So, Tokyo.

It is amazing how one country can be so many. A bit like China and Shanghai, Switzerland and Geneva, I guess.

It's as the Shinkansen pulled into Kobe and filled up with businessmen that I felt the change. We'd moved from gentle Japan to hard-liners' business district. The land where women are simple tea and biscuit servers, especially when they have a proper university degree. And even better when it's the same one their boss has. Or higher.

Since I arrived in Japan, no one had touched me, in one way or another. Not a brush, not an accidental shove, nothing. No human contact. Nada. Niet. Nix. It was as if I had the plague, or then perhaps my space was just being respected.

Today, however, that changed.
I stood on a foot passenger's bridge, squeezing my bag between the railing and myself, taking some pictures of a grey building soaked in rain, when suddenly, out of the blue, a hard something hit my head, tangled into my hair just a bit and then moved forward, away from me. A man, in a dark suit, noticed his umbrella pulling out of my hair. He barely turned, mumbled something and then continued walking as if I wasn't worthy of notice, rather just in the way of his umbrella.

I've left the polite, kind, gentle and careful Japan behind, with its smiling strangers, kneeling waitresses and smooth people. Now I'm in samurai land. Grey high-rises. Monochrome walls. Empty eyes filled with money.

I'm happy I went to Hiroshima.
I'm glad I discovered that side of this country before landing between these cold walls.

I was lucky enough to meet two most wonderful ex-pats here today. Francis and Christopher. Lovely people, full of Japanese experiences, knowledge and understanding. And both of them generous enough to share their time with me.

We'll see what Tokyo will bring in the coming days.
Hopefully not as much racism as in the rest of the country though.