I boarded a Qatar Airways flight out of Narita at 22:25 on Saturday night. With a connection in Doha, the journey to Munich would take about 23 hours.
I landed in Munich a little after two on Sunday afternoon. It had been a long time since I had seen my friend. He had left Japan five months earlier and ridden all the way from Russia into Europe, and now here we were, meeting again on a German street corner. It felt unreal.
Munich in late September was in the middle of Oktoberfest. The Theresienwiese was packed, and brass bands and cheering spilled out of the huge beer tents. We spent the evening wandering the grounds: a party on the eve of our ride.
Tomorrow morning I would pick up the bike. The Alps were finally close.