2. A little of the language does not go a long way. You can smile and point and use all of your facial muscles and say "sumimasen, Pre-paid phone, domo," as much as you like, but you will not walk out of the shop with a pre-paid phone. What you will walk out of the shop with is a bright red face and a gaggle of giggling shop assistants.
3. Cyonara is, in fact, spelt sayonara, and a) yes, it makes a difference, and b) nobody says it anyway, because it's old fashioned and Western films have ruined it.
4. Tokyo is bonkers. Utterly bonkers. And therefore amazing and the best city in the world. Rural Japan is, by contrast, much less bonkers, and much more scary.
5. Old habits die hard. After at least an hour and a half spent standing wide eyed in a supermarket, I walked out with:
- A tuna mayo rice ball.
- A bar of Cadburys chocolate.
- Pasta.
- Cheese sauce.
- A bottle of diet Coke.
6. New habits form quickly.
I have established that I like: soya beans, seaweed biscuits, giant fish-egg wotsits (that's what I call them, anyway) and salmon/wasabi rice balls. I have also established that I like Manga, brightly coloured mobile phones, scooters and sitting cross-legged on the floor. I am therefore already eating, doing and attempting to buy all of the above to the exclusion of every other new experience, which makes me a total loser.
7. Walking into a wood in shorts and sitting on your suitcase and crying for half an hour because you're lost and overwhelmed will not solve anything, but it will mean that 56 mosquitos will feast on you while you're distracted and cause your legs to blow up like ham hocks.
8. For every hour spent looking for a "nice dress" in London to take with you, spend an hour learning a bit of Japanese vocabulary instead. You can buy dresses in Japan; what you can't buy is the ability to communicate without running out of the shop screaming.
9. Stereotyped Japanese past-times are utterly true, and much, much more fun than bowling. Karaoke, themed restaurants, slot machines, comic stores, dance machines (lots of machines) are all the norm, and just as entertaining as they look: especially when the lights all go out half way through your starters and the waitresses cover themselves in blood and start rattling on your 'prison bars' (door in front of your table). Even if it means you can't see what you're eating.
10. Five foot ten blondes don't blend in very well, even in flat shoes and a hat. And every single Japanese word used will be automatically deemed 'cute', no matter how well you think you have nailed the accent.
11. Language tapes bought online are wrong, and teach you nonsense that will make people laugh at you, a bit like that poor Korean girl in X factor who sang Mariah Carey and got every single word a little bit wrong. Plus, knowing how to say 'I would like a coffee' is all well and good, but if you don't know what 'would you like a small one or a large one, with milk or cream or a mocha, and do you want the cheap sandwich deal and a table by the window?' means, you're screwed either way.
12. Making friends who speak both languages is probably the best thing you can possibly do for your sanity. Thank God for Sam from The Best Job In The World: without whom I'd probably still be in the airport, although at least I wouldn't now be addicted to seaweed ricecakes.
13. Chopsticks are easy to manage if the object is: large, dry and textured. If it's slippery, just tip it into your mouth from the bowl or you'll make a mess of your t-shirt.
14. If you are a messy, fussy cow in England, you will be a messy, fussy cow in Japan. If you don't like pork in England, you won't like pork in Japan either. And if you get lost in Islington, the chances are that you're going to spend large proportions of your time sitting on the pavement at bus stations, wondering where the hell you are. All that's changed is where you are: not who you are, apparently.
All in all, it's a good start. But a start it is: I have yet to secure a job, a house, more than five words of language and a knowledge of what the hell I'm supposed to do with 90% of the contents of the supermarkets. But I've only cried once, I've only had the bottom half of my legs eaten by insects and I've finally worked out how to wheel my suitcase without smacking the backs of my heels in the process.
Let the rest of the adventures begin. After I've finished my bar of Cadburys chocolate, obviously.