After a quick onsen and a ridiculously hearty breakfast it was time to wade back to Tokyo. I wasn’t particularly looking forward to the three-hour trip home as it is a bit of a trek, and also because the trains are blooming slow. I was therefore delighted to be offered a lift home from one of my supervisors, all the way to Tokyo in a luxury car; it was bliss. What was not bliss was the my decision to consume half a litre of ice cold water shortly before setting off, which when combined with the tailback into Tokyo almost lead to a very embarrassing incident. Thankfully we were able to stop at a service area approximately 20 seconds before my bladder failed me completely and I ruined a perfectly lovely trip.
My flat is slowly starting to empty, and as it does so it is becoming more and more obvious that I won’t be seeing much of the deposit. Apart from the fact that some of the tatami mats are slightly ripped, the inside of my cupboard has partially collapsed, and one of the walls is permanently stained from varnish. On top of which the estate agent will insist on charging a ‘cleaning fee’, no matter how surgically clean my apartment may actually be. All of which means that I am half tempted to just leave it as is, and not bother to tidy up at all. Or at least I would be, if I weren’t compelled by my neurosis to clean it until it sparkles.