Homeward Bound

The journey home from Nara via Tokyo felt like it took a very long time and involved a hostel reminiscent of my youfff as a grubby traveller. Frenchie tried to get me to eat raw chicken and gut stew, insisting that I'd get used to the texture, and everything we tried to visit was closed.

To compensate, though, we cashed in on the perks of Frenchie's last moments as a corporate crocodile fatcat and demanded our rightful entry into the Japanese Airlines First Class Lounge at Narita Airport which, with free massage, showers, food, papers, chocolate drops, tea and a very well stocked bar, was a very nice way to finish the holiday.

Better not get used to it though as, to save me from a life of domestic expat housewife bliss, Frenchie has sold his life into a servitude of Yorkshire puddings and drizzle. Consider this exclusive breaking news: the blog might have to stop as I go back to classes of 30 and the drive for the magic C grade, but you'll have me back on hallowed UK soil as of September or October, you lucky things!