One of the schools I teach at is on an island called Mishima. It is a ferry away and the crossing is renowned for being rough. Sure enough, I was treated to a windy day and the sea threw me around for 70 minutes, occasionally lashing me with water. The island seemed like somewhere a horror movie might be set – the wind bellowing through narrow streets that seem to go nowhere in particular and old fishermen peering up from their work with puzzled looks. You also can’t move for the islands flag, it lines the streets and decorates the houses- all the while adding to the eerie atmosphere.