Rejoining 21st century Scotland

It has been over a week since I was reunited with the smell of bacon and brown sauce.

One year spent without a decent hangover cure. One entire year with no TV, no nightlife, no Irn Bru, no bacon. And yet, pangs of nostalgia; I already miss Japan. Its perversions, insane working culture and nuclear-tsunami-quake-a-thon aside, it was a fantastic place to live. Even the wild snares of the cicada, the humongous flying cockroaches they are, is something to be missed. There is an atmosphere in Japan like no other. I don't mean the weight of the humidity, which at times bordered on being completely ridiculous. But an atmosphere, a buzz of something great. Something unified. Whereas most of the buzzing here at home can be traced back to a mobile phone.

I have transformed into something of a prude, I think.