To all things comes an end; resistance is futile. So the only thing one can do is make sure everything is so amusing and stupidly childish it remains forever engraved within our brains.
I do promise to write a big post on surviving Tokyo (and Japan); however, travelling seems to be rather time consuming and tiresome, so such a promise can only be fulfilled once I return to Melbourne.
My last day was, undoubtedly, tainted by sadness. There would be no more gossip in Romanian, no more ramen, takoyaki or sushi. No more Japanese to enchant my ear. However, it made me realise for certain that Japan is a country I must revisit.
I accept full responsibility for this post being boring and nowhere near what a departure note from Japan would deserve. However, if I manage to write the first day of Vietnam, you will soon find out that I am slightly inebriated due to my hosts.
On the plane, I had realised how much travelling inspires me to become better, and how much one should perpetually pursue inspiration; for without it, we would simply become accustomed to out boring, silly lives. We need to be challenged as often as we can.
This is a little street of bars surviving from the 2nd World War, bringing with them a unique charm and melancholy.
Blogging during travels seems to be less easy than I would have expected. I can only hope my pictures distracts everyone from the absence of anything worthwhile said. And lastly, I want to thank the people who made my trip to Japan a little bit more special, because a little bit counts a lot. So big hugs for Val, Masa and especially Ioana, who smuggled me in to her dorm the same way I smuggled weapons into Mexico.