追伸 - Postscript

But then what happened?!

Goodbye Kiss

Okay; it's been over a week since we returned from Japan, and I figured it was time to get the last Japan related post done. This one includes travel home pictures, as well as a map highlighting a number of the places we went and even routes we took to go to them. That last morning in Japan was a sad one, and we still miss Tokyo very much. We took as long as we thought we could get away with in the room. Watching out the window, even as a window washing gantry went by. The person wasn't in front of our window, but we weren't, thankfully, putting on any kind of show anyway. It was, however, thanks to the gantry cables that we noticed how cool Mount Fuji looked during the day too.

Mount Fuji, seen during the day, from our hotel room

Chopsticks with coins attached

As it approached checkout time, we gathered our bags, and headed down to the lobby, for the last time. As we walked through the hall, and on the elevator we recounted some pleasurable thoughts from our trip, such as the Japanese woman in the elevator that held the door for The Art Girl and said (with an accent), "Hurry up you!" Then there was when I bought a bunch of stuff at 7-Eleven to bring back (some for then, some for later) and the woman said, "Ooh, you hungry?" I can only imagine how strange we must have been to them. Wandering around, taking pictures of the strangest things, laughing at things that don't seem very funny, whooping it up looking at all the latest trends for Japanese teenagers, and unnaturally belting out "Ohayo gozaimas!" (Good morning!) when strolling into a store. How funny my 'American accent' must have been when I spoke to them in Japanese, but it seemed to delight them that I tried anyway.

After checkout, I broke my last ¥10,000 note down into various bills, but mostly into coins. I had a plan for adorning some of the gifts I bought with coins attached using silk cord. Plus, the designs, colors, and textures of the coins were really interesting, and it felt more worthwhile if they came from Japan, rather than a local currency exchange. We also picked up some more of those delicious macaroons, from the hotel, to give as gifts.

From the car en route to the airport

Still with another hour before our ride was due to pick us up for the airport, we sat in the lobby and watched the people around us. It was fun seeing the faces of fresh arrivals still awestruck by their first exposure to Japan and its people. One group, in particular, appeared to be from somewhere in Europe, perhaps Denmark, was milling about in the lobby taking in everything. Watching them we wished that was us, at the beginning of our trip, not the end, but we wouldn't trade our experiences and memories for anything. Before our reflection could go on too long, our transportation arrived and quickly rushed us into their vehicle, and promptly reminded us of how bad traffic is around Tokyo.

The ride to Narita International Airport took an hour and a half, and we took a few pictures along the way. Our ride from Narita a week prior was at night, so this time we got to see more on the route. Not unlike back home, it looked a lot like driving along any freeway; businesses, industrial areas, parks, et al. lined the roadway. The Art Girl and I spent most of this time with our own thoughts.

Here are some of the pictures that turned out the best from our ride:

Wowow!

Static picture of the interactive map (link to right)

The interactive map I put together includes the location of many of the photos seen in this blog, as well as some of the more regular or significant walking routes we used in Shinjuku, Shibuya, Harajuku, and Tokyo Dome City. You can access the map by clicking here: https://mapsengine.google.com/map/edit?mid=zOUun-OLazCw.k4akRE8dtvXA

On arrival to Narita, we gathered our bags, and bid our drivers farewell (there were two, presumably one was either in training, or was there because she spoke better English than the actual driver). A quick exchange of 'arigato' and a couple bows later we were treading into the building. The look was fairly similar to what we're used to at O'Hare in Chicago; most signs included English, and there were check-in kiosks lined up. Unfortunately, however, we had not done the online check-in and didn't have our e-ticket numbers, so we found someone to help us figure out where to go. Just a few steps from the entrance there were other people to help people get checked in.

Last minute shopping? But of course!

Check-in, again, was routine and not unlike back home, except my luggage had gained a significant amount of weight on vacation (like I'm sure I did as well). Fortunately my overweight bag was only a few kilograms high, and they gave us the opportunity to try and balance the weight between my bag and The Art Girl's. Her bag, however, while well under the weight limit, was very tightly packed and had little room to provide. Most of the filling in mine was clothes, so I removed a few articles at a time, and re-weighed my bag while The Art Girl tried to stuff more and more into her bag, with us both eventually adding a few pieces to our carry-on luggage as well. Eventually we got there, and finished our check-in process.

From the bag check, and after a quick stop at the restroom, I started to think about the immigration process. That's when I remembered our embarkation cards that they needed to match us up with the emigration records. "Where was that card," I thought to myself while waiting for The Art Girl to meet back up with me. I started going through my bag and wallet, but couldn't find it anywhere. With me still digging through my belongings, The Art Girl returned, and wondered what I was looking for. After explaining what I was looking for and trying to impart why I was getting panicky, she started looking through her stuff as well.

What felt like a long time passed during all the digging and stressing when The Art Girl asked, "Is it that thing they stapled in our passports?" My mind reeled and I quickly pulled out my passport. Sure enough, there it was, neatly stapled in place. I felt the muscles in my body begin to relax, but I had stressed myself out enough that just resolving the issue wasn't going to be enough. We needed to get through security, and find somewhere that we could get a drink.

Thus, onward to security we went. The whole process was, again, very similar to in the US, except you don't have to remove your shoes, and you feel a little more like a human and less like an animal. You do, however, have to pull out your tablets and phones similar to a laptop, which is worse when you're The Geek and have two tablets, two phones, and a laptop, but not insurmountable. We experienced no issues or delays at security and proceeded to emigration, where again, it was smooth and easy. I tried expressing a humorous thought on thinking I had lost my embarkation card, and while polite, the woman at emigration didn't seem terribly amused, or more likely didn't really follow my string of English sentiment.

Waiting at the gate

Now, technically no longer in Japan, it was time to explore the duty free shops and get something to eat. We had over an hour before our plane boarded, so there was no rush. Just in case you were wondering, the duty free shops are no bargain. Everything costs basically the same, it's just that the store keeps the difference. Plus, being after security and emigration, they know you're a captive audience (just like home). We spotted an awesome pare of ninja shoes (ninja booties as we call them) and almost bought them, but ¥38,000 was just too much.

The food court was fairly busy, and we were at that point of hungry where the first stall was where we ordered (hot ham & cheese and a BLT). Since we were running low on Japanese currency, we did at least take the time to order carefully enough to have enough yen left over for two beers (mine a dark Japanese ale, and The Art Girl's a lager). To further punctuate our state, once the food was ready, I brought it back to our table, and at the same time we each picked up a half of our sandwiches, took a bite, realized we had our sandwiches reversed, set them down, and passed our plates across. It was pretty funny looking back on the synchronization of our actions. Soon after, our stomachs less empty and digesting beer, still clinging to some stress from earlier I began to relax. Off to the gate we went where we relaxed in the mostly quiet terminal.

Our flight with ANA (All Nippon Airways) was smooth and like clockwork. Everyone was loaded onto the plane efficiently, the plane was prepped and all paperwork handled in time for a punctual push-back (something I'm not terribly used to at O'Hare). We proceeded direct to the runway, also refreshing as I'm no stranger to tarmac delays, and took off straight away.

Sunrise over the Pacific Ocean

This time we were flying from Narita to LAX, so our flight was significantly shorter. ANA also had less in-flight entertainment options than the United flight did, but definitely a lot more multi-cultural options, so it was a fair trade-off, I think. Their meals were similar, being handled by the same Gate Gourmet we all know and lover, but they tended to give more fluids less frequently. Not to mention we got to eat our food with actual utensils, rather than flimsy, childlike plastic utensils. It was refreshing to be treated like a human again while flying.

Nearing Los Angeles, overlooking the ocean

The bulk of our flight to LA was at night, but I got very little sleep. The Art Girl did shut her eyes for a while, but certainly not a full night's rest worth. The bulk of my time went to reading "Ender's Game", well getting a good start on it. We also chatted a little with the woman who had the aisle seat in our row, who was on her third of four flights that day going from Cambodia to Arizona. That certainly put some perspective on our single connection day.

Our plane landed in Los Angeles without issue and upon deplaning there were a number of people waiting just outside the jet's door calling out names, one of them called us. Being new to international travel, we hadn't expected it but they provided us with expedited immigration and customs cards. The building concerns of making our connecting flight to Chicago began to fade and we made our way to the immigration lines. Gone was the Japanese politeness, true to the officials in Chicago, the LAX uniformed security staff were despondent, brusque, and repellent. They did, however, direct us towards the special short cut line, which we were grateful for as the regular queues all had at least 50 to 100 people in them; ours had only four.

Again, to our delight, the movies held little amount of reality with the border patrol official reviewing our passports and declaration/immigration cards then waving us through. There was no string of probing questions, or crafty digs to pry into our travels. All those ISO 9000 audits had me prepared, but the build up was for naught. On to baggage claim we went, where we found one of the passengers from our plane; a sizable, aging surfer, who happened to be drunk enough that the flight attendants had cut him off long ago. He was having a difficult time tracking the bags as they went around, and checked every black, standard looking, suitcase to roll by. First he spotted a cardboard box that was presumably his then a camouflaged gym bag. We spied The Art Girl's luggage and I hoisted it from the carousel for her. Not long after I could see mine traveling towards us. Drunken Surfer honed in on it, despite the bright yellow plastic bags I had tied to mine to make it easier to distinguish, and was trying to grab it. I moved in announcing, "It's mine," and, "that's my bag," a few times, but he seemed determine, until I grabbed hold of it and hauled it away from his grasp. He stumbled out a few words about them all looking so similar (despite significant size, shape, and adornment differences), but we just let it go and headed to customs.

Continuing to dispel Hollywood, there was little ceremony with the Customs official. We pulled our bags over, said a friendly "Hello," handed him our declaration card and waited for a few moments. The cheerful, yet authoritative looking man, skimmed both sides of the card, double checked our passports, and said, "Welcome home," with a smile. It seemed we were going to have no trouble making our connecting flight after all. Just around the corner from there was a baggage re-check station and shortly after we were once again waiting at a gate.

Upon finding a seat, The Art Girl and I had a prompt reminder of the differences back home compared to where we were. There was so much noise and obnoxiousness going on around us it was beyond comparison. Our plane was already there and unloading, so I was grateful that I wasn't going to wait long to get out of the mayhem. Just to accentuate the situation a gate attendant used the PA to announce information about carry-on bags, "We have a full flight today. When we begin boarding this plane, your carry-on must look like it will fit to me. If it does not look like it will fit I will check it with this," she referenced a sizing box, "and if it is too big, we will check your bag and you will go to the back of the line." Her tone was stern, and brash, "That includes first class. I don't care who you are, double check your carry-on now and if it isn't going to fit, see me to check your bag." On and on she went, repeating herself, "Again, if your bag looks too big, I will pull you out of line, and you will go to the back to wait again."

I wondered, "Why are people always in such a hurry to be in their cramped seats anyway?" Likely it is carry-on storage space I assume, but since I always try to keep my carry-on small enough to fit under the seat in front of me, it isn't really a concern for me. With the woman continuing to bark instructions at us the plane was emptied and cleaned, then came another person apologizing that the pilot was asking to have something looked at closer before boarding and that they would be with us shortly.

We waited, and the crowd grew; there was a flight to Hawaii arriving at the gate in the adjoining waiting area as ours. In front of us was a family of four, husband, wife, and two kids. They seemed like that over-the-top parenting team that does everything by the current trend, and had their anxious kids doing school work on their MacBooks. The two boys were restless, whiny and kicking as they sat or laid across the seats. The thumping noise was starting to be aggravating. Worse, however, was the group that sat behind us. There was an obese woman with many children floating around her (five or six, but it felt like twenty). They were very loud, screaming, running around, bumping into strangers and constantly knocking into our seat backs. The mother was only interested in laying down and not seeming to care about how disruptive the children were.

Now sure, kids will be kids, but this was far over-the-top. Plus, I have this thing where certain noises drive me crazy, especially repetitious sharp sounds accompanied with feeling (such as a shrill squeal followed by a small body abruptly leaning into my seat from behind). It's called Misophonia and it really sucks. Essentially it is an uncontrollable, irrational response to noises that triggers your flight or fight response. Generally speaking when it happens for me, if it doesn't feel like it will end soon I feel the fight urge come on and consciously direct it to flight. Usually by putting in tight fitting ear buds with music going to drown it out, or in this case I ultimately had to physically remove myself, due to the physical component, and went for a walk. On my return I had calmed back down and spotted a better spot to sit, not in the middle of all the chaos.

By this time they had announced that a maintenance crew was coming to fix our plane. No ETA had been provided, but they did direct people who were connecting in Chicago to see their service desk. More and more time went by and we were starting to wonder if we were going to be spending the night in Los Angeles. Another gate attendant, after another thirty or so minutes, showed up and announced that they believe the repairs were complete, but they needed to run an engine test, which would take another thirty minutes. I spotted a woman roll her eyes in disgust and thought to myself, "No, really, let them test the engine! It's kind of important."

At long last we were boarded, and on our way to Chicago in a far from full plane. Most of the connecting people had found other flights, which made for a more relaxing feel on ours. Thoroughly exhausted, both The Art Girl and I fell asleep almost immediately only to wake up a little while later. Unlike our other recent flights there was no meal, or even provided snack, but at least there was a complimentary beverage. Across the aisle from us a person requested a little bottle of red wine and when the flight attendant asked for their credit card they responded, with surprise, "I have to pay for this!?" I'm not sure what rock they had been living under, but they certainly looked old enough to have known better. Either way, it amused us to watch.

You can just make out Chicago in my blurry night shot

More reading of "Ender's Game" for me, and before we knew it, we were over the Chicago area, and again in the dark, but yet only a couple hours since we left Japan. Having come from the future, traveling backward in time and seeing two sunsets was wild. We departed Narita at 5:05 PM on Friday, and were landing in Chicago on Friday at 7:00 PM. If only it had only taken two hours for real. It was also fun seeing the Chicagoland area at night, from the air. It had been a long time since I have seen it like that and it really is pretty. From there we were on the ground, deplaned, and reunited with our luggage in short order. Our wonderful friend 'Ms. Ladybug' and her husband had picked us up and were a welcome sight waiting for us at baggage claim. After a long day of travel, friendly faces at the end are very comforting. Our sincere thanks go out to them for making our transition from airport to home so painless.

The kids, and more the dogs, were beyond excited to see us. Everyone we came across wanted to hear all about everything, and we loved recounting everything in person for them. That night we unpacked and gave our girls all of their gifts. Seeing the delight in their eyes was worth every yen we spent.

We are already talking about trying to figure out how to go somewhere else next year and do this all again, blog included. The next time, though, we hope to take the kids with and allow them exposure to other cultures. We're not sure how to make this possible financially yet, but that's our challenge to overcome. If you have any suggestions on where you would like to read about us going, please comment below, though, right now we're leaning on somewhere in Europe. We'll see.

In the meantime, I bid you a fond farewell and safe travels!

-Geek