My kind of tune

The piper who led us in to dinner was particularly accomplished. Indeed, one of my fellow guests at the top table remarked that they had heard him play at a recent Highland games. The piper’s kilt was of the Royal Stewart tartan; that of my host, a charming Scot, was Flower of Scotland. I was in a good mood because I was back in my favourite country, a place where both whisky and golf are venerated by the majority of the male population. Yes, I was back in Japan.

I was in Tokyo for a brief visit to speak at the British Chamber of Commerce in Japan’s annual dinner, which also raised more than Y3m (£24,700) for the earthquake disaster relief fund. I also spoke at a dinner the night before for the Association of Women in Finance, so it was a packed schedule that didn’t leave much room for anything other than enjoying the exceptional threadcount of my suite at the InterContinental.

One of the many things that I love about Japan is that not much really changes. Two notable recent exceptions though are that my fellow columnist Tyler Brûlé has opened a Monocle shop on the Aoyama-dori, which I dutifully visited, and that British Airways has started flying into Haneda five times a week. Hurrah! Why has it taken them so long?

Alas, the timing of my commitments in Tokyo meant that I had to travel out on one of the two days the new route doesn’t operate, so I was in a packed 747 to Narita, a full 79km from Tokyo. Admittedly I was in First and so I was at the front of the immigration queue, but surely anyone in their rightmind would travel on BA’s Airbus to Haneda, a mere 14km from the city centre and with far fewer passengers being processed through the new international terminal.

The flight from the UK arrives early in the morning so you can get a whole day’s work done, although admittedly the return flight departs at the somewhat ungodly hour of 6.25am. But, since check-in opens at 4.15am, you could just stay up really, really late and go straight to the airport.

There are plenty of good places in Tokyo that allow you to do that, as I reminded myself during my trip. Although, at the age of 49-and-a-half, I might have thought late-night revelling was no longer for me.

I was wrong. I did not have a drink at the BCCJ event until after I spoke, which meant I was three hours behind everyone else. Attempting to catch up by mainlining champagne, I still thought I was far too sober by the time the afterparty kicked off in the 36th floor bar of the InterContinental. I moved swiftly on to (several) vodka and tonics.

I finally went to sleep at 4.30am. I know this because I sent an email just before switching off the light. It was a Friday night, the company was excellent, I was in a great mood, I had no responsibilities to get home to and so – literally and metaphorically – I let my hair down.

Needless to say I didn’t feel so great when I woke up. I was also inexplicably determined to use the two free hours I had to get my legs waxed. This is not easy in Tokyo.

When I lived there, only one such salon existed and although there are a few more now, waxing is not something that Japanese women go in for much. In the end, two Japanese ladies went over one leg each with minute patches of hot wax and then, with typical Japanese thoroughness, tweezers. It hurt.

When I got back to the UK, I sent the hotel’s general manager – our afterparty host – a bow tie and instructions on how to tie it. He wears lovely double-cuff shirts, black patent shoes, and a beautifully cut dinner jacket, so why spoil it with something ready-tied? Plus there is something about untied bow ties late at night that looks rather charming and dissolute, Bond-style, which always goes down well with women called Moneypenny.

mrsmoneypenny@ft.com

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