.
This time it comes with a weird sense of comfort. The sights, lights and smells all feel a bit more familiar. Don’t get me wrong: I am still very much a gaijin deer in the flashing neon headlights, but I know my way around a bit. It’s less Lost in Translation, a touch more homecoming.
