Just a short cab ride...

So, I finish up my work in the Yokohama/Zama area and hop the bus for Tokyo-Haneda airport. Haneda, it seems, services mainly domestic flights. I've got an early flight on Friday so an agent in our office booked me a hotel for the night near the airport. She asks if it's ok that I have to take a taxi from the airport, once the shuttle drops me off, to the hotel. Sure...

I'm on the bus and as we get close to Haneda is what appears to be a port of entry for ships. The highway we're on crosses a couple of bridges that make the Golden Gate look like a rope bridge. The first in line is a suspension bridge supported by a couple of GIGANTIC H shaped towers. Very modern looking, of course. About 1/4 or 1/2 mile further is another suspension bridge. This one is supported by a couple of towers shaped like upside down V's. The support cables are attached at the median instead of the traditional style where they connect to each side of the roadway. Again, very modern looking. The Japanese don't screw around with their suspension bridges.

So, we get to the airport, stop at my terminal and I get off the bus. Now, I just have to find the arrivals area so I can grab a taxi. I wander around a little and find a sign for the taxi stand. I head over and the attendants asks where I'm going. "Pan Pacific Hotel," I say. He repeats it, says ok, and I load my gear into the taxi. The driver asks where to and I tell him. He clearly doesn't understand. I repeat it a few times, as does he, and then he gets out to ask the attendant. Now, the attendant is asking me where I'm going. I repeat it and now they want the address. I get out, dig my paperwork out of my bag in the trunk and show it to him. Turns out, this is no cab ride...my hotel is IN THE AIRPORT.

I check-in and the place is pretty nice. As is customary in a Japanese hotel, the bellman humps my bag up to the room and rushes out as quickly as he can. Since there is virtually no situation in Japan that requires a tip or, in fact, where a tip would be accepted, I assume he doesn't want that conversation to take place.

After a long hard day, it's time for dinner. Only one restaurant in the hotel and it's empty. So, I decide to look around the terminal. There's about 4 or 5 floor "marketplace" in the hotel so I check it out. Noodles sound good. Plus, sushi in the airport appears to be very expensive. So, I look for a noodle shop. I find one of the traditional counter-style places but it's jammed up. So, I keep walking. I find a couple that don't look like what I'm after. Finally, I find one that is half counter half table seating. I check out some of the bowls and decide I'll give it a shot.

The host takes me the bar and gives me a seat. I sit down and look for a menu. There it is. Hmmm...that's peculiar...no English. Well, "when in Rome"...for those of you who know that line. I look to my left and to my right. I choose the least offenseive bowl of noodles and point it out to the waiter. Easy. About 2 minutes later here comes my soup. Ramen noodles, broth, a sliver of meat, some unidentifiable cut stuff, and a bunch of onion. And, one more thing the Japanese don't screw around with...this soup is so hot it's vaporizing in front of me. Well, the soup was good...too bad I don't know what it was...and I'm short a few layers of tissue.

I should have some good stories this weekend as I'm heading up North to a remote part of the country. I'll be back...