Hi, it’s me again.

We went out for soba last night those famously flavourless Japanese noodles that somehow worm their way into your heart. I’ve fallen completely in love with them over the years. I can now eat nearly everything Japanese… except natto(fermented soybeans), that mysterious breakfast goo the locals swear by. My first few months in Japan were tragic, really I survived on crisps and pasta, clinging to my Western comfort carbs. But somewhere between awkward konnichiwa’s and too-quiet dinners, I learned to love everything here even the people who don’t talk much.

The last time I left Japan was back in April for a family wedding in the US. Six days away, and by day two, I was painfully homesick. I went for a walk in those  blue ridge mountains and not a single soul. Just a few cars. No people, no chatter, no one cycling past or walking their dogs. It was eerie. I missed Japan’s buzz, the clinking of bicycle bells, kids in parks, and the comforting chaos of people walking everywhere.

When my father-in-law asked, “So, how do you like the US?” I couldn’t bring myself to say, “Honestly, not my cup of tea.” Instead, I smiled politely and said how lovely it was to see everyone. (It was! Just… you know, six days were plenty.)

So yes, I’m utterly, hopelessly in love with Japan. With its people, its politeness, its convenience stores, and even its painfully bland soba.

Wherever you are, I hope you’re just as madly, ridiculously in love with your home as I am.

Happy Monday,

Loads of love,

Hannah