Well, if I can't take big trips now, why not reminisce about old trips?
During my second summer in graduate school at Penn State, they weren't offering any courses I really needed, so my (first) wife and I decided we'd take the summer term off. Her brother (I guess that makes him my "ex-brother-in-law," who I'll call "M") was working in Japan and invited us to come visit him and sleep on the kitchen floor of is 2x4 apartment in Tokyo. Through his contacts, we found a charter flight geared for Japanese students in the US who were returning home for summer vacation. It left New York in late June and returned in late August. The service was provided by Japan Air Lines. On the flight out, our charter group was put into a regularly scheduled flight, a DC-10, which was very nice. The return flight was a charter flight for just our group, and older JAL DC-8. Given 2 months in Japan, we got to see a lot of the country.
While waiting for the flight at JFK, we read an article in the New York Times reporting that the dollar had fallen below 200 yen for the first time since who knows when. We had a nice wad of money, all in traveler's checks, but it was all in dollars. The outbound flight left from JFK and stopped in Anchorage to refuel. They gave us a coupon to buy whatever we wanted at the snack counters in the transit lounge while the plane was refueling. My impression of the Anchorage airport was (1) the glass case containing a big stuffed polar bear, and (2) the hot dogs that were selling for $2.75 (that's $11 in today's money). We used our coupons for a bowl of ramen, which seemed like a better bargain, and we wanted to get into the spirit of our trip to Japan.
It was pretty cool flying over the Alaska glaciers. Somebody pointed out Denali to us as well.
The flight over the Pacific was a bit tiresome, and we approached Tokyo looping in from the south, so we saw Mt. Fuji and Tokyo Bay from the plane window, even though we were landing at the relatively newly opened Narita Airport, which was a good ways east of the metropolis.
We finally arrived at Narita (here's the arrival concourse, above.) Naturally, we were jet-lagged, but had the presence of mind to find a bank and buy some yen. This is where we were introduced to the Japanese custom of having change presented to you in a small tray, never by hand. Then we had to figure out how to get into the city, where M was going to meet us. Remember, this is 1978. No cell phones, overseas calls were really expensive. Heck, it was probably an expensive toll call from the airport to Tokyo, if we could figure out how to use the Japanese telephone system. In other words, nobody on either continent knew when we landed, and M had to go to Ueno Station and just wait for us, not knowing when we'd actually arrive.
To understand Narita, imagine if someone had decided to build the Washington DC main international airport somewhere out around Frederick, Maryland. Building it was controversial, and the airport was built before all the ground transport links were ready. The only rail service was the private Keisei Electric Railway, and following M's instruction, we found the station and figured out how to buy the tickets. There were English language instructions and signage, but it was a bit spotty. I think we paid for the deluce express for airline customers, which included luggage racks and reclining seats, but we ended up boarding something that looked like a subway train, and that's what we rode into Tokyo. It seems like it took over an hour, and it was a pretty surreal ride, being that we were jet-lagged as all get-out, the station announcements were in an incomprehensible (to us) language, and it was dark, as we had landed in the early evening. As we rocketed by the various suburban towns (at least the train was an express) we saw displays of clorful neon signage that woud do creit to Times Square or Las Vegas. At last we arrived at the Keisei Ueno Station (not to be confused with the Japan National Railways Ueno Station, which is next door), and M met us.
But we still had to ride the rails some more before we could sleep. First, a ride on the Tokyo subway Ginza Line from Ueno to Shibuya. Then we got on another commuter rail line run by the Tokyu Railway called the Shin Tamagawa Line, which is now called something else, which we rode to M's station, which I don't remember, it was somewhere west of Shibuya. We finally hauled out luggage up the stairs and into the neighborhood. Oh yes, we in definitely in a foreign country. The noisy traffic, the tang of high-sulfur diesel fumes that I remembered from my trip to Israel 6 years previously. We walked off the main drag into a warren of very narrow streets fronted by various low buildings. The streets were all paved and marked immaculately, but boy they were narrow. I would have trouble getting my SUV through them. The cars were scaled for the streets. We even saw a garbage truck, a design that looked exactly like an American garbage truck, but miniaturized to the size of a small delivery van. Eventually we got to M's apartment block. He wasn't kidding when he said the place was small. It was basically a studio, but it had a full bath and a decent kitchen, which is where we slept, because the sliding door gave both M and us some privacy. Well, that was enough for us for one very long day. We rolled out our sleeping bags and got some well-deserved rest. The next morning, we were off to explore Tokyo, including some train rides.
-more to come.
During my second summer in graduate school at Penn State, they weren't offering any courses I really needed, so my (first) wife and I decided we'd take the summer term off. Her brother (I guess that makes him my "ex-brother-in-law," who I'll call "M") was working in Japan and invited us to come visit him and sleep on the kitchen floor of is 2x4 apartment in Tokyo. Through his contacts, we found a charter flight geared for Japanese students in the US who were returning home for summer vacation. It left New York in late June and returned in late August. The service was provided by Japan Air Lines. On the flight out, our charter group was put into a regularly scheduled flight, a DC-10, which was very nice. The return flight was a charter flight for just our group, and older JAL DC-8. Given 2 months in Japan, we got to see a lot of the country.
While waiting for the flight at JFK, we read an article in the New York Times reporting that the dollar had fallen below 200 yen for the first time since who knows when. We had a nice wad of money, all in traveler's checks, but it was all in dollars. The outbound flight left from JFK and stopped in Anchorage to refuel. They gave us a coupon to buy whatever we wanted at the snack counters in the transit lounge while the plane was refueling. My impression of the Anchorage airport was (1) the glass case containing a big stuffed polar bear, and (2) the hot dogs that were selling for $2.75 (that's $11 in today's money). We used our coupons for a bowl of ramen, which seemed like a better bargain, and we wanted to get into the spirit of our trip to Japan.
It was pretty cool flying over the Alaska glaciers. Somebody pointed out Denali to us as well.
The flight over the Pacific was a bit tiresome, and we approached Tokyo looping in from the south, so we saw Mt. Fuji and Tokyo Bay from the plane window, even though we were landing at the relatively newly opened Narita Airport, which was a good ways east of the metropolis.
We finally arrived at Narita (here's the arrival concourse, above.) Naturally, we were jet-lagged, but had the presence of mind to find a bank and buy some yen. This is where we were introduced to the Japanese custom of having change presented to you in a small tray, never by hand. Then we had to figure out how to get into the city, where M was going to meet us. Remember, this is 1978. No cell phones, overseas calls were really expensive. Heck, it was probably an expensive toll call from the airport to Tokyo, if we could figure out how to use the Japanese telephone system. In other words, nobody on either continent knew when we landed, and M had to go to Ueno Station and just wait for us, not knowing when we'd actually arrive.
To understand Narita, imagine if someone had decided to build the Washington DC main international airport somewhere out around Frederick, Maryland. Building it was controversial, and the airport was built before all the ground transport links were ready. The only rail service was the private Keisei Electric Railway, and following M's instruction, we found the station and figured out how to buy the tickets. There were English language instructions and signage, but it was a bit spotty. I think we paid for the deluce express for airline customers, which included luggage racks and reclining seats, but we ended up boarding something that looked like a subway train, and that's what we rode into Tokyo. It seems like it took over an hour, and it was a pretty surreal ride, being that we were jet-lagged as all get-out, the station announcements were in an incomprehensible (to us) language, and it was dark, as we had landed in the early evening. As we rocketed by the various suburban towns (at least the train was an express) we saw displays of clorful neon signage that woud do creit to Times Square or Las Vegas. At last we arrived at the Keisei Ueno Station (not to be confused with the Japan National Railways Ueno Station, which is next door), and M met us.
But we still had to ride the rails some more before we could sleep. First, a ride on the Tokyo subway Ginza Line from Ueno to Shibuya. Then we got on another commuter rail line run by the Tokyu Railway called the Shin Tamagawa Line, which is now called something else, which we rode to M's station, which I don't remember, it was somewhere west of Shibuya. We finally hauled out luggage up the stairs and into the neighborhood. Oh yes, we in definitely in a foreign country. The noisy traffic, the tang of high-sulfur diesel fumes that I remembered from my trip to Israel 6 years previously. We walked off the main drag into a warren of very narrow streets fronted by various low buildings. The streets were all paved and marked immaculately, but boy they were narrow. I would have trouble getting my SUV through them. The cars were scaled for the streets. We even saw a garbage truck, a design that looked exactly like an American garbage truck, but miniaturized to the size of a small delivery van. Eventually we got to M's apartment block. He wasn't kidding when he said the place was small. It was basically a studio, but it had a full bath and a decent kitchen, which is where we slept, because the sliding door gave both M and us some privacy. Well, that was enough for us for one very long day. We rolled out our sleeping bags and got some well-deserved rest. The next morning, we were off to explore Tokyo, including some train rides.
-more to come.
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That is a very apt description!
. 
Who do you think I am, Paul Theroux? I sometimes surpise myself at what I can remember. If only I could remember to take out the trash on the correct day...
