This is the Ginza street, Tokyo, ca 1892. The bridge is Nihon-bashi. Horses pulled the streetcar then.

My adventure: I wrote this before, but once I took Eurostar to London to take a 9 pm flight home from Heathrow (the plane from Paris was full). It shouldn't have been a problem, but the train was late by a few hours.

By the time I arrived at Victoria, it was a little after 8 pm. Then there is the immigration. The official asked, "How long do you want to stay in UK, sir?" I said, "Look, sir, I don't want to stay here. Let me go home!" He was nice enough to let me go immediately. But, when I tried to buy a tube ticket, the clerk laughed at the pound notes I had, "Mate, you can't use thse notes anymore!" I had to go back and changed money. I arrived at Paddington at 8:25.

On the Heathrow Express, I double checked that the train would go to the Terminal where my plane was supposed to be. The instant the train arrived at Heathrow, I dashed, ran like hell to the Terminal. Something was strange, however. There was not JAL counter. I asked the Swiss counter staff where my airline counter was. Suddenly, everybody looked up at me and said, "You must go to Terminal 3, sir." I realized I was at Terminal 2. "How could...," I meant to say "this happen to me!?!" But realizng Swiss staff were still watching, I said, "...I get to Terminal 3?" "Get back to where you came from." "Very well, thank you." I left, as calmly and confidently as I could.  Of course I missed the plane.

I will become a patissier, God willing.