Japan

I had been sick, something I ate, or all the things that I consumed;

too much, too exotic;

I like exotic food, different things, but my body at this age, this time in my life also craves some routine, some regular and familiar.

I had been sick the night before we were scheduled to make the move from our downtown Tokyo hotel to our airport hotel, for our final night in Japan.

Is this TMI, too much detail?

Three times I got sick, really sick, bad - sick.

My stomach needed to clear itself. And oh boy - it did clear

- everything - OUT.

<<<<<

We had learned our way around, how to navigate the Tokyo subway system.

(It’s a great system. Really well done. A short learning curve involved, but once you’ve got it, you’ve got it.)

I really didn’t know how well my fragile and drained body (my tank was running on fumes) was going to make it

- a good distance from Tokyo (city center) to Narita (one of Tokyo’s primary airports;

where we were scheduled to depart, next day, in the morning.

We could have just taken a taxi. Big $$$, we could have made it easy on ourselves, but…

that is not “our way”.

“College try”. Just try. (We could always waive a white flag and bail.)

C mapped it all out, and we had done these subway stops before. The first subway entrance was located close to our Tokyo hotel, a short walk. Go downstairs. Take one subway line, one stop and transfer (lines). Then one more subway stop.

Walk upstairs, walking with luggage. More stairs than we would have liked. No elevators.

My drained (running on empty) body did some stairs,

one set - a landing - stop for a bit - breath in, breath out - rest.

And then another set of stairs.

C carried my luggage for me up the final couple sets of stairs - back out to the street.

(Not just beautiful, C strong. C strong - like bull.)

We saw a Police Officer and asked him (he spoke just enough English), “where do we catch the bus to Narita (airport)?”

He understood, we communicated, connection made; he pointed down the street, not far.

We could have taken a train, and of course we could have shelled out $$$ for a taxi, but this was working out.

The outside, fresh air, for my empty body - - - it was good. I needed space. I needed air.

(The idea of maybe getting sick again - in a taxi - that was really bad, a bad thought, a very bad “maybe”.)

The bus to the airport was perfect. Just what we both needed. They tagged and put our luggage under the bus. Nice clean comfy seats, and… I checked,

Yes, there was “a head”, a boat term that I think applies to buses, a bathroom (if I needed it), in the back - on the bus.

>>>>

Short story long…

We made it to Narita where our plan was to meet our airport hotel shuttle bus, in about one hour (near hotel check in time, never be early, and try hard not to be late - in Japan).

Japan runs - on time. Spot on. Perfect time.

I found a nice bench seat in the nice clean modern airport. I listened to and watched some world go by. (I felt OK. I like watching world, world go by.)

C explored, got herself a drink and a snack. I was sticking to my - water only - diet.

C found the location and time, all clearly (Japan style) marked and mapped out, a place with times posted - outside on the pavement - the time and the place - to catch the hotel shuttle bus.

We caught our bus, checked in - and Scott gave his bod what it needed more than anything else.

Sleep. A recharge. Time + sleep.

(C explored the big, nice, clean airport hotel stocked with multiple restaurants and dining options and other assorted amenities.)

I slept. Sweet dreams. No more sickness. Time for good fortune - to find us again. (We just needed time.)

>>>>>

Next morning, hotel airport shuttle bus runs every half hour - on time, clock work - Japan

We come down the elevator, cut a little close to the airport shuttle bus departure time

But… and this just speaks to (and sums up) our experience - our time in Japan;

A man, a hotel employee, in a crisp uniform, a man with a kind gentle voice,

he meets us as we exit the elevator.

“Airport shuttle bus? Checking out?”, he asks.

(“Yes, that’s us. Yes. Yes, and yes.”)

This was not a very expensive, not a fancy hotel. Just a nice place. Not too pricey. Moderate price.

The service, the kindness, the attention to our needs and details; all these things provided, included, for a price and at a level

- that we are not accustomed to.

Japan

The kind, hotel employee, waiting outside the elevator - helper man,

he takes our room card keys. (No need to go to the front desk.)

He takes our luggage and asks what airport terminal we are going to (so that luggage can be loaded in the correct compartment - time management, efficiency, planning).

Small things done well.

Along with a bunch of other airport patrons - quickly and yet, not feeling rushed, we’re comfortably seated and all on the hotel airport bus. Ready to roll.

And get this….

I think about five hotel employees, men in uniforms, they line up, equally, perfectly spaced - along the outside wall of the hotel;

As the bus begins to pull away from the hotel,

In unison,

They all bow.

They bow to the people on the bus.

They bow in a gesture of gratitude - to us.

They bow to their valued customers.

A tradition (so endearing)

Respect - Honor - Pride (in their work)

That’s it. That’s it in a nutshell, (wherever that phrase came from) -

JAPAN

Can you tell?

S & C, we liked (we like) -

Japan