The Road Goes Ever On And On

What a day yesterday was. 24 hour of straight traveling and maybe 8 hours of sleep in the past 48 hours. I would love to recount this stressful, yet fun, journey as it is.

Early Sunday morning, I awoke after having roughly 4 hours of sleep. But I woke to waffles, which Mark had made, lifting my morning woes temporarily. I ate with Ashlyn and Jake, and they were acting as wild as ever, not really understanding what it means for me to be leaving. My mom knew, though, and I could tell she was on the verge of tears. Sad but comforting to know someone loves you, even if you are on the other side of the world.

We got to the airport around 10:20 AM. The very first thing I do is swipe my passport at the Delta kiosk, and it doesn't work. Expected, I guess. As I walk to the friendly-fondlers (TSA), my family (Mom, Mark, the Kids, Papa and Anne, and Nannie) wave me off. Mom decided to stick around a little longer, taking pictures. I'm sure pictures of someone standing in line is worthy of Pulitzer Prize.

The plane for Detroit takes off, and as soon as it reached its max altitude, it begins to descend. Short flight. A lady sitting next to me begins to talk with me while the plane is taxiing. She tells me she is from Trevor, Michigan, and pulls out her hand to show me where it was. I laughed when she did this, because I remember Jordan showing me the same hand-trick that Wisconsoners use, only Wisconsin uses the left hand, while Michigan uses the right. I can only think of one body part that justifies Tennessee's geography.

The Detroit International Airport was fun. To get to Corridor A, I had to go under the runway. The tunnel over to A was magnificent. It was long and the architecture was aquatic like, with blue-lit walls. As I ascend and approach my terminal, the Houston Texans and New Orleans Saints are projected on a ginormous screen. I sit and watch the game for awhile before I decide to walk around the airport. My plane from Knoxville had landed at around 1 and the plane to Tokyo wouldn't leave till about 4.

I get on the intimidatingly huge 747, go to my seat, and prep however one can prep for a 13 hour flight. We watched 4 movies (some stupid Drew Berrymore movie, one with Russel Brand, Rio, and the King's Speech). That some what kept my attention on the flight, whenever I wasn't trying to doze off, that is. When the stewardess came out with food, in my head, I felt like a dog in a kennel. I was excited every time they came out, and they came out at just the right time, all the time (dinner, mid flight snack, pre-arrival meal). People seem to always complain about airplane food, but I love it, and I loved it this time. Chicken, cold bananas, and omelets -- oh! it was good.

During the entire flight, the sun never set. Not until we landed in Narita International Airport. And this is where the fun truly begins. Before we landed, I began to plan out what I needed to do. Customs, baggage, money exchange, and then find the rail system. I breeze through the first three steps, but a failed at the last one, which became a theme for the rest of the evening.

The first train needed to get me to Tokyo station. So after 20 minutes of staring at a booth, I summon up the courage to ask where in the hell do I need to go. The worker spoke English, and got me the ticket I needed. It was no trouble, really, getting on the first train, an express train that went straight from the airport to Tokyo. Not many people were on it, and I had time to collect my thoughts for the next adventure. How two years of Japanese could not have prepared me for it.

Tokyo Station was a flippin zoo. I felt like I walked into a marching band competition, only without any instruments and more rapid movements. I have the slightest clue what I am doing, and I simply try to make my way to the Shinkansen (Bullet Train). After buying the wrong ticket at a kiosk, I walk up to a (maybe) ticket office, and ask in Japanese one of the clerks if she can speak English. She hardly does, and I had to resort to 3 year old Japanese with her. After miming a few words, things work out and I have a ticket. So...now what?

The very first person I ask where my train is told me they were not Japanese, as I asked them in Japanese. She told me she wasn't Japanese in short form, so I'm pretty sure I offended her and made a clear ass of my self. I feel bad, but I gotta truck on. I ask a guy wearing a funny suit with a funny hat that looked like some Halloween police officer. He turned out to be a train coordinate and helped me find where I needed to go. I get on, and bam! off to Nagoya Station.

Well, you see, I got on the wrong cart. Cart 6 to be exact. After looking over my ticket, it I'm supposed to be in Cart 1. So here I am, the foreigner, looking really foreign, carrying my large, bright blue suitcase down the hall, huffing and puffing and sweating. I finally make it to my seat to which I passed out. Now, three years ago when I was in Japan, I got lost in Tokyo because I fell asleep on a train. So almost happened this time. I woke up to "Nagoya", opened my eyes and focused hard to discern what the train god-lady voice was saying, and Nagoya Station was the next stop. I prop my weak and tired self up and make to the exit.

One more stop, one more confrontation with a clerk who barely spoke English while I barely spoke Japanese, and one homeless man. Yes, being foreign and obviously so makes it easy for you to become prey. Anywho, I ward the fellow off, and get my ticket. I ask a local where I am going, and the kind fellow escorts me where I needed to go. He takes me as far as he can, and I find that my train leaves in 4 minutes. I rush up the platform only to find out it is the wrong platform. I go down and up again, wrong platform. Do it again, wrong platform. I did this four times, and thought I had missed my train. I finally realize another train will be coming soon, but since I am close to my destination, I turn on my data to my phone (I look forward to the expenses) and open Google Maps. I get on the train and once it starts to move, I simply hoped I was going the right way. The map has the track bending right, and I repeat over and over, "Go right! Go right!" And...it went right! I was on my way to Yatomi, my final destination!

I get off at my stop, and it maybe had a bench to sit on. I had told Stephanie, the girl I am staying with in Yatomi, to meet me at the train station. My knowledge was weak on stations in Japan, and it turned out I was at the wrong Yatomi station. Luckily, Stephanie gave me her address, so I begin to walk the dark, but peaceful streets of Yatomi. I, after going through so much stress and being very hot, enjoyed the cool, post-typhon breeze. While I'm lolling about, Stephanie drives up to me! We hug, and I finally feel a since of true comfort.

We drive by a Circle K and I get some food for my depleted body. She drives me to her apartment (streets in Japan will blow your mind), and shows me around. The room is the size of maybe a two stories' bonus room. Efficient , though. We talk for a bit while we eat our convenient store food, and then finally, I begin to doze off and sleep.

What a first day in Japan it was.