For ten days, we race around the country, often unsure of our exact location.
Coming as we did from near-summer in Australia to near-winter in Japan, the angle of light and the shortness of the days strike me most; when we arrive at our destination for the night, as often as not it is getting dark, the shadows are deep.
But between the rushing forward, there are moments of tranquility; even in the bustle of cities, among the crowded tourist spots, the giant car parks full of buses.
A time for prayer; an ice cream cone; a flight of birds; an evening shower.
But of course, there is always another station; another train.
And once again, we rush. This time, homeward.