After getting my visa at the Kuwaiti embassy, I went on down to Shibuya to gather some coins at the coin dealer. He didn't have what I needed.
I then wandered over to Narita Airport and boarded a Boeing 777 bound for San Francisco. The flight was uneventful. The food wasn't very good. The movie with Mark Wahlberg was OK. I passed an inordinate amount of time watching stupid sitcoms and a screen with a map on it like this one. I arrived in Denver later than expected.
But I had a heavy heart the whole time, as my life in Japan is over. I'm getting in touch with friends and family again, but I'm finding it difficult. My life and home were and in some ways still are in Japan. People over here don't really get that. Everyone talks of me being home. But I don't feel home at all.