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Published: August 6th 2007
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By the time Jess, Gina and I reached Tokyo, we were running on empty. Having traveled by train to eight cities over the course of ten days, fought the language and cultural barriers, and subsided on sushi, noodles and McDonalds, we could easily say that we’d been Japan’d-out. Arriving to Ueno station in central Tokyo after a three hour trip from Nara, the gang caught a taxi to the JR hotel Jess had booked from Kobe two days prior. The cab driver gave us a look of confusion when Jess requested the destination address and through broken English retorted, “Not there.”
Unbeknownst to us, the list of hotels given to tourists upon arrival at Narita had been published two years ago and when Jess called to book, they conveniently forgot to mention the hotel had moved. In no mood to return into the Tokyo subway mess, we opted to have the driver traverse the city instead. We realized that it may not have been the best fiscal decision of the trip as the cab pulled up to our hotel half an hour later. In no mood to complain, Jess and I handed over several thousand Yen and made our way
into the lobby to check-in.
At this point in our Japan trip, we had grown accustomed to extremely small rooms; however, the last thing any of us wanted for our final nights was cramped quarters. I knew the three of us shared the same thought as we entered our room and stared at the twin beds separated by no more than a couple of feet -
shit. Our afternoon was a wash. Jess and I returned to our original Tokyo hotel to retrieve a bag he had forgotten during our stay, while Gina catnapped and worked on her blogs. That evening we mustered what little energy we had left to enjoy a dinner out together. Sticking with the status quo, Gina powered down some McDonalds after we were rebuffed from an Italian restaurant, while Jess and I snacked on sushi. Calling it an early evening, Gina and I returned to the hotel while Jess had one last rendezvous with his friend Junko and her boyfriend.
The next morning, Gina and I woke refreshed, while Jess on the other hand was feeling
a little under the weather from his late night out. Eventually stirring him from bed around
11 A.M., we coaxed him into the shower and headed out from lunch. Jess made it down about 3 floors in the elevator before nearly knocking over a kimono clad woman as the doors opened on 2nd floor, in dash for the bathroom. Gina and I continued to the lobby and waited for ten minutes before a now punished looking Jess emerged from the elevator.
Jaded by the stale diet we’d been consuming for nearly two weeks, we wandered from restaurant to restaurant, quickly dismissing anything resembling Japanese food, before happening across the red, white and green of an Italian flag. Polishing off a bowl of pasta and two personal pizzas between us, we retreated to the hotel so that Jess could recharge while Gina and I caught up on blog entries for a few hours.
The partier extraordinaire resurrected himself in the late afternoon and convinced us to go explore one of the many neighborhoods we missed during our opening stay in Tokyo. Gina and I weren’t as enthusiastic, but decided to go along anyway as nothing productive had come of our day and knew our time with Jess was drawing to an end. We boarded the subway a short while later towards the Sapporo brewery museum, which Jess had found while thumbing through the
Lonely Planet. Characteristic of our trip, we arrived ten minutes too late to catch the last tour and instead wandered around the shopping plaza nearby before ascending to the top of an office building for our last sunset view of Japan.
We found ourselves back on the subway at dusk heading for another borough of the sprawling megalopolis on our pursuit for dinner. The rush hour chaos that met us at Shinjuku station all but sent Gina over the edge as commuters shoved us, and each other, on a fight to climb the subway station stairs. “I can’t wait to get out of this f*cking place,” she grumbled.
Without a predetermined destination, we wandered aimlessly along the crowded streets before consulting the
Lonely Planet for the last time in Japan. A brief discussion resulted in the decision to have a celebratory dinner commemorating the end of our two weeks together. Whittling down the restaurants profiled in the guide, we came to a consensus on the Grand Hyatt’s steakhouse, famous for its scenes in the movie Lost in Translation - Jess hailed a cab for the kilometer ride.
That night, as we sat eating the overpriced, lackluster food, we couldn’t help but laugh at Japan’s one last attempt to cheat us.
Jess’ snoring hit a climax at about 2 A.M.., when I awoke to find myself clinging to the edge of the twin bed due to Gina’s sprawled-out sleeping position. I did my best to fall back asleep before rousing Jess for the first of several times, finally accepting my defeat. Pulling on my pants and a shirt, I rode the elevator down to the lobby to pantomime Jess’ snoring to the half-asleep desk clerk who offered me another room for the 6 hours remaining before check-out. Naturally, there was no discount.
Retrieving a groggy Gina, I grabbed my watch and headed for the overpriced room. Hypersensitive and overly tired, I just about ripped the outdated analog clock out from the nightstand due to its incessant ticking. Finally drifting to sleep at around 4:30A.M., we managed a few peaceful hours before awaking to my watch’s alarm. Returning to the original room, we found a showered Jess packing his belongings in advance of our early morning check-out. Not commenting on our mid-night departure, he asked how we were feeling. “Tired,” I snapped back, clearly agitated.
Having expired the day before our departure, we thought our Japan rail passes would be of little use in getting to the airport. However, having noted the ticket clerks blasé attitudes as we flashed the passes over the past two weeks, I suggested we attempt to sneak on to the subway to Tokyo station before transferring to Narita. The ploy worked like a charm until we arrived at Tokyo station and saw a sign requiring we show an inbound ticket before booking seats on the Narita express. Opting not to press our luck, we again flashed our expired passes and exited into the station’s main terminal area where we purchased non-express tickets for the 90-minute ride to the airport.
After a lengthy check-in process at Narita, we headed for the Northwest Airlines airport lounge to pass the several hours before our flights departed. Jess, Gina and I cackled at the numerous stories we’d amassed during our two weeks together.
Although we had had trials and tribulations traveling together, we were tremendously sad to see Jess go as we exchanged goodbyes near his gate later that evening. Too bad we couldn’t say the same about Japan.
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darby
non-member comment
boo hoo
It shall be a few moons till I see you again. We will be older (30) and probably if history holds not much wiser. But perhaps we will be happy? Safe travels G1 and G2... Much love, Jesster the Snore Monster