They really weren't kidding about the humidity here in summer. Yes, here, as in Japan, as in I made it this far.
Once again airports, it turns out, are the same in Japan as they are everywhere else. I managed to clear customs without the excitement of being searched, bought a train ticket, and even managed to catch the right train. Be proud of me, I am. After alighting the train at Narita Eki things did not carry on however, in the same carefree manner that my trip has had so far.
I got lost, and then I got more lost, so I asked for directions. I obviously picked the wrong person to ask, because then I got more lost. An hour later, all I had managed to do was find my way back to the station, something I considered an enormous success after walking around like a twit, lugging the turtlepack in this ridiculous humidity. I have a monsoon under my T-shirt right now, not pretty.
At this point, I sought refuge, air conditioning and diet coke in the sanctuary known more commonly as McDonalds. I pulled out my trusty sidekick Warren to see what he had to say about the matter. Turns out I had taken 6 wrong turns in the space of 200 metres, before now I didn't even think that was possible and the reason I hadn't been able to right myself was the map I had had Chrystler as a landmark which turned out to be a Peugeot dealership. Not cool.
After receiving this ingot of wisdom from my dear friend Warren. I then proceeded to walk directly to the International Guesthouse AZURE Narita, Japan only to discover it is closed til 4:30. So here I am, sitting in their stairwell, leeching off their WIFI, dreaming of nice hot shower, until someone arrives to let me in.
Right now, I can't think of anywhere else I would rather be.