Konnichiwa!
I’ve just returned from Japan — three weeks in the midst of a cultural whirlwind, eating my weight in ramen.

Travelling there is like stepping into the future while being hugged by the past. The trains are so punctual I suspect they’re operated by samurai ghosts with Apple Watches. I boarded the Shinkansen and before I’d unwrapped my onigiri, we were halfway across the country. Back home, buses turn up like a plot twist — unexpected, confusing, and usually late.

As an actor and writer, I was constantly in awe — from the seamless choreography of rush-hour crowds to the zen-like artistry of a convenience store egg sandwich. Yes, even 7-Eleven here deserves a Michelin star.

And the people? Incredibly gracious. You only have to look slightly bewildered for 30 seconds in a railway station (something I quickly mastered), and someone will appear to personally escort you to the correct platform.

On our final day, the hotel receptionist helped us with our luggage, loaded us into a taxi, gave the driver precise instructions, and stood on the footpath bowing as we pulled away. We looked back. He was still bowing. It was strangely moving — my wife and I nearly wept.

I don’t know exactly what it was… but next time I finish a show, I want to bow like that.