On the way home...

By now you must be wondering, "Where is she? Where has she been?"

Well, now I'm back home. As to how I got here? Beyond the conventional airplane, of course.  Well, that's a longer, somewhat bumpier story.

The first part of this was written in a somewhat surly state of mind, influenced by sleep-depravation and the general frustrations associated with dragging a good percentage of your life across 7,000 miles of ocean and terrain in three suitcases. Please forgive me when it gets ranty, haha. The second part, well...let's see how it goes.

Part I - ALL I WANTED WAS SOME SOBA.

I had it all planned out.

When I went to Kamakura, and out with friends on my last days in Japan, I though, "Nah, I'll get it at the airport." It was to be my last, perfect meal, a time to reflect in my last few moments alone in Japan.

zaru soba: cold soba noodles, a refreshing summer staple



All I wanted was some freaking zaru soba and tempura. What I got was a quick, ready-made sandwich in a plastic pack from Dotour as I ran to the boarding gate.



This is what happened:

I left my friend's place, and got to Narita Airport at a reasonable time (about 2.45 hours before my flight). I had left my two large suitcases with my friends at the 711 コンビニ (convenience store) back in Amakusa, who sent it to Tokyo for me four days before my flight. The shipping company had called to confirm that my bags had arrived at the airport the day before, and there was a cell phone station where I could cancel my service right next to it. It seemed to be going perfectly.

"Seemed" being the optimal word.

As soon as I got to the airport, things went downhill fast.

I strolled up to the cell phone kiosk counter of Terminal 2, ready to cancel my phone service, only to be met with a surprise. My 2-year contract would be "up" on September 1st - even though I started a contract on August 14th two years prior. It was August 27th. Could I just leave instructions for them to cut my service on September 1st? No, I had to be there physically. Could I have a friend go in person to close my account? No, it had to be me or a family member. After a bit more prodding, they told me I could have my work supervisor do it for me, but I'd have to hand her the special form... 
 


...too bad my flight was in two hours.

So guess what? $100 early cancellation fee, plus my regular bill.

Nothing to do but pay, so pay I did.

But at least I had my baggage situation arranged, right? WAIT. I arrived to find that, yes, my bags had arrived, but to the WRONG terminal. There "wasn't enough time" for them to transport my bags to the next terminal - given the time that Kuroneko would spend in calling the truck, packing the bags, and delivering them to the next terminal - so I had to take them on the terminal shuttle with me. Now, terminal shuttles run great at Japanese airports, much like anything else in the country. However, we're talking about me, two +20 kg  (approx. 60-70 lbs) suitcases, one carry-on, and a shoulder bag. Somehow, with the balancing/clinging skills honed during my university bus-riding days and the help of two nice, Japanese ladies, I managed to do it.

I thought I'd cleared it, and did my math: I'd have about an hour to check my bags in and have lunch...except SURPRISE!

Delta recently changed their international flight baggage allowance from 2 checked-in suitcases to 1. So bam! $100 extra baggage fee. Oh, and one of my suitcases was over weight. But not just overweight. (Mind you, I realize this is my own fault for having too much crap, but really). The policy is that 24-32 kg costs $75 extra. Above 32kg to, gee, Idon'tevenknow, would cost $200 extra. My bag weighed 33 kg! The stewardess directed me to the corner nearby, and told me if I could transfer 1 kg to my other suitcase, which was underweight, then I could avoid the heftier of the two fines.







Now, if my suitcase would only open. The overweight suitcase was an old, hard-shell beast, which my father had found for $5 at a garage sale and had fixed for my initial trip to Japan. It had lost a handle on the way there, and apparently lost proper lock function just as I was ready to make my way back. After about 10 minutes of fighting with my luggage, I finally managed to open this crazy bag, transfer some clothes, and...now the suitcase won't freaking lock. Another 20 minutes later, I'd finally managed to lock one side of the suitcase, and slip the clasp lock on the side of the other. 

With a hope and a prayer, I rush to check in my two suitcases in, practically throwing $200 at the stewardesses. At this point, about 45 minutes have passed. I realize I don't have enough money in my Japanese account to cover the extra cost of the phone bill, but as I rush to the ATM (you can deposit money from an ATM to your account for most banks in Japan!), I realize that  I can't because my tiny Amakusa bank is, well...too tiny.HAHA!


By now, it's about 3:30 in the afternoon. I haven't eaten lunch, and haven't really eaten breakfast, but there are 10 minutes until boarding. I haul ass through security, manage to buy a prepackaged sandwich from Dotour near the gate, and make it just in time to line up for boarding. 

Well, I didn't get that soba, but at least I got that Coolish Peach ice cream in a pack from the vending machine. And the girls next to me on the plane were nice. 



Bright sides, right?

Plus, I was going to see my great friends in LA, where I was going to spend a week before making my final stop in Miami. 

Except, someone left an entire container of bags on the plane in LA, of which mine were conveniently included, so I, along with several other passengers, were waiting over an hour for our bags to get out of the plane. This bag carousel is also just  past customs - a no-phone zone - but also had an extra customs component that made the carousel area phone-free. I couldn't even get the airport wireless signal to message my friend who was picking me up. 

When I finally get out of the airport, I spend 15 minutes just trying to get onto the wifi. By the time I am able to contact my friend, he has just left the airport because he has a class at Northridge...and with the traffic, and there's no way he can turn around to come back to the airport...



So, again, My Three Suitcases and I hobble slowly, painfully, to a charter bus that drops me an hour away, nearer to my friend's school, hobble into the wire-less terminal (no phone for me, and certainly no wireless devices), where I started plugging away at this blog post. 

Needless to say, my departure from Japan was less than stellar, and certainly less than I had imagined for myself. From that point on, though, things got much better: My friend arrives, we get food, and after a magnificent shower I spend a great week seeing the LA sights with my great friends Monica and Justin. It was just the medicine I needed after that ordeal. 

And the best part? My suitcases stayed in the trunk all week.