FROM SHANGHAI TO LONDON BY TRAIN: England: London - home

The train came to a stop at Waterloo station. I took my final picture there, of the station sign and walked through the passport control and into Waterloo underground station. Jesus, everything had shot up in price. I got a one day travel card for much more money than I can ever recall paying as announcements flooded over the PA system, notifying customers that the Waterloo and City line wasn’t running at all, there were severe disruptions to the Central and Piccadilly line, minor delays on the circle and District line and part suspension of the Victoria and Northern lines. I had to dart around several lines to the station where an overhead train would take me to my dad’s place. Just as it had taken me two hours to get from Brussels to London, it took me a further two hours to get home, even though my dad lived some 15 miles away from central London.
I got a strong sense of humility having arrived in England by myself, having left by myself for Japan some two years previous. I surely felt stronger, ready to tackle whatever would be thrown at me. Japan had certainly given me new tools to tackle hard situations and I had learnt to appreciate true friendships, the effort needed to find happiness and being content with myself, as I am. This journey home was a struggle, as much of living in Japan was. But I couldn’t help thinking what was the point of such a struggle only to come home and forget it all? Perhaps I’d return one day. But for now I thought, let’s give England a chance.