FROM SHANGHAI TO LONDON BY TRAIN: Japan

Here is my diary for the 6 week journey I took going home from Tokyo. I'm typing it up as I go so please be paitent. It starts in a pretty sombre mood but if you can get over that, it gets better I think. It was written as I travelled. I hope you can enjoy it. Each blog entry will represent a part of the journey, starting with :



Japan: The Saddest Day

I never thought I’d be looking at the passing urban suburbs of Tokyo and thinking how I’ll miss it all. As I drove with Aki to the airport, we burst into tears for the majority of the journey. I’ve rarely known such sadness. This was it. This was the final journey to the airport, having been in Japan for twenty months, having fallen in and out and in love, having had my world turned upside-down, spun-around and shaken-up. The way her chin pointed up sharply and quivered as she sobbed hard broke my heart again and again. Her desperate croaky voice, broken by crying:
“I don’t wanna go to the airport… no… no… don’t go Trevor… don’t go… let’s go somewhere… let’s go to Disney Land” and my heart broke again, shattered and scattered across this country that was once so foreign and unwelcoming to me. Now I clung to it desperately, unable to comprehend the enormity of leaving my life here, my friends, my routines, Aki, and Maki. Maki is another story.
We were late for check-in and I had to rush from one counter to another, as my travelling buddy Chris, and his Japanese girlfriend of six months happily waited for me and joked with each other. Aki stood a few metres away, in her own desperate world, sobbing and sobbing as she leaned against a huge pillar, unable to support herself. I finally her and told her I loved her, and I’d see her soon, unable to know if either was true. She held her handkerchief against her beautiful smooth face, against the mask she was wearing, in an attempt to convince the strangers around her that it was all just a strong bout of hayfever. But her inconsolable sobs gave her away. I cried and cried as the incredibly strong bond between us was starting to be roughly torn apart. I had to leave. Chris was waiting. The plane was waiting. This was the plan. But I couldn’t help asking myself again and again “why am I leaving Japan now?”
As I was boarding onto the plane, I noticed the most stark and beautiful sunset I’d ever seen in the land of the rising sun.
So, our plan was to travel by land from Shanghai to London over about six weeks, passing through China, Mongolia, Russia, Beralus, Poland, Germany, Belgium and France. I’m not expecting all to go according to plan but I’ve realised that that’s why people like travelling. Instead of turning around and landing back in Tokyo, as my heart and soul ached for, our plane landed uneventfully in Shanghai in fog that was so thick, we still thought we were in the sky as we looked out the window and the plane suddenly jolted onto the runway.

Once we were through customs, we collected our backpacks and searched for ways of getting to central Shanghai.
“You want taxi? You want taxi?” was the mantra of the shady tourist-fishermen as we walked around looking for a phone to contact one of the places listed in Chris’ “Lonely Planet” guide to China. A semi-hysterical group of young Chinese ladies were frantically trying to get our attention:
“You want hotel? You want hotel?”
We went over to them and was asjed about our budget for a bed. Chris said “three hundred and fifty” and her reaction failed to hide her happy shock to which she replied “oh, we have many options for three-fifty”.
But I’d landed without any Chinese cash so I found an international ATm and withdrew an almost random figure of ¥1000. I had no idea what the Yuan was worth. Most of the hotel’s phone numbers in Chris’ new-edition guide didn’t work but we found one place, the Nanching Hotel. The guy told us to get the no.2 metro and get off at… somewhere. It just sounded like noise. We went to a taxi desk and were told a bus would take 2 hours but a taxi would take forty-five minutes or one hour, depending on which liar you listened to.
“Can we get the metro?” we asked.
“No. Metro stops at 9pm.” It was 10pm. I wandered out the exit and found some buses. Instead of the ¥350 cab ride that was being strongly advised to us, we took the bus for ¥16, which tool fifty minutes, over-taking hundreds of slow driving taxis as it sped down the highways. We got talking to a Chinese guy who was coming home from his job as an aircraft maintenance engineer. Having formed the impression from the Japanese that the Chinese hate them, I was surprised to hear he could speak a little Japanese and liked Japan very much. He told us that his English name was “Pannis”. When I asked how does a Chinese person work-out their English name, he said “we don’t. Just choose a cool word. I like ‘Pannis’”

Once we were dropped off somewhere apparently vaguely near our hotel, we eventually arrived to a surprisingly nice place, having passed through downtown Shanghai late in the evening with offers of “beautiful girl” and “ma-sar-gee”. It occurred to me what a strange impression of backpackers these guys must have, as if the first thing on our minds is to get lard, having just stepped onto the country.
Once we settled into the room, I flicked through the TV channels, and was surprised to discover a few English speaking channels. I tried to put thoughts of Aki and Maki out of my mind and went to bed.