Why am I so fixated on keeping up this one-post-a-day habit? I guess it’s a good thing really, but today really isn’t the day to write, and my pre-blogged entries for the course of my holiday have run out so here I am.
I woke up at 6.15am Tokyo time (22.15pm Thursday night), and flew back to the UK during another disorientating 24 hours of continuous sunlight. This is at least expected when flying west, but it baffingly happened on the eastwards trip to Japan last week, despite it being a ‘night flight’. We flew so far north, hugging north coast of Russia that the night slipped past us in the south.
Added to that not being able to sleep at all on the flight (managed to watch 4 films though from the ropey selection: The King’s Speech, Breakfast at Tiffanys, The Notebook and John Carter, eclectic!), and having to wait for an hour for a late National Express coach, and you get a very tired person.
Heathrow Arrivals really is a dismal experience, and while I feel that Heathrow – all things considered – is a pretty cool airport to leave from, I really pity those poor foreigners whose first experiences in the UK are at Heathrow. Not that they seem to mind, gleefully blocking aisles and pushing around with impossibly huge trolley-loads of luggage. The central bus terminal manages to suck the life out of even the keenest tourists. A desolate waiting room with disconnected TV monitors, the sulkiest WHSmith staff I’ve ever met (and I’ve met more than my fair share). Even that’s before you start talking about the people. The bus station staff surely are a proper ‘slice of life’, but this doesn’t help the contagious feeling of chaos and panic amongst worried looking visitors.
Nonetheless, I had a great time in Japan, and will do a full write-up or three in due course.