When I first arrived in Japan in 2003, I thought I had some idea of what I was stepping into. I’d travelled, I’d read the guidebooks, I’d watched the films. I assumed living abroad was simply “life, but different” — familiar enough, just with new scenery. What I didn’t understand was that Japan doesn’t just offer a different lifestyle. It offers an entirely different logic! And it took me years to realise how much of that logic I misunderstood at the start.

I couldn’t tell you the exact moment Japan became home.

Maybe it was when I upgraded my living quarters and moved into a high-rise condominium in Ikebukuro. Perhaps it was when Ayako and I got married… Whenever it happened, there was no ceremony, no milestone, no neat line between the life I thought was temporary and the one that had so very quietly become permanent.

I never planned to live in Japan. In fact, the idea barely crossed my mind beyond the films and books that coloured my teens with distant images of neon streets and quiet temples.

London was home, music was my entire world, and my future felt mapped out in rehearsals, concert halls, and late-night practice rooms. But life has a way of nudging you sideways.