I left Tokyo on June 29th 2015, about a month ago. Already. Inside the plane, I was feeling completely lost: how my journey could be better than this incredible week in the Land of the Rising Sun?
I’m not afraid to admit that I fell deeply in love with Japan. I don’t know if it’s because of Noriko, or Tokyo’s turmoil, or Agata and Natsuki’s kindness, or the beauty of Kyoto’s temple, or even this unique Onsen experience, the exquisite food, or the superb landscapes. I can’t really pick one thing that I loved more than another. Or was it just the excitement, the adrenaline of my first solo journey?
It doesn’t really matter: I fell in love with Japan.
I fell in love with all the aspects of Japan.
The eccentric Japan, traditional Japan, modern Japan, welcoming Japan, insular Japan, old Japan, volcanic Japan and so on.
I set foot in New Zealand on June 30th 2015.
Four weeks ago.
And time was flying so fast. Did I actually leave Strasbourg more than a month ago? Am I officially a hobo since then? Have I just spent a whole month without smoking any cigarettes?!? I had barely time to realise what was going on, I barely had a pinch in my heart while thinking I was so far from home. Don’t get me wrong, of course I’m missing my friends (and even my duvet and my flower skirts!), and I wish I could share what I’m seeing here, what I’m feeling with them. However, I feel like everything’s in order.
I regret nothing. I’m not scared anymore.
You could think that I’m feeling lonely, but I’m not. Travelling alone is actually the best way to meet people. And people come talk to me quite naturally, asking me where I’m heading, where I’m coming from, if I need any help. Sometimes we just talk about our respective lives during a bus drive, a hike, a sunset or with jam toasts. It doesn’t take more than 10 minutes to become friends on Facebook, and an evening is fairly enough to become lifetime friends. I’m still writing to friends I met while in Japan or when I first arrived in Auckland. We’re keeping each other posted about our journeys, hoping (and why not?) that we will meet again someday, somewhere in the world.
It’s like I’m reaching out something more authentic here, something that I just can’t define yet.
And I’m running so fast that I’m losing my breath. I’m running downhill, I’m running in the green meadows, I’m running on the white sand beaches. I’m running by the water, even though my clothes are getting wet, even though my ass is getting wet. The landscapes are hitting me right in the face and I’m loving it. I’m not afraid anymore not having a clue where I’d be tomorrow. Because I can go wherever I want to.
And I’m really planning to make the most of it.