Interlude
Tokyo, Japan.
Waiting for the appropriate time for our repective departures, we listened to favourite Beethoven sonatas, escaping the humidity through delicate arpeggios and grave seventh chords, braving the heat that no amount of iced coffee was able to relieve.
"So this is how it feels like to be roasted," said I. "I feel an affinity with chickens." He laughed.
A calm, quiet morning. I had very little sleep on the bus. I made friends with a lovely French-Kenyan man who was also making his way from Osaka to Tokyo. At 5:30 am, the buses stopped at a service area an hour and a half from our destination. I took the chance to stretch, breathing the fresh, heavy morning air, drinking in the weight of the sleepy mountainside. Then gradually, we wound our way from the cloud-caressed hills to a subdued Tokyo, still waking up under a shroud of smog.
Posted by sniffles at August 28, 2002 02:27 PM