Whenever I travel with no plan, I always make it out better off.
I left the comfort of my friend’s apartment at 7:50 to make the two hour trip to the airport. There was an option to take a bus from the station closest to my friend’s apartment for 3100 Yen or take a train ride with four different changes for only 1600 Yen. I chose the trains.
Of the four legs, two had over 20 minutes on the same train. With my backpack full of clothes and my purse with my iPad and other accessories, standing for a long period of time in a cramped space, didn’t seem very appealing. However, after passing one stop on the first twenty minute leg, a passenger got up and I claimed the coveted corner seat. Lucky!
After changing trains again, I managed to snag a seat on the hour long ride. I was in the center of the bench with an open seat next to me and the corner seat occupied. About thirty minutes in, the corner seat opened up, but a trio of ladies boarded and two of them took the seats beside me leaving one to sit in another section. Luckily, the corner seat across from us, opened up and the woman moved closer to her friends. In an act that can be deemed both kind and cunning, I offered to change my seat with the woman so she could sit with her friends.
Another corner seat until arrival at the airport at 10:15, exactly two hours before take off.
I traversed Narita and after looking up my flight information, headed to G gate to get my ticket only to find a line of what seemed like every passenger in the plane headed towards Melbourne and only four employees to check them all in. A little tired, very hungry and ready to sit down to call my mom, I waited rather patiently for nearly an hour.
A young Japanese man helped me in rather shaky English and we went through the routine, “Where do you live? How long will you be in the country? What seat would you like?” Just as he was about to hit print, he asked, “Do you have a visa?” I was a little thrown. I hadn’t realized you needed a visa. In broken English he directed me to the other side of the airport where we rush ordered a visa application. By that time it was 11:05, only 30 minutes until the time listed as the final time to be at the gate. I ran back to the counter and waited another ten minutes before being helped by the same guy.
I started to question his competency during the first visit but the second time was much worse now with a time limit looming over my head. He punched in my information agonizingly slowly with two fingers rather than using both hands to type. I waited another five minutes before my passes were printed and another minute as he ran over to his coworker to ask a question. As he handed over my ticket, he told me the gate number (written on the ticket) and the boarding time (also on the ticket). He says “You should get to the gate by 11:45.” We both know it’s 11:25 by then and he let’s out an embarrassed laugh as I call out an unenthusiastic thanks while running to security.
I made it through in record time, throwing off my two jackets. Thankfully I had prepared in advance, leaving my liquids and iPad in my purse for easy removal. Blowing through security and filling out my embarkation form like a pro, I raced towards immigration. There are lines as usual and only four or five stations open. In my line, a family was passing through but the three or four year old daughter decides she doesn’t want to go just yet. Seeing this as a potential problem, they open a new line but the people behind me have already rushed in. I’m at T-10 minutes by this point. The child is still refusing and the mother finally grabs her and pulls her through but there are still a few people ahead. Finally, it gets to my turn, and once again, being fully prepared with my boarding pass, visa, passport, and resident card, I breeze through. I begin my run towards gate 87.
Narita doesn’t seem big but when it counts, it will throw you for a loop. It turns out gate 87 is on a different wing. Running on moving sidewalks, dodging people, children, and suitcases, I glanced at the time displayed on the black boards hanging throughout the airport, 11:42. I’m by gate 85 at this point so I go full speed ahead, reach the counter and they’re like “Is something wrong?” A little winded, I show them my ticket and they say, “We’re just about to board!”
Safe.
Turns out another JET was on the same flight. Recognizing each other, we chatted during boarding.
Can’t say my life isn’t exciting.
なんくるないさ
Hope in Japan 