Finished breakfast, dressing and a quick Skype call home. 10 a.m. Plane leaves at 7 p.m. Could go out for a walk or a quick subway ride to exotic locations OR could get on the limo bus, head to the airport and wait. Given the muggy weather, I opted (comfort creature that I am) for the air-conditioning of a swank hotel, the limo bus, and the airport.
Grabbed a taxi - the doors open automatically - and spent a total of 4 minutes in the cab before being deposited in front of the kind of place I never stay. A bell-hop immediately grabs my bags. Oh, I demur. Limo bus - not hotel guest. He reluctantly surrenders my bags. An hour wait for the bus in a luscious lobby watching the other bell hops. They stand like statues and then go through a rotation ceremony of bowing. The entire time their eyes are scanning the lobby and outside for any guest who might have luggage or need to know which desk is open for them. They are like a crack secret service team - alert and at the ready.
The bus arrives exactly on time. Guests are greeted, luggage stowed, tickets checked and off we go toward the airport. The scenery passing the window makes me wistful, sad to leave and yet ready to go home. We pass places I now recognize from my treks about town rather than just from movies. I do an inward wave to the giant Ferris wheel I had so wanted to ride, but was shut down because of the Fukishima mess. It's okay, I tell myself. I can always come back, knowing I don't retrace steps.
Narita airport - spotless, uncrowded, comfortable. And most importantly, good rates on my remaining yen.
An immense glass sculpture, the last photo op. And a long wait before the Singapore Air counter opens. I find a comfy seat and just stare into the middle distance. I notice there are pairs of policemen going about the airport, randomly asking people for their passports - Westerners are preferred. I don't give it much thought because I'm an old lady - who would think I'm a terrorist? I'm deep in thought and half asleep when I see a shadow approaching which materializes into 2 pairs of legs. Uniformed legs. I look up to see police with hand outstretched. They want my passport. I smile, pull it out. They ask if I'm with someone a couple of seats away. No, I'm alone. They jot down things on a clipboard, scrutinize each page of my passport. Talk to each other in hushed tones. Hand the passport back and leave with a bow and thank you. OK, I think, don't know what that was about, but I've got nothing to worry about anyway.
Still a couple of hours to go before Singapore Air opens and I want a closer seat so I can be at the head of the line. Good move. I met two brothers L & S, who were open and chatty and full of tales to tell. L, the younger brother, has been teaching English in Korea and is on his way home for a summer break. His brother met him in Japan for a quick tour and visit with friends. It was pleasant - no exciting - to listen to the plans of a young person just starting out in his work life. Not quite knowing what he wants to do, but grabbing at opportunities with enthusiasm and no fear at all. We're happily chatting away. A shadow materializes into uniformed legs. An outstretched hand. Passport please. OK. This is the second time...is there something wrong? So sorry, passport please. Are you with them (nodding toward the brothers). Passport inspected, perused, vetted. Notes taken. Thank you, bow. On to the brothers. I know the trains were on high alert about a week into my visit, so I guess the airport would be too.
Finally the counter opens, I check in, go through security (they don't make you take off your shoes) and go to the gate to...wait.
Flight was packed, stuffy and turbulent. Food was good. Sat next to an ambassador from Indonesia who promptly fell asleep and only woke long enough for meals and toilet breaks.
Shuttle home took forever and then home. Home to dogs and M and sleep.
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