Paul and I drew into Tokyo station, weary and laden down with heavy rucksacks full of omiage – gifts – for relatives and family friends. On our journey, the shinkansen had gradually passed from mountain valleys, rice valleys and isolated farms to villages, then towns spread about factories – then the buildings grew higher and higher until suddenly, there we were, in the middle of the huge, sprawling megatropolis of Tokyo. People were everywere and the basement shopping areas of Tokyo station stretched far out in every direction, as far as the eye could see. It took half an hour just to get out of the station and onto the correct undergound line to get to the office of our apartment rental company.

By the time we got there, we were exhausted. It has started to pour with rain again and too tired to negotiate rush hour trains with our heavy rucksacks and bags, we decided to grab a taxi. We arrived in Roppongi, our home for the next few weeks, huddling under our umbrellas from sheets of rain. The apartment was small, compact, immaculate, modern. Perfect. It was the most welcome sight. Although we loved the myriad experiences of our two week trip, now that we were ‘home’ we realised just how tired we were. We got in, unpacked, filled the Japanese bath full of hot water, had a soak. With a cold beer and our feet up, we felt ready to begin the next chapter of our adventures. Or chapters – these were going to be our Tokyo Stories.

For now, though, given that I am writing this by the poolside of our hotel in Siem Reap in Cambodia, I’ll be interweaving our Tokyo Stories with my tales of Indochine. It’s time to get to real time and tell you all what we’re up to right now, here in Cambodia, two days away from our flight to Vietnam.