The lobby of our hotel was at the check-in level in Haneda airport, therefore there was no need to stress about making connections this morning, nothing to fear by way delay by traffic jam, no need to set an alarm. All we had to do was to wake up at our leisure and wander down through immigration and onto the plane.
At first we were a little disappointed to have a room on the opposite side of the building to the runway, thinking it might be nice to watch the planes coming and going through the night, but we watched the taxis instead and this morning as were rising, the haze beyond our large picture window cleared briefly, framing Mt Fuji perfectly as she winked at us and gave us a farewell wave, no doubt wishing us a safe journey and hoping we’d come back soon.
She was gone as quickly as she had appeared though, cosseted once again beneath a thick doona cloud, doing whatever it is that god-volcanoes do when no one can see them, leaving us checking our photos to convince ourselves the visit had been real.
In high spirits we checked in our bags, apologising as we did for their weight and blaming all of our souvenirs. “Ahh” replied the charming young lady behind the counter, “Because you have many souvenirs from my country I’ll mark your bags for priority handling.”
Tonight, Paris you have a hard act to follow.