Perhaps in the end the whole point of travel, as my recent two-week excursion in Europe, from Amsterdam up the Rhine to Basel, then by train to Vienna, is that it clears the mind of routine and makes the return home seem somehow a return to a magically new place.
After the glorious but altogether too confident architecture of Vienna, which after a while seemed like living in the midst of the bass section of an orchestra, it was good to return to the scuffy but cozy architecture of sweet old Tokyo.
I've decided to give up my job of inspecting the First Class service of various airlines. Eleven hours in the air from Amsterdam to Tokyo is something to be endured, no matter how pampered. The best solution is simply to sleep. As a parting shot, I will make this recommendation.
Now I think I'll ease back into a routine of sketching and photographing the city and painting.