Home isn’t a place. Even after a year in a tiny box in the busiest part of Tokyo, home isn’t that box. Instead it’s a feeling. The hugs and stories, tea and coffee you share with those you love.
“Somewhere with Beaches”
When I first started studying Japanese five years ago, my Dad, a slightly sceptical man, started funneling funds into a ‘just-in-case-he-doesn’t-give-up’ piggy bank. As the years passed, and it became…