We were supposed to be heading to Tokyo. Tickets booked, itinerary set in stone (Kat uses spreadsheets with 6-minute time slots), dreams of unlimited vending machines, and plans to buy at least two robots were beginning to crystallise. But instead, this past week has spiralled into a saga of airline shenanigans, natural disasters, and – because why not – a nuclear situation.

9 March 2011
The first clue that this trip might be cursed came courtesy of Virgin Airlines, who decided to change the departure time of our flight by seven hours. When I explained that we’d now miss our connecting flight by several hours, the Virgin rep casually informed me, “We’re allowed to change our schedule – we don’t have to make sure everyone gets their perfect holiday.”
Cheers, Virgin. I didn’t want a perfect trip anyway. I wanted a trip that required an element of time-travel to work. Thank you for delivering.

Still, we were determined. Monkey-waiter cafes and the neon glow of a Cyberpunk city awaited us. New flights were booked, and everything seemed back on track. What could possibly go wrong?

Later on 9 March 2011
“Japan hit by a tsunami,” screamed the headlines.

Except… it was 60cm.

Surely “Japan was today hit by a smallish wave” is more accurate?
Or:
“Surf conditions in Japan today are excellent.”

I was still hoping it was Godzilla stirring beneath the waves. Maybe just a quick stretch as he woke up. If he didn’t stomp at least a little bit of Tokyo while we were there, I’d be genuinely disappointed.

I even joked, “Hopefully the post-Godzilla radiation will have settled somewhere around ‘superhero origin story’ levels by the time we arrive.”

Of course, the full scale of what was coming hadn’t yet become clear.

11 March 2011
Two days later, the Tōhoku earthquake and the tsunami that followed tore through Japan. The damage was far-reaching, with entire towns swept away and a nuclear crisis unfolding at Fukushima. What once seemed like a minor inconvenience now felt alarmingly real.

That earlier post about the tiny tsunami? It hasn’t aged well.

16 March 2011
So, we cancelled.

When all the governments of the world are shouting out some version of, “Get out of Tokyo, get out NOW!” – you listen. Even if it means binning months of planning, a lovingly colour-coded itinerary, and our dreams of returning home with a suitcase full of impossible gadgets, a robot best friend, and maybe even a selfie with Godzilla.

Instead, we’ve booked a last-minute trip to New Zealand.
Land of Hobbits, earthquakes, and at last count, two active volcanoes.
Because if you can’t go to one tectonically unstable island, you might as well try another.

Wish us luck.

As a side note: the trip to New Zealand went well. I did get bitten by a lion, kicked by a goat, spat on by an alpaca, and licked by a giraffe. And Virgin cancelled our flight home. But those are stories for another time.