Ours is an ordered, simple existence. Japan resembles a colossal theme park. That sense of there being a huge, invisible object of authority, affecting the actions of our neighbours has been taken for granted, and stepping outside, into the dark, chaotic realms of gaikoku probably means that people won't be on their best behaviour to keep face within the group, and our chances of getting robbed by a desperately hungry person are doubled because of a) the size and b) the standard of living held by our next host nation.
But surely, such national stereotyping is one of the things I find myself loathing about Japan? Could it be that I've found myself adapting in areas I've never even tried to alter? In which case, what is even more terrifying isn't the two months we spend rootless, crossing the biggest continet in the world, rather it is what we come back to, the lifestyle and attitudes we may have forgotten.
In many ways, returning to the UK is even more uncertain than going out to Japan was.
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