Thoughts

Friday night, in a crowded restaurant, my phone starts buzzing on the table beside me. It is M; he and his parents, who hare in Japan visiting him, are safe. I hadn't been overly worried, I had kept my eye on the live blogs all day Friday, known that communications were down and that he was unlikely to be in touch immediately, was pretty sure their travel itinerary wasn't taking them North. But still, but still, when he called, the relief was there.

I know hundreds, thousands, of others haven't been that lucky, and so, my thoughts are with you.

Booked

Yesterday I booked my flights to Japan to go see M at Easter. Something to look forward to on these grey drizzly days when I wake each morning and for a moment find I have forgotten that he left on Monday, only to remember, and be sad.

But seeing M aside, Japan is somewhere that I have never been but for a long time have wanted desperately to, so all in all I am pretty darn excited.

Eeep!

Empty Skies

So M didn't make it back from Japan today. Not that there were many people who managed to get into or out of the country to be honest, but it is still sad, frustrating, even if he is one among hundreds. He's booked on a flight on Wednesday, but as flying schedules are all still provisional at best I'm not yet counting my chickens...just remaining tentatively hopeful.

Photos from Japan

He sends me postcards and emails, packages with gold and silver masking tape and Bambi rubber stamps, unusually flavoured Kit Kats - banana, and a cheese one that causes me to gag and run to the bathroom to the amusement of my flatmates. And last week he sent me photos, taken on a camera recently purchased in Tokyo. Suddenly his life there has colour, blue skies, the orange of maple leaves above, pine needles underfoot. Sunlight breaking through the forest canopy, unintelligible signs.

All photos by M.

This is how we roll

Last Saturday we braved the wet weather and ventured across to east London for a night of DIY sushi at some friends' house. Miso drunk from teacups, gyozo dumplings, a 100 pack of disposable chopsticks, wasabi peas, geisha mix. Strips of avocado, pepper, cucumber, Chinese white raddish. Prawns, crabsticks, salmon. A vat of sticky sushi rice. We made roll after roll, some more successfully than others, and I had a chance to try out some sushi moulds I was given for my last birthday. We finished it off by sampling some Japanese sweets and glasses of some very strong Japanese spirit that M had brought back from his last trip to Japan.

He leaves for Japan for his year long placement on Tuesday. I'm trying not to think about it.

East in the West

Saturday afternoon at the Kyoto Garden in Holland Park, West London. M was practising for Japan, I was there for the sunshine, the ice-cream and to oggle the massive fish.

Without M

This is how I spend my days. Photographing flowers from my mother's garden. Tulips that seem lifted straight from a Dutch oil painting, vases of the softly tinted blooms taken home to droop languidly over my dressing table as the week goes on. Lying under the fruit trees, level with the forget-me-nots as the grass prickles my bare arms. In an emerald silk dress at a green themed East London house warming, drinking mojitos packed full of mint leaves and worrying about the night bus home alone. Lounging on the grass on a Sunday afternoon with Anna in the garden of the Camden Arts Centre, an oasis of green calm raised above the Finchley Road, eating delectable little cakes stuffed with almonds and red berries and sipping lurid yellow chamomile tea. Stewing rhubarb with sugar and lemon peel, letting it cool, then spooning it over fridge-cold homemade yoghurt for my breakfast. Visiting the Very Sanderson exhibition with Dad on a muggy London afternoon, loving the vintage wallpaper, bemoaning the lack of postcards featuring the designs in the gift shop afterwards. Watching 'I am love' (Io sono l'amore) on a Wednesday evening, utterly absorbed by the opulent Italian interiors, breathtaking landscapes, stunning cinematography. Immersing myself in 'Captain Corelli's Mandolin' for the first time, devouring the pages and wishing myself away to a sunlight filled Greek island whilst crammed onto rush hour trains or waiting for buses. Composing lengthy emails to M in my lunchbreak, laughing at tales of pickled sea cucumber, raw scallops and coffee from cans when I receive his responses in return. Lighting scented candles before bedtime, drifting around my room in my nightie, writing thoughts on scraps of paper, remembering to floss. Thinking of him often, but managing not to mope.

The Volcano, the Flight Ban and the Boy Who Missed the Cherry Blossom Festival

Once there was a boy who was looking forward to three weeks in Japan. He was meant to be arriving on a Friday morning, enjoying the local cherry blossom festival on the Saturday, and recovering from jet lag over the weekend ready to attend a series of collaboration meetings on High Energy Physics the following week.

He packed his bag, kissed his girlfriend goodbye, made his way to the airport...then heard that British airspace had been closed on account of atmospheric ash from an Icelandic volcano, and that no flights would be leaving the UK that day.

A week and a few more false starts later, airspace is once again open (photographic evidence above - spot the tiny vapour trail!) and M is finally off to Japan today. He missed the cherry blossom festival, and all of the meetings, but will be there for the next three weeks to undergo safety training, meet senior researchers and generally find out a bit more about the projects he will be working on for his year long placement, which starts in the autumn.

He may even catch the last of the blossom, before it flitters away, for if it is still flowering in the streets surrounding my house, as it was yesterday evening when these photos were taken, then perhaps it will still be flowering in Japan?

Have a wonderful trip M, and here's hoping you get to see some of this stuff...