All aboard the planes, trains, and automobiles to Japan

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It's before dawn on March 13th in Virginia Beach, Virginia, my hometown, when I place my car keys on my mom's kitchen counter, double check for probably forgotten items, and stuff all my luggage in the truck amidst the pouring rain. In a few days I will be in Japan, on the other side of this world. My travels are set to begin at the Greyhound bus station in downtown Norfolk, Virginia where I will catch the express bus to Washington, DC.
My amazing mother drops me off, and not to be disappointed by the specialness of the dear populace of Norfolk, I turn the corner and stroll past a security guard admonishing a poor, old homeless woman, with a near-empty fifth of Smirnoff vodka dangling from the fingers of his left hand. This is actually my first time traveling via Greyhound bus. It was going to be significantly cheaper to fly out of Washington, DC, rather than Norfolk so I booked my ticket out of Reagan International and explored options on getting there. With Greyhound I could check my suitcase and carry on my backpack, plus the station and schedule was easily accessible. Apparently, if you purchase your ticket online at least 21 days in advance, the fare price is only $1. Yeah, I thought it was a mistake as well. So, for only two dollars and five hours I could get to Union Station in Washington, DC. Considering gas prices and such, this was hard to believe so I was nervous to present my ticket at the check-in counter, thinking there must have been a glitch on the website. The woman who checked me in was pleasant and never batted an eyelash at my steal.

I proceed to take a seat in the waiting area to do some people-watching. I am one of maybe two white people in the room and most folks are passed out in uncomfortable positions in the metal seats, snoring loudly. It smells faintly of a cattle car, but I am too excited to care. A man joins the line that has an uncanny facial resemblance to our former president George Bush, pointy ears and all. If it wasn't for his five o'clock shadow and dirty jeans, he could definitely pass as a body double. The security guard proceeds to conduct a weapon search on the passengers taking the bus to North Carolina. He never checks the bus to DC, apparently I am missing out on the party bus this morning.

I choose a bus seat near the front. The driver, a jovial woman with a Jamaican accent, boards and comments before she closes the door, "They be complaining when the bus late and they complaining when it on time." The bus leaves on time. A passenger jokingly asks which movie will be showing during the ride and our driver answers with a keen sense of humor: "Scenes from the Highway". Laughter erupts as we exit the station driveway.

I listen to the rythmic squeak of the windshield wipers as my hometown flies past the bus window. The scenery, though drab as usual, is actually captivating in my excited state of mind. Everything appears illuminated through the eyes of a new adventure. I finally plug in my headphones when I am no longer enthused by the squeaking soundtrack of the wipers, and drift off to daydreaming of Japan and the coming first embrace from my lover after two months apart.

After a bus transfer in Richmond, we pull in to Union Station ten minutes early and I disembark onto the streets of Washington, DC, glad that my $2 Greyhound investment went smoother than I ever expected it would. The brilliant weather reflected my good mood as I began walking to find the Downtown Washington Hostel on H Street where I had $21 reservations for the night in a 4 bed mixed dorm room. After check-in I went to drop my luggage near my assigned bunk and happened upon one of my roommates, a middle-aged, skinny, and heavily-bearded Jewish man. He asked me if it bothered me if he changed his shirt right then. Of course, I smiled and said no problem, I was just getting ready to leave conveniently enough.

The hostel is nicely located within walking distance of the National Mall, so I acquired directions to the Library of Congress along with a few sprits of sunblock from the friendly staff, and took off smiling in my sun dress and black flats. Later, I would regret choosing footwear based on cuteness factor rather than comfort as the miles I ended up walking that afternoon caused some pretty nice heel blisters. But I digress, DC abounds with many, many free admission museums. They are so incredible that it is impossible to comfortably absorb them all in one day or even a whole weekend. This time around I decided to explore the Library of Congress, as I had never visited it before and just so happen to have a ridiculous affection for libraries. I always had the understanding that the Library of Congress was the holy grail of libraries, so naturally, I was happy to indulge my nerd factor without dragging another soul along. If I wanted to spend 15 minutes reviewing one exhibit, then I damn well could. I planned to find the marine science section and bury myself in it until dinnertime, but come to find out, not only is the Library of Congress spread out over three giant buildings, but you need special researcher clearance to even go near the bookshelves. Oh well, at least I was still able to explore the exhibits on public display in the Jefferson building. I read about how the Constitution was compiled and observed the phenomenal rotundal architecture and painted murals that are typical of many government buildings in DC. I was particularly likened to a mural depicting the following quote: "Adventure leads to discovery, which in turn results in Conquest, and finally, Civilization." In another mural, women were painted to represent different disciplines of science. Zoology's figure was the only one stark-naked, depicted sitting next to a peacock. This is closest to my personal discipline of marine biology, so I was not disappointed to be seen as sexy and minimalistic by the painters of that day. My favorite exhibit was by far the restoration of Thomas Jefferson's personal library. Jefferson once declared, "I cannot live without books.", a statement that I strongly relate to. It was fascinating to observe these books dating back to at least the 1800's. I spied many volumes of Virgil in the poetry section and a neat book in zoology titled 'History of Quadrupeds'. All in all, a leisurely learning experience.

With time and daylight to burn, I decided to walk along Independence Avenue, eventually making my way to the Metro Center station to catch the metro towards Fairfax to meet my best friend from childhood and her fiancee for dinner. At one point I was nearly run down by a bus when I dropped my map in the middle of the pedestrian walkway in an intersection during rush hour. The bus driver was kind enough to allow me to run back and grab it before proceeding. My attempt at a portrayal of confident city girl was now publicly negated, but I nervously laughed at myself and waved a quick 'thanks-for-not-squashing-me' before running off with my free tourist map, which was now in two pieces. I firmly believe that an adventure is never complete without such comical mishaps.

I navigated the DC metro system with ease and fully embraced the stench of vomited-upon carpeting in the train cars on my way to an enjoyable dinner. The hostel I stayed at was fine for what I needed, a cheap place to crash for one night that was near the Reagan Airport, but I'm not sure I would have enjoyed spending a whole week there. Upon my return for the night, I was greeted by the unwelcome appearance of my roommate's dirty boxers on my clean bed, and every time I rolled over, a broken spring in the mattress would dig into my back. However, I made it to my first flight with time to spare the next morning, which was the original objective anyways. It was worth having to sleep with three strange men in order to finally be with my boyfriend in Japan ... I kid, I kid.

Upon landing in Chicago, I grabbed a coffee to settle into my four hour layover. Shortly after sitting down I proceed to spill a small amount of it all over the empty seat adjacent to me. I remembered eyeing the napkin dispenser on my way past the counter, knowing I should have grabbed some. Damn you, Murphy's Law! I quickly attempted a futile mop job using the back of my flight itinerary, which of course did nothing but spread it around. So I embarrassingly resigned myself to sitting next to a drying puddle of coffee, voicing apologies in my head to the unlucky soul that would eventually plop down into my sticky mess. You know it's bad when you cautiously and briefly look up during it all just to see if anyone was watching you. I wonder how moronic this activity may have looked on the many security cameras that were undoubtedly recording my every fumble. I bet it's as hilarious in slow motion as in fast forward.

After enjoying a fantastic lunch of chips, salsa, and guacamole from Frontera's Mexican Grill (which yes, if you're wondering, I also managed to spill on my shirt), I boarded the 12-hour flight to the Narita Tokyo airport in Japan. It proceeded as normal, but by the final two hours, I was very ready to exit. I made it though, bleary-eyed as hell. Immigration, baggage claim, and customs ran extremely efficiently, after which I finally met my boyfriend to begin the final leg back to his apartment in Yokosuka. After an hour and a half on the trains around Tokyo, we arrived at his apartment where we proceeded to catch up over toasty ham and cheese sandwiches, homemade pasta salad, and Asahi beer followed by some unfiltered sake. It felt incredible to run my fingers through his hair after the time apart. I truly can't wait to explore this country with him in the coming months and am grateful to him for allowing me the opportunity to tag along.

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Photos

Washington DC
DC in bloom

Washington DC
in bloom

Capitol Hill
the Capitol Building

Thomas Jefferson Library of Congress
the rotunda

Thomas Jefferson Library of Congress
ceiling art

Washington Monument
a sunny day