It was a different sense of isolation from what he normally felt in Japan. And not such a bad feeling, he decided. Being alone in two senses of the word was maybe like a double negation of isolation. In other words, it made perfect sense for him, a foreigner, to feel isolated here. The thought calmed him. He was in exactly the right place.
Haruki Murakami, Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage
expat-life, isolation, travel