Arrival in Tokyo after a 13 hour flight from Toronto. I slept most of the way because I had no sleep the night before packing and getting ready for the trip, watched a few Canadian docs, and started practicing my broken Japanese with a mother and daughter team who sat beside me and had very little English.

Two taste memories I will remember today.

A lovely meal at the Ootoya restaurant in Tokyo which is perfect for a good reasonably priced meal. Most people eating there were solo so you don’t feel uncomfortable going in alone and I love the food. It is a chain and the brand is more upscale in New York.

My friend Makiko met me at the Shinjuku train station (I took the efficient limousine bus from Haneda to Shinjuku). She was there to meet me and help me with my luggage. I had a lot of luggage for the photo shoot for the book. She helped me get a cab to my apartment and bring up my luggage.

Makiko also left me a home made breakfast of miso soup, rice and pickles and a muffin. In my exhausted jet lagged state I thanked her but I appreciated it even more when I woke up way too early this morning and hungry.

I am touched by the kindness and generosity of friends and strangers, especially when I travel. There is nothing like being away from home and being made to feel like you are  home.

What is home anyway?

I don’t have a home these days so I ask myself this question often. It is often not where I expect it to be and am disappointed.

It is usually where there is a welcoming with love and comfort, and often this welcoming and love comes in the form of food as it’s carrier. This is home today. Xo

Also published on Medium.