Where the stleets have no names

Mum took me to the airport with plenty of time to spare - I think we were both still reeling from the Tallinn debacle - and I was one of the first to arrive at check-in, which we had to wait for an hour to open. he and Tammi saw me off at Heathrow`s Wailing Gate, although we were far more dignified in our goodbyes, if bemused and slightly embarrassed grinning is dignified. In the Departures Lounge I scoped out possible other teachers and lurked in O`Neills nursing my last warm red wine where I wafted my guide to Tokyo (thank you Jermaine!) around in case any fellow travellers should fancy a chat. The handsome lone traveller next to me didn`t take the bait.

Ian was right about the excess baggage the Japanese squeeze onto the flight with them. If I`d realised I could have packed a whole other wardrobe, but I think I`ll cope without. It`s less to bring home.

On the flight we got to watch our own take off on the same small screens as those whose wheels hadn`t come down for landing the previous week and drank lots of chilled red wine. The inflight film was Fever Pitch (Perfect Catch in England), which I loved if only for the Standells accompanying the credits, but I couldn`t work the remote so saw it in weird chunks and pauses, then had a fabulous salmon teriyaki (which everything has tasted of since) and fell asleep to Everybody Loves Raymond. I was sat next to a fellow teacher, Dave, who has been to Chile and Spain. I am one of the few TEFL virgins joining Shane.

Breakfast was a vile nude sausage and spinach omelette laced with mushrooms, which was awful to wake up to, but we could see Russia`s vast and unspoiled landscapes from the window: she is awesome. The earth fell away from the coast into miles of open ocean, before we finally flew over Japan. It`s very green and has a patchwork of fields dotted between the mountains. As you move over more inhabited areas there are golof courses and red and white pylons it`s how I imagine Britain looked in the 60s and 70s. A very annoying boy ruined our arrival by constantly referring to his previous three years in Japan. Other people had also been here before, but didn`t feel a need to boast so awfully. I hope I don`t have to spend too much time near him (unlikely as he asked where we all lived and then informed us how far out of central Tokyo we all were).

James went missing going through customs, and we`ve since written him off as having gotten deported for carrying weed, although he may have just gone to the toilet. We were taken past paddy fields into Nippori and out to Omiya to our hotel. The rooms are very functional, even coming with their own torch should there be an earthquake. The bathrooms are the size of a small cupboard and you have to set the headboard to wake you up in the morning. A unisex kimono-style dressing gown was begging to be stolen until I tried it on and saw how unflattering it was. The tiny Happy White toothpaste tastes like Germolene and sweets.

I`m in the hotel with Stephen, an Irish guy who has taught in Thailand, Karen, who has taught in Spain and Kent, and Erica, who has spent two years in China. Karen and I will soon be living in what was once Passion Villas, whereas Stephen is in some far-flung outreach and Erica is nearly in Tokyo proper. Another Steve, this one Scottish, lives further out than any of us, but we force him to meet us as he has a degree in Japanese. Whenever he isn`t around we can only eat in restaurants with pictures on the menus. It`s amazing how retarding not knowing Japanese is. I need to learn quickly. The trains are a mission, even those with romanjii translations still require a ticket. We`ve eaten very well already, although I am feeling I could grow sick of Japanese food soon, thank god for the ubiquitous Italians. It is quite a treat having Noodle Noodle style dumplings for lunch for less than 2 each day though!

The hotel isn`t far from the strip joints of Omiya, but Stephen hasn`t been invited in as he`s been with us. He must be bored of them after Thailand anyway. Every other shop is a pachinka, packed with grown men pumping their cash into slot machines like it`s normal. The sex industry has no shame. Porn is advertised on trains and I turned on the hotel room TV and inadvertantly found two fully-clothed schoolgirls performing some sort of vetinary examination on one another. I do hope it doesn`t show up on my bill, after all, they weren`t naked, so it would hardly be fair.

I attempted to buy some hair straighteners yesterday, an impossible dream in a land where girls dream of perms and some streets aren`t even numbered. I was sent to a hardware store that stocked golf clubs, Burberry steering wheel covers and pedigree dogs. They were amazingly cute, but it was too cruel. I may get a Saturday job there. Last night we attempted to meet up in Tokyo, but Shinjuku almost beat us and we met Stephen so late3 we had to get something to eat and head back to Omiya. We bought some beers at a 7-11 and took them to my room, drinking and talking about terrorism into the small hours. It`s made me feel more at home and got everyone over the experience of registering for their alien registration card and tackling the trains. Still haven`t been felt up by a commuter. Going to get back on them and see what happens tomorrow. It is odd seeing all the brunettes gathered in one place, like an anti-Hollyoaks: the village of the saved (I did get chatting to an American missionary at breakfast, so maybe that`s true).

Breakfast this morning was accompanied by a muzak track from Les Miserables (On My Own, in fac). Training began today, although only gently reminding us of the basics of TEFL and then sending us out to observe. It is odd how the daunting new job is now the main thing that`s familiar to me, but I`m more excited about starting work again now. The older pupils are very obliging and the young ones adorable, if rather naughty.