J5 Transit back home

Time to say farewell to our gorgeous onsen suite and start the trek home. Japan is only a 9 hour flight so it doesn’t feel as never ending as a Europe or US transit, thank fuck! The end of a trip is always kinda sad, but I’m always so grateful to have been able to come and see these gorgeous towns and the beautiful scenery and enjoy the lovely food and the break from the usual routine.

As we are packing, Mr K says to me: ‘You could stay a little longer if you want to…’ Fuck! Now he tells me! Maybe next time I totally should, I could see myself tootling around another couple of ryokans or tootling about with the Messrs Stokes who are in Kyoto. Oh well, too late to change plans now.

We had a few errands lined up to deal with on the way from Hakone to Haneda, but it should be a pretty chill day hopefully – only about a 90 min drive and one we’ve done before. So fingers crossed everything goes smoothly. First to Odawara to the nearest Donki to try and find some weirdnesses to add to this year’s Christmas gifting. 🙂

Sorry, SirLee – I don’t have you in the Christmas draw this year or I would have bought a couple of bottles of ridiculously cheap whiskey. I do have one of my nieces though…. 😀 Vanilla caramel spermatozoons! What’s not to love? They even promise to make you look great on social media! 🙂

I just… what? I’ve forgotten what shopping in Japan is like.

Total retail regret: should have bought this strange strawberry heart shaped pillow home with me; even though it would have been a struggle to fit it in the luggage somewhere. 😉 It was super cute and very Japan.

I’ve been out of the cities for too long… everything feels like an assault on the senses. From the traffic lights talking to me, to the escalators and their musical singing/warnings, to just walking past some random Hello Kitty machine that is nattering in an overly kawaii voice trying to get us to buy popcorn! Argh! Take me back to the peace and quiet of the onsen towns.

Our drive to Haneda Gardens was marked by one traffic jam after another. Like seriously, our 90 min drive turned into more like 3 hours plus, in total. Once we got onto the interchanges is when the fun started… the fuel light came on in the car, and both of us really needing a Happy Room! With 27kms to drive, and the car saying we had about 36kms worth of fuel, we were desperately looking for a petrol station. Lord knows the Happy Room was likely going to be out of the question, we had passed numerous konbini before we hit the interchanges but then there was nothing but noise barriers fencing us in. If we left the highway, we could have been driving around for ages looking for fuel, and this close to the city, konbinis with car parks gets to be few and far between.

We managed to limp all the way to Haneda and turn off where we needed to on the sniff of an oily rag… range anxiety was relieved when we found a fuel station (fortuitously the one closest to our car hire return place later!), and very unexpectedly – they had a Happy Room for customers (most petrol stations here do not). Feeling much happier in spite of our 90min turned 180min drive, we made our way to Haneda Gardens to meet Yale for some late lunch before we could return the car and go check in.

When we got there – we were surprised by a show of super cars in the car park! Wow! There’s some serious money here!

Inside was an even more choice selection of fancy cars inside.

But no time to dilly dally, it’s now 3pm and sushi lunch was waiting. Favourite Haneda Gardens sushi restaurant inserted here so I can find it for next time we are in need of a sushi fix before heading to the airport!. Tsukiji Sushiko Takumi… I won’t ever remember that!

Yale chose the Uber plate of all the things.

I tried the All Tuna All the Ways nigiri platter…

Mr K had his favourite tempura donburi, and a savoury steam custard with roe and smelt and all good things.

Several beers and a good catch up later and we were soon ready to repack some final things and make our way to the airport for the overnight flight home. Mr K dropped us to the airport and then took the car back, and met us back on the concourse.

We front up to the Business check in, and I ask the lady if Yale’s business upgrade request had been successful – and sadly it had not been. So we checked our bags (three of them: 2 x 25kgs and 1 x 10kg bag), in what must be our lightest ever return from Japan. Mr K then asked the lovely staff member if he could take home a bottle of Moët & Chandon champagne that we never got around to drinking because there is so much affordable quality saké everywhere… unsurprising that! Sadly, and very predictably, she said it would be taken off us at security, so he handed it to her with a flourish and said, “Happy Birthday, we hope you enjoy this!” And off we went towards security and the JAL lounges.

Security turned into a trial… I’m rolling my eyes here, but here is a actual copy of a text I sent to a friend while waiting for the guys to sort their shit:

Oh my god… I can’t transit with these two ADHD squirrel-brained fuckers at the same time! 😵
One had a 500ml can of 196 in his carry-on so they pulled him out of the line… while he simultaneously misplaced his smart watch and had to hunt through hand luggage that looked like it was packed by a bipolar raccoon to find where he’d stashed the damned thing barely two minutes earlier! The other had six very teeny (but very stabby!) steel souvenir forks in his backpack 🙄 and we had to wait another five minutes while he rifled though that backpack which also looked like it was packed by some sort of escaped rabid lab monkey! And I’m sitting there thinking, “Seriously MFers?!” 😐 I’m the one with the titanium knee and the only one not causing dramas at security!”

Preserved for posterity!

The JAL First Class Lounge was busy, and not as calm or as nice as the one at Narita… but we no complain: saké on tap and sushi delivered to your table (though I was no longer hungry after the tuna on tuna platter earlier. It had been an unexpectedly warm day, so showers and cool drinks were much appreciated no matter what. The lounge is very stylish in a Japan meets Scandinavian minimalism kinda way.

I loved this wall near the shower corridors… it’s covered in nails and each nail has a round token hanging from it creating a design that is obviously Fuji in JAL colours.

Damn, forgot to photograph the hair dryer. 😉

Yale managed to try most of the menu… I was just keen to rehydrate and get ready to take some drugs and hopefully sleep the night away.

So, being in the lounge getting ready to fly home, of course my mind was wandering to the next trip… and I don’t mean the cruise to NZ in January (or the weekend popover to Auckland next weekend), I mean, we are back in Japan next May for the Transport and Mobility expo at Osaka 2025. I’m hoping to tack on a few days in Hokkaido, as Mr K is keen to sus out the integrated transport options for the Shinkansen between Hakodate and Aomori. Anyway… got me wondering what the mascot for Hokkaido was… and it’s this strange ‘round moss head dude’ who is always depicted with a huge package! Marimakkori is his name. I feel like photographing him with small children is almost as bad as getting a pic of your kid with Pedo-Bear… oh wait, who would do that? Right, we would.

Big dong Marimakkori! Then I saw this cartoon of him and was wondering… are those? No, surely not!

Thankfully the translation proved it to be not as obscene as it could have been! But, Japan – you never know what to expect. Point in case*:

* I can neither confirm nor deny whether I may or may not have been the one who set his Messenger nick to that at some point on this trip. LOL.

Before too long, it was time to board, and Mr K and I went straight in with our Group 1 boarding fanciness. Sadly, Yale was in cattle having missed out on his upgrade. I felt so bad, all 5’ nothing of me in the front, and 6’9” of him in the back… but as I was walking down the gangway, I saw he was held up. The ladies at the boarding switched out his boarding pass and he was given the very last seat in the business cabin after all! I wonder if it was that bottle of Moët & Chandon that won the day! 🙂

Yale looking very happy with his unexpected and very last minute wash!

We were offered a late supper, which given I hadn’t eaten in the lounge was welcome – though I have to say, the quality of the Qantas Japanese set meal seems to have gone down from last year. I can’t honestly say if it’s just my impression because we have been eating fabulous and delicious kaiseki meals on this trip, or whether it really has slipped a bit. I know Qantas domestic meals have definitely been a bit on the ordinary since Vanessa took over, (and as a shareholder I heartily approve of cost cutting measures, but as a consumer of the product, I’m all like: “Fuck you!”), so it’s possible that it’s not as good as I recall.

Flight was uneventful, no stinky feet, no crying children, not even any snoring businessmen!

Early storms in Sydney caused delays for our flight, but we made it back to Brisbane by about midday… and were met with gloriously blue skies and 29°C at home.

Hopefully, I’ll find time for a nap, and then Hatsune Miku tonight! 🙂

Driving in America Sucks Arse. Period.

Since leaving Australia on June 8th, I have travelled far, though perhaps not so wide really, across the US. And one thing that seems to drive most of Aussies absolutely nuts when travelling over here is, driving in the States.

Approximate kilometres driven…

Canada: 2,430 kms
Alaska: 1,280 kms
Nevada, Utah, Arizona and California: 3,260 kms
Pennsylvania: about 240 kms

Anyway, with that little summary, I think I can safely say I am able to comment with some vague authority (or at least with excessively biased opinion based on personal experience) on Aussies driving in the US. 🙂 There are so many things that make driving here difficult for someone coming from Australia – the big obvious ones of course, are that you are sitting on the opposite side of the vehicle from that which you are accustomed to, and you are driving on the wrong side of the road! In all honesty, it didn’t take me that long to get used to driving on the righthand side of the road, well no longer than learning the quirks of a different vehicle. And after a few days the only time I had to even think about which side of the road I should be on was when exiting car parks, and occasionally when turning left at large intersections.

No, there were far more annoying things about driving here than just being on the wrong side of the road and the wrong side of the car! For example there is the complete lack of indicator lights on most vehicles. For some reason they do not have orange/amber indicator, or signal lights, on their cars. Instead, they just have the red brake lights flash when the indicator is put on. It wouldn’t be so bad, but if someone has their indicators on while they are braking… it is often really fucking hard to tell that the person in front of you is actually indicating and is therefore intending to turn. It makes no sense to me. So many of the vehicles here are similar in make and model to those at home (monster trucks excepted) so either we are altering the design of them to make the indicators orange and more obvious, or they are altering them to be red on red with a red motif and therefore, less noticeable?! Dunno. But it totally sucks depending on the scenario and it makes no sense whatsoever. Such a tiny little thing like amber indicator lamps would probably save countless lives.

Another thing I severely dislike here was the lack of signs telling you how far it was to your destination. This was pretty much anywhere. In Australia I leave Brisbane and head to the Gold Coast, and some where along the way will be a big sign telling me which highway I am on and distances to extended destinations… so literally on the way to the coast there is a sign that says ‘SYDNEY… 978kms’ along with distances to smaller stops on the way. Here? You’re lucky to ever get a sign that tells you how far it is to the next town, let alone how far it is to the one after that or the next major metropolis on the road you’re on. Without the GPS telling us how far things were, we would have been all at sea and never knowing how far we had left on our trips.

And speaking of fucking signage… what is with the ‘Last fuel for 157 miles’ signs being placed on the road either AT the fuel station in question, or worse still, AFTER you’ve passed the fuel station! No shit, we kept seeing signs saying that there was x miles until the next opportunity for fuel AFTER we had passed said opportunity. Stupid bloody nonsensical lack of system if you asked me.

Another pet hate I have discovered over here is the 4-Way or All Way Stop sign. These are usually found at the sort of intersection that doesn’t have enough traffic to warrant a traffic light, but more than enough to just leave it with a couple of give way signs – the sort of place we would put a roundabout and all be giving way to the right as a rule. Now the problem with these intersections is that NO ONE seems to know who has right of way. I have asked at least a dozen different people from Canada, Alaska, California, Nevada, Arizona, Wisconsin, Virginia, you fucking name it. None of them were entirely sure who has right of way at a 4-Way Stop sign. Some people told me that who ever arrived at the Stop signs first had right of way, some people told me it was people going straight on had right of way, followed by people turning right and then finally anyone turning left. One guy even told me who ever had the damn biggest truck had right of way at these intersections! Every single time I approached them I’d be entering the intersection with my hands metaphorically thrown in the air going ‘I dunno who gets to go!?!’, and that pretty much remained the way of it for traversing these particular traffic control cluster fucks for the entire duration of my trip.

But worse than non existent indicators and 4-Way Stop signs, were the speed limits. Up in Alaska, you could go 40 miles without seeing a speed limit sign, so if you were over taking a truck, taking in the scenery or just plain missed it… you never knew what the damn speed limit was! Not that it really mattered anyway, because NO ONE is EVER doing the speed limit – having NO SPEED CAMERAS will kinda do that. Whether there is one lane or eight moving in your direction, I don’t think I saw a single person actually moving at the speed limit through any of the states or provinces I drove – British Columbia and Alberta in Canada; Nevada, Arizona, Utah, California and Pennsylvania in the US. There would be the occasional truck doing the speed limit, but everyone else it seems to be doing a minimum of 5-10mph to a maximum of 20-30mph OVER the posted speed limits. No shit. Everyone speeds here and everyone is in a hurry. And if you are driving here, you sure as hell better keep up with the traffic or you’ll find someone doing 75mph tailgating you pretty darn quickly, and they think nothing of riding your arse until you find a way to get out of their path… that or start honking their horns at you. So impatient it’s unbelievable. The most discourteous drivers I’ve ever had the misfortune to encounter were in the South-West, primarily in California. In hindsight, I’m a little surprised we made it out of that area unscathed.

Another extra special fucking fun piece of shit traffic rules that no one tells you about is the turning right at red lights. It seems you may be able to turn right when the lights are red… I think… well most of the time you can sort of. Occasionally you would see a sign that says no turning right on red signals, but for the most part it seemed okay. But I was never quite sure as we went from state to state, so… erring on the side of caution, I got in the habit of stopping and waiting no matter what. Sometimes I was obviously doing the right thing as the people behind me were quite happy to wait too, but then there were times I was obviously supposed to go, at which point some impatient bastard behind me would start honking his horn and inching closer to my bumper to make me go right on the red anyway. But I could never tell the fucking difference. By the end of it, I just adopted a kinda ‘approach, stop and see if someone honks’ method that seemed to mostly work for us… mostly. :S

Oh and even more driving fun – in Alaska, there are many major roads that are pretty much closed for the vast majority of the year due to severe weather, and only opened back up in the summer with the tourist season. It seems to be a yearly ritual… the snow melts, the roads get trashed, the Powers That Be decide which bits need to be rebuilt, renovated, worked on or whatever. Anyway, they get fixed, tourists come, then winter comes and then repeat renovation of destroyed roads again every spring. Or at least that’s the theory. Driving along some of these hideously shoddy, almost makeshift, roads in Alaska was down right dangerous. The speed limits were mostly 55mph or 65mph, and the roads were not level or remotely even and shoulder-less and poorly banked, but the worst of it was the overtaking lane markings were dodgy as all hell. I think they kinda sorta remarked the overtaking lines each spring roughly where they might have been the year before rather than surveying the current state of the road. The result of which was, so many times I went to pull out to over take a truck or RV, when the line markings indicated it was safe to do so, only to discover that the line markings were full of shit! And that visibility towards the oncoming traffic was either very poor to non-existent! You’d pull out, realise you couldn’t see around the bloody obvious looming corner, or that there was a huge dip ahead and couldn’t see didley, and would have to swiftly pull back in behind the slow moving vehicle to avoid potentially making a very, very bad decision. If I had used and trusted the line markings on some on some of the roads in Alaska, I strongly believe they would have eventually gotten us killed. It was no surprise that people up there told us most motor vehicle accidents from Anchorage to Denali occur due to speeding and when people are overtaking slower vehicles… next most common cause of motor vehicle accidents – moose strike. 😉

Oh and another thing I totally won’t miss is paying for your fuel BEFORE you can use the pump. Most of the servos we went to wouldn’t accept my international Visa card so I ended up having to go into the kiosk and either LEAVING my Visa with the questionable peoples behind the counter or telling them an arbitrary dollar amount to put in the car that would potentially be over or under what I needed, estimating the right amount being particularly tedious given the whole miles and gallons thing was doing my head it… so much harder than just ‘filling her up’. It was either that or they put a ‘hold’ on your account which they return the unused portion of, when they damn well feel like it, which could be literally days later. On the odd occasion the pump would take my card (PetroCanada in BC, Shell in Nevada and Arizona and 76 in California were okay), it all worked well and after weeks of this, I’m probably now far more likely to pay at the pump at home and skip going into the shop. You know, come to think about it, the little petrol station convenience stores are really shooting themselves in the foot by not forcing their customers to come in to pay for their petrol and impulse buy snacks and drinks….? Oh, in another major pain in the arse move of fucktardery, down in California, many petrol stations would get you to swipe your card and then ask for your zip code. No doubt people think this is some sort of verification process against their card akin to entering the CCV number to check that it matches – but several times I tried entering random zip codes to try and avoid going into the store. The zip code for my hotel worked fine once. My own postcode with a zero chucked on for good measure was also fine on occasion. The zip code of the guy at the next pumped worked fine for me too… so definitely not verifying against information held on file that relates to the card! Most of the time however, it just rejected my bogus zip code entries and I had to trudge into the shop anyway. Grrrr…

The first time I drove in the US, was a sort of baptism of fire – picking up a car at LAX after a long haul flight from London. Far out what a nightmare… no GPS back then. But this time was seriously, no fucking better at all.

UPDATE:
JeysusTittieFuckingKrist!!!! I’m home! Which is awesome because I’m looking and feeling as bad as the person in my passport photo, so it was well and truly time to come home. However, I jumped into my car this afternoon to pick up a parcel that I had sent myself and that was a complete disaster. Oh yeah, btw, USPS International Priority Post can go get fracked with a rake… I sent a 13lb flat rate box from Healy Alaska on July 5th and it was supposed to be here in 3-5 business days. Only arrived today: 30th July. Bastards… but I digress.

I drove to the post office after spending exactly 32 hours, 18 minutes and 34 seconds in transit (yeah chucked on the stopwatch on my phone for shits and giggles). I had trouble staying on the left side of the road. I switched the wipers on at least four times to indicate I was turning the corner. I jerked us all over the place as I seem to have forgotten how to drive a manual vehicle. I almost turned us out of the car park and into the oncoming traffic… Not to mention that every bastard on the road was pissing me off. I couldn’t figure out while everyone was going so slow! And then I realized that everyone was doing the speed limit.

So it seems I’ve spent the last two months in training for driving like a Californian and it might take a while to dial it down to drive all proper li again! 😀

PS – Roundabouts rock! No more 4Way Stop signs!

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