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: Saitama, Narita Airport, Fiumicino-Rome, Cagliari. Goodbye Japan.

(Today 2 photos ...)

I wonder why the day of departure, I still sucks. I wonder why.

[ flashback in last night and over ]

anxiety I have never given up since yesterday evening when the heat got to prepare for the luggage, I spent too little time with Shiho. I would have to prepare it for a few days earlier, a suitcase, or set to begin the preparation, but my laziness a thousand things to do led me to be as usual the last minute .

I do a lot of things, take pictures of the building, the elevator photos, pictures all'androne, photos, the surroundings, with the stand at night do the shooting from the building, elevator, all'androne, the surroundings, with stand, at night, and this house that seemed so incredible when I arrived it seemed more normal when I was there and now I seem to incredible new , and I want to do a lot of photos to remember it, but there is little light and I use a tripod, there is no time. I'm just an idiot ...

Then there is the madness of packing but it is only imaginary, but real enough to give me concern and anxiety: I forget something, but then I think in reality there is nothing so fundamentally important that it is worth bothering to remember ...

E 'already one in the morning, maybe later, I wake up at 6 tomorrow, and Shiho already sleeping. Even tonight I'm late, I fell asleep with her . I spent many hours of most of my nights awake Japanese, to redefine and upload photos and write travel diaries, and when I went to bed were 3 or 4, and Shiho already asleep. I thought, not write the blog tomorrow , tomorrow will not write it. I have not kept his promise and is already last night.

(Photo by Shiho ) When traveling to Japan are a ball and chain because of this fucking blog. Thousand photos a day, a thousand movies a day, keep receipts of all, as soon as you check in at the hotel you can not touch the room to do the movie because Nicola and photos , with little light, with stand, and then there's the photo and the movie to the lobby to the exterior, then the photos at the restaurant with dishes that need to be religiously photographed before being touched, and then processes the photos, store brochure of everything, then every night until 3 or 4, the post newspaper.

Shiho But I have always borne and supported stoically, even at the end of every journey always brings out a bunch of receipts that do not know how he kept my place on the blog.

I leaned out of the building, including a photo and the other ...

Autumn Japanese gets colder, the trains pass ever, long lines of light in the midst of the placid urban landscape. The air is clean, I can breathe properly. Here, again I think how I will miss this place, how little time I spent with Shiho and what I will miss her. The night before departure is the usual symphony of ' I could .

I could take more pictures (but I have taken 4594 (!) But I know that when I do I will post its always a glimpse ...), I could shoot more movies (I brought home 12 hours videos in HDV 1080i, but it is the same), I could take that fucking Thunder Dolphin to Suidobashi, instead of continuing to watch aghast as a shrinking violet, I could wake up soon in a few days and maybe go shopping with the mother of Shiho (but never when I happen to be able to go shopping with a housewife Japanese in Japan ...), I would rather not meet people who I met, I could see places I've seen ...

( Photo by David Cassanelli ) I could take that picture idiot who was laughing, I could have been photographed in that pose by Shiho demented, I could not get angry that time, I could always smile and enjoy every minute, every second for the second time this month has flown by very long, relentlessly, since then when I come here I realize that he was in paradise and not being aware of ...

Japan I look out there and everything returns to be "incredible ", the road, traffic lights, the strips on the floor, the lights ... Like any "last day" I hope with all my might that not be the last of my life.

[ end of flashback ]

It's already days. Shiho is already up that is beautiful, they're all already standing. I take a shower, get dressed, close the bag securely to forget something, but it's just the usual setting. And here I am on the road. With my suitcase keep pace supported because we have to take the bus to the airport. I'm used to moving with "equity", in Italy, view the complete inefficiency or better absence of public transport, and know to take public transport that is that I there is or there party at that end of the world, it gives me anxiety. The father walks ahead of Shiho us, with his usual enthusiasm, as if to clear the road of obstacles before our passage. Bring the bike at his side, now go to work by bicycle.

[ This photo dates back to the start of last year, but so is the same as this year: the same bus, same place, same people in the same positions and with same attitudes, there was only a little more hot ] arrival at the station, where it stops the Limousine Bus to Narita, and as if by magic is the brother of Shiho, KIMIMASA (that guy in the photo above Shiho's father walks behind): we had left at home in my pajamas, and is already here at the station, but he does not know how this gift, he "appears " in places, like when we were in Nikko, and has appeared suddenly, or when we were in Ueno to eat ramen. He is shy, and like last year, walking with his head down away from everyone, without approaching.

[Same as above] Father of Shiho, Takashi, removes the tape from his backpack cartarinfrangente, what we use when it goes on a bike, it gives me. If I could give away the world.

Shiho and her mother on the bus go up with us, we KIMIMASA saluta a modo suo, mentre Takashi comincia a seguire il bus con la bicicletta. continua a salutare, e ci segue per diverse centinaia di metri, aiutato dai semafori. Mi dice di tornare, di tornare, pedala a più non posso per stare dietro il bus e saluta, dice di tornare.

Ti voglio bene, papà-san .

Stesso tragitto dell'anno scorso. Arriviamo alla stazione di Soka, per caricare altri viaggiatori. Ci sono sempre gli studenti in divisa che vanno a scuola, uomini e donne in abito che vanno al lavoro, le casalinghe affacciate al balcone che sbattono i futon. Quanto amo questo mondo, quanto mi fa male lasciarlo.

E all'aeroporto, the same old thing. I hate the departure hall of Terminal 1 at Narita: passed the security checks you go downstairs, and who has accompanied you watching you go down those escalators from behind glass. I call them " escalators of tears" on the one hand help you on an escalator because physically you can not dwell forever to say goodbye to your loved ones, but on the one hand are as atrocious as they are a guillotine that separates you from the unforgiving world that you're leaving.

When no one I know sees me more, I can finally cry .

And again this year arrivo all'immigrazione in lacrime. Dannato aeroporto...

Ah, ecco le uniche due foto che ho scattato oggi...

Il solito Boeing 777 Alitalia che mi riporterà a casa. " Ostuni ", ma come cazzo si fa a chiamare un aereo " Ostuni "??

No scusate Ostuniesi, Ostuni è bellissima ma io sono incazzato, sto partendo.

Arrivederci Giappone, grazie ancora di tutto.