4 a.m. on Tuesday. Whilst my alarm is due to go off at 4.30 a.m., my body’s inner clock kicks in and I wake up in advance, no doubt fearing that I’ll fail to get up in time for the series of trains that will take me to Tokyo airport to catch my 10.30 a.m. flight.

Once aboard my flight, the weather deals a Joker. We sit on the tarmac amidst rain, lightening and thunder. Three hours later, when the weather has cleared, we return to the stands for refuelling. It’s best not to have the “time to refuel” red light come on in mid air.

My neighbour on the flight is a young Japanese man. The Japanese are said to be shy and still he greets me in English and later in French. He asks me how I got on with chopsticks and later he asks me for a tutorial in using a knife, fork and spoon which I gladly give him. It’s his first visit to Europe and I’m glad to help him to prepare.

He tells me about a new trend amongst the older people of Japan. Choosing to leave their homes so that their children can move in, they have nowhere to go, so they commit crimes that will land them in jail where the accomodation is free of charge. So widespread is this practice that some prisons are adapted for the elderly, with railings, for example, to support inmates in walking.

Our flight arrives late in Paris and I have missed my connection. The ground staff arrange for me to stay over and I rise at 4 a.m. to prepare to catch my 7.30 a.m. flight to London City Airport. It’s Thursday morning and I’m nearly home.

I savour the experiences I have had during my stay. I smile especially as I think of the children we have encountered: the two small girls in Nakamachidai who greeted Judy and I with a look of shock and then kept popping their heads around the door of the shop we were in to say “goodbye”; the little girl at the train station who asked my brother if he was in Japanese. It has been a visit rich in new experiences.

It’s time to say goodbye. Goodbye Japan. I wonder whether I am saying au revoir.