I’d never really thought about travelling in Japan – even after developing a huge affection for the work of Haruki Murakami – until my cousin announced that he was going to work for JET and teach English in Japan for a year. Suddenly going to this country – which has to be one of the most alien places for a girl who grew up in rural England in a family with no great passion for things Asian – became not just feasible but interesting. I suspect that if someone I knew hadn’t got to live there for a while, I’d never have gone. And I am so glad I did. I made it through Tokyo and got on a train to Takayama where my cousin was living (something that I later discovered impressed him, as he was used to having to go to Narita to fetch people) to acclimatise with him for a weekend, before embarking on a three week train tour – Hiroshima, Nagasaki, Himeji, Kyoto and Tokyo. By the time I came back, I was knackered and I *thought* I’d done Japan. Not all of it, but I thought I’d had my taste and I probably wouldn’t list it as a favourite destination. But the longer I was back, the more I thought, ‘Ooooh, I really enjoyed that. I’d like to go back one day.’ Now it’s pretty high on the list of destinations to go back to.
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