Well folks, the time has come—after stuffing myself with kobini delightsand pretending I understood everything being said on the train, I’m reluctantly leaving Japan. The journey begins with a majestic shuffle to Haneda Airport, where I was just hoping for a quiet farewell… but nope, Pokémon ambushed me like it’s 1999 and I forgot to bring a Poké Flute.
After surviving that adorable chaos, I boarded a soul-sucking long-haul flight to Boston. Upon landing, I was greeted with the warm embrace of New England hospitality—by which I mean $400-a-night hotel rooms that may or may not include floors. Thanks, capitalism! Join me as I suffer through jetlag, nostalgia, sorrow, and wallet trauma.
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Jason Gaston 
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