My trip home, a.k.a the disaster

Well, that didn't go according to plan. I was supposed to fly home for a couple of days, say hello to friends and family, have a meeting with TCD about an English language course for our students, then fly on to a conference in Holland on bilingualism.
I arrived on Friday evening. By Sunday evening I had the flu in all its feverish glory. Plus jet-lag. My poor body didn't know what the hell was going on. I was due to fly to Holland on Tuesday lunchtime, but the closest I got was the kitchen of my parent's house for another mug of lemsip. So, I changed my flight, paid 40 euro to do so, and emailed the conference organizers to explain my absence.
Unfortunately, I couldn't change my flight back to Japan on the Friday. The last thing I wanted to do was spend close on 24 flu-y hours traveling back to Muroran, but what could I do?
Out to Dublin airport for a 9:00 clock flight. Which didn't leave until 13:00 as the Aer Lingus plane I was supposed to fly on was "late leaving Manchester". Which meant I missed my connecting flight in Amsterdam to Osaka. And did Aer Lingus make amends? Do they ever? A 5 euro voucher which, it turned out, we couldn't use on the flight to Amsterdam, and couldn't use in Amsterdam airport either.
And I was already feeling like shite.
At Amsterdam the very nice woman at KLM managed to get me on a flight to Tokyo but not until the following day. So I got to spend the night at the Schipol Airport Ibis Hotel.
God, but that was shite too. Soul destroyingly shite (the flu have taken care of my body).
The plane to Tokyo was packed (surprisingly for February) but I don't recall much more as I took two zolpidem and willingly knocked myself out for most of the flight.
Got to Narita to find I had a five and a half hour wait for my connecting flight to Sapporo as my original flight had been cancelled. This I didn't need nor want so I stumped up the big yen, paid for a ridiculously expensive earlier flight to Sapporo and hoped my travel insurance would cover it.
The train from Chitose to Muroran was full of excitable Chinese tourists so I had to stand the whole way back. Sanae and Cian were waiting for me at the station which blunted the edge of the previous 24 hours.
And then the reverse jet-lag kicked in and after going to bed and 10:30 that night I was wide awake again at 1:00am. Couldn't fall back asleep at all and then it was off to the university and a frantic attempt to catch up on all the work that had accumulated in my absence.
And it is only now, Saturday evening, a week later, that my body and soul are letting out a collective sigh and embracing something that resembles normality.
Never again.