I was able to catch my breath and get my mind in order on the hour Shuttle Bus ride to the airport to begin my month long adventure in Japan. The trip at this point was routine enough, and the driver let me off at the proper place to enter and check my bag. I checked my bag, got my boarding pass, went through routine inspection by the TSA and located my gate.I expected that I would get on the Jumbo Jet, it would fly to Canada for a quick stop, and then off we would head for Narita. When the boarding agent called for us to load the plane, I wondered why I didn't see a large jet out the window. Then I wondered why we were going down some stairs to the tarmac..."Really? Seriously?" we were going to get on a prop plane to make a 35 minute flight to Canada. Then, we would change planes to get on the Boeing 777 Jumbo Jet. I had only flown a handful of times before, and had never been on a plane with outward propellers before. The plane was fairly small, and the flight attendant was a personable blonde, so I buckled in for the short flight. When we arrived, I knew that I was in a foreign land because there were mainly Japanese folks, and barely any English spoken. I was right. We were in Canada. Undoubtedly this was the area where the Japanese gathered to catch a flight home.
I had a nice flight on the 777. It seems that they must have booked every other seat, because it seemed that everyone had an empty seat next to them The plane was very quiet. Hardly any conversations going on. Folks just keeping to themselves, watching the touchscreen monitors on the seatbacks in front of them, where they had a selection of movies, TV, music, or maps and GPS of the flight for the 9 hours and 20 minutes we would be in th air. I tried to nap during the four or five movies that I put on, but that was only slightly effective. The flight attendants were constantly busy plying us with coffee (Kohi), tea or Coke (Kola as the Japanese called it) and two full meals. It was a wonderfully smooth and uneventful flight, quite unlike the one I took to Vermont the year before, where the plane shook, shuddered and dipped so bad you spent all night wondering if you were really going to make it.
I filled out my customs forms, and asked the flight attendant where I should go after I get off of the plane. She said "Just follow the crowd"...But the crowd moved so fast! I worked hard to keep up for fear of getting lost. There was a beautiful mural just inside the airport after you get off the plane that said "welcome to Japan", that I would have loved to have gotten a picture of, but I didn't dare get seperated from the crowd, so I kept going. Then we were in a large room with a large crowd of people, and a long counter. Everything was written in Kanji, the traditional writing of Japan of course, so I had no idea where to go or what to do. I was the only non japanese person in sight, so I stood there and looked around dumbly, not quite sure what to do. Finally a Japanese guard saw me looking quite lost, and took me by the arm (I was hoping that was a good thing, and not that I looked like a criminal), and removed the barracade tape that kept the crowd in an orderly line, and personally led me in front of the crowd to a line of one other person that was labeled VIP. I am not sure why I got taken to that line, but I got waited on right away. The took my paperwork for customs and had me fill out an immigration form. They had me look through a hole in a board at the counter, which I am assuming was a retinal scan, and okayed me to go beyond the counter and try to find my luggage. I felt very fortunate. The Rolling Stones tried for years to enter Japan. Paul McCartney was refused entrance to Japan. Paris Hilton was just recently refused entrance to Japan. Yet here I was, escorted ahead of everyone else to the front of a VIP line and allowed entrance.
My son was going to meet me at baggage claim. He was nowhere to be found. I looked everywhere. Well...I guess I will just get my bag and see if he shows up. Nope, and once I had my bag, they wanted me to get checked by customs. No problem, but then I had to leave the baggage area. Hmmm. Now I was in the main terminal, like I am about to leave the airport. I wandered from one end to the other. No Adam. I stopped at some of the counters to see if I could use a phone. They were very polite, spoke a little english and told me that they didn't have a phone that I could use. I went to the Information Desk and asked a very fine young lady there the same question. She said "no", but she could page him for me. No Adam. She asked if she should page him again. "Sure, thanks". Nothing. She pointed out the payphones to me as US cell phones don't work in Japan. This was fine, but I didn't have any Japanese currency. I located the money exchange counter, filled out the appropriate forms as best I guessed they should be filled out, handed the gentleman ten US Dollars and recieved some coins. I finally figured out how the japanese coin phones worked and was able to place a call to Adam's japanese cell phone. He was trying to get to the airport, but was still at least an hour and a half away. He advised that I could take the bus or wait for him. This brought images of me being lost somewhere in Tokyo, not knowing where to go, not being able to read the signs or talk to the people to find a resolution for my situation. "I will wait for you" I told him, "you're already out headed this way". The phone then abruptly went dead. Apparently my 100 yen of time was up. I sat on the bench, envisioning spending the night there in a strange place with a strange language and strange writing. At least it was quiet. Not like America, where everything is noisy and all hustle and bustle. I fell asleep sitting on the bench, waiting to see what happens next. "From the Taxi ride till now, what an interesting experience" I was thinking as I was passing out from lack of sleep and exhaustion.
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