Ulysses wanted to see one more time the smoke coming up from his chimney to feel that he had returned home; smoke works the same for me but with one difference: it is not the smoke coming from a chimney but mine in the smoking room right outside Narita’s arrivals’ entrance. One pipe, the first after twelve hours over Asia and a tea from the vending machine are the irrefutable proof that I’m in Japan.
(For a bigger version of this picture both in color and black and white, check my "Japan Arekore" set on Flickr)
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