Gone to pot

Our previous visit to Asia proved to be a cultural experience in the bathroom, and once again Tokyo did not disappoint.

We had a small problem entering the international flight concourse since we could never figure out how to print our second boarding pass prior to the flight. After exiting our first flight, we were required to go through additional security before reaching the ticket counter to get our next set of boarding passes, yet we were not allowed through security without the boarding passes. We had to exit the line to let everyone else pass through as we shuffled through emails and phone apps for any kind of document that showed we were supposed to be there. Mark had a printed itinerary and the security guard, weary of our failing attempts, finally accepted that and let us through.

By the time we found our next departure gate, the nearby restroom seemed to be hypnotically drawing each of us into its den of modern contraptions, even though we were filled with doubt and trepidation. Remembering our previous experiences, it felt uncomfortably awkward, much like being wooed by a black widow into her tangled web.

I wound my way through a narrow corridor, following the cryptic signs to the bathroom. Once inside, the walls were lined with doors that looked more like cattle stalls than bathroom stalls. They were double sized and probably all wheelchair accessible. Against the back wall was the obvious porcelain throne surrounded by a myriad of unrecognizable devices. One corner had a long cylindrical device about two feet tall with an odd cover that I could only assume was a trash can but not sure why it would be there since signs specifically noted to throw all paper into the toilet. Beside that was a very large curved device that could only be described as a modern kitchen sink faucet for the Jolly Green Giant. I sure hoped I wasn't supposed to use that to wash after finishing my business. It was more like a shower head than a butt washer so I decided to leave it alone.

Taking my place on the seat, immediately a speaker came on with the sound of running water. I recalled my early years in our small church with a tiny bathroom that adjoined the fellowship hall. The women would immediately run the faucet upon entry, I assumed it was to try and mask whatever noises may indiscreetly slip through. This practical device saved on water and still provided the necessary distraction. I was impressed. I then settled into place and began looking around at the myriad of instructions, buttons and signs that adorned the walls and door. 

The control panel for the toilet was at first rather daunting. The first button controlled the speaker system that was currently playing what sounded like a babbling brook. I wondered if any of the buttons would change the sounds to rain on a tin roof or maybe ocean waves, but I decided not to try them in case one option was an alarm.

Next was the main toilet control with plenty of features and lots of instructions.  The first was the most important: "Stops posterior washing". Ok, good to know, I will certainly keep that one in mind. The next button was labeled shower. I was definitely staying away from that one, remembering the afore mentioned shower head to my right. Next was the bidet button, and then a dryer button which I suspiciously eyed. I cautiously pressed a few buttons. Soon my butt started feeling like someone was squirting jalapeño pepper juice directly into a strategic area of my neither region. It was then that I spotted the warning signs directly across from me.  Just above the important notice not to STAND ON the toilet was was the notice "In case of emergency, please call to the Disaster Prevention Center". I didn't need to be told twice. I returned to the stop button and promptly pushed it. 

Once things calmed down and I was getting ready to exit the stall, I heard the distinct high pitched voices of women talking in the bathroom. I paused, wondering if this was normal and perhaps restrooms here were not gender specific. Just in case, I waited quietly until they were safely in their stalls and I slipped out and headed to the sinks. As I was using the air dryer, one of the women stepped out of the stall and gave me an unpleasant look. I checked the dryer again in case I had my hands in the wrong place and then scurried out of the room. As I exited the bathroom, a cop was standing there writing in some little book. As I passed him I glanced back at the entryway at the sign which was clearly marked WOMEN. 

Asian Airlines

The flight from Chicago to Japan was miserably uncomfortable. While the amenities have improved since our last overseas flight, the long trip is no shorter. One of the positive aspects was that every seat now has both a power plug and a USB plug for charging devices. Also, each seat back has its own monitor with a large selection of movies, videos, music and games. The biggest difference was that we were allowed to keep out and even use our iPhones and iPads during takeoff and landing (in airplane mode, of course); a small thing that was never allowed on any previous flight we've ever taken. 

Another unexpected surprise was that beer and wine were all complimentary, although I opted to stay with the strange new fruit juice in the green box. Three different stewardesses unsuccessfully tried to explain to me what it was. Each subsequent stewardess offering drinks would giggle when I ordered it by pointing at the box. I never understood if they thought I was funny by turning down free alcohol for a kids juice or if it was the way I pointed with my accompanying big smile and wide eyes. 

We also noticed how this Japanese airline had much smarter features than the American counterparts. In flight meals were always a hassle and the drink was always a challenge to maneuver around the small tray of food, but on this plane there were cup holders on the seat backs to keep our drink cups up and away from the food tray. Overhead compartments had mirrors in the top that allows short people a full view of the compartment area to make sure nothing was left behind. 

Even though things were easier, it was still a very long 12 1/2 hour flight and we couldn't get to Tokyo fast enough.

Maiden Voyage

(This section was submitted by Bryan) 

When we arrived at the gate for our departing flight to Tokyo, we found ourselves in a celebration of sorts. We were unaware that we would be taking part in a historic first flight from Chicago to the Haneda airport, which is located in Tokyo itself. Our previous trips took us through the Narita airport, which is an hour train ride from Tokyo. 

The celebration was on! A large crowd was gathered at the gate and two Japanese women in traditional costumes were playing stringed instruments for the ceremony. At first the music sounded classically Japanese, then a strange thing happened. The second piece we heard them play sounded oddly familiar. After a few bars it was clear that it was the American classic folk song 'Grandfather's Clock', written in the late eighteen hundreds. Ah, the fusion of it all. I half expected their next piece to be 'She'll be comin 'round Mount Fuji when she comes', or 'If you knew Sushi like I knew Sushi'...

After the music was over, a few officials had to add their two yen worth of congratulatory speeches. It seemed like they were speaking English, but from the mangled mess of word salad it was impossible to tell.

Next a calligraphy artist created a large piece with the name of the airport in Japanese script. The ceremony was concluded with the ribbon cutting. As we boarded we were each given a wrapped gift with a miniature of the jet and some chopsticks. Clapping his hands, Trevor enthusiastically squealed that this reminded him of the pomp that preceded the launch of the Titanic. cs

Shut yo mouth, Trevor! 

Join the Club

Our flight to Chicago was uneventful, except that it got us to Chicago. At the pickup area, we watched every hotel shuttle in the greater Chicago area come and go before ours arrived to whisk us off on a 30 minute drive to the good ol' appropriately named Country Inn. When we arrived at the hotel, we stood at the front desk staring at the clerk with puzzled expressions as she tried to explain in her thick Indian accent why we should accept a free room upgrade. I thought I should have been the one to bargain with her. I was certain in all my computer support calls overseas that I probably knew her brother. But Mark was determined and was met with equally puzzled expressions. Speaking very slowly in his best pigeon English, he was questioning her logic that an upgrade from two queen beds to one King bed for 3 people was not exactly an upgrade. His best attempts were thwarted and he agreed to sleep on the pull out couch. 

Sunday morning we endured a continental breakfast at the hotel and by early afternoon we were sitting in the Admiral' s Lounge on an American Airlines concourse. While this would otherwise be a rather boring topic to talk about, it turned out to be quite a pleasant experience. The cost of a visit can be rather expensive but we were granted free access as a perk of one of Marks's many Credit Card benefits. The lounge provided free food and drinks and plenty of comfy seating, complimentary Wifi and plugs for charging our numerous devices. It felt rather special, however briefly, to be part of this exclusive club. 

The two hours in the Admiral's Club turned out to be the first time the three of us had even talked about the trip. Before arriving in Chicago, Bryan and I didn't even know we were spending the night there. We have travelled with Mark before, and we know him to be meticulously thorough in travel planning. Mark's passion for travel has far surpassed a hobby and at times seems to be his life's endeavor. He has truly mastered the practice of collecting credit cards and travel reward clubs that afford him free and reduced travel, as well as benefits like those we enjoyed at the Admiral's Club. Thanks to Mark's remarkable ability, he managed to find us a total of 10 flights landing us in Chicago, Japan, Kuala Lumpur, Borneo and Hanoi, and all for less money than one average round trip ticket to and from just one Asian destination. Now that's worth smiling about:

With iPads fully charged and bellies satisfied, we headed toward our departure gate. 

Packing

As news of our trip came out, I found that most people had a consistent and firm comment and a corresponding stern look. "Why in the world do you want to go there?" The answer was simple. "I don't". The truth of the matter is that we found such cheap flights we simply couldn't refuse.

I knew virtually nothing about our two primary destinations, and even after a little research I still didn't know much more. But I did find out we will be staying in some very modern cities, and so far they appear to be much safer than some places in the USA right now.

The days and weeks leading up to the trip had become so busy for me that I had virtually no time to prepare. Bryan showed up the day before we left with his bags packed, and I hadn't even thought about packing yet. We were both so busy by the time we finally went to bed the evening before, I still had not so much as pulled a single article of clothing out to pack.

I climbed out of bed at 8:AM and had only 90 minutes before we were supposed to leave for the airport. Several cups of coffee later, I was in full gear going through my drawers and closet sorting quickly through my belongings looking only for things I knew I couldn't survive without. The only problem was that I still had virtually no idea what I was packing for or how much I would need. We decided to take only 1 carry-on bag each to avoid checking any luggage. This actually made packing easier, as my one bag was small enough that it filled up quickly. It will only add to the adventure of our three weeks in exotic destinations to see if I actually brought the things I needed. I know for sure I have two things: my Passport and my credit card. After all, what else do I really need?

After franticly scurrying about to find several important charging devices, they were eventually located having already been packed in Bryan's backpack. I sat down to catch my breath and realized I had missed some important calls. Barney, our gracious driver, was having trouble locating Mark, and both were now uncomfortably late. I kept myself busy and tried not to stare at the clock or recalculate the remaining time and distance to the airport. We ended up at the airport in plenty of time, and hopefully those panicked moments before leaving the house do NOT set the precedence for our adventure.