Unexpectedly, there is free internet access available at the Keio Plaza Hotel in the Shinjuku district of downtown Tokyo, which is why I am able to tell you that my trip halfway around the world was successful, albeit long. All told, from the time I left the Harborside Hyatt in Boston this morning with my parents to the time I dropped my bags here in room 1122, I traveled over 7,000 miles in just over 27 hours by shuttle, plane, plane, and bus. I’m exhausted by very glad to have the first leg of my underwater journey complete.
Everything went quite smoothly with one funny anecdote to boot: we were delayed on the tarmac at Logan for about an hour due to some kind of baggage machine malfunction (note: this is not the funny part), so when we arrived in Chicago, everyone was kind of hustling to get across O’Hare to our connecting flight. This was rather silly, since we had almost two hours to spare, but when you put dozens of anxious people together, two hours ceases to feel like a long time. Immediately after dropping my stuff at the gate, I went into the bathroom, and just as I did I heard an announcement over the PA system. Now, because there are no speakers in the bathroom, I couldn’t entirely make out the announcement, but I could’ve sworn it ended with my name. Travel anxiety being what it is, I hustle back to my bags and take an inventory of literally everything I have with me. Satisfied that everything is in order and believing that I am going crazy, I sit down and start to relax. Twenty minutes later, another PA announcement is made, this time calling me to the front desk in no uncertain terms. When I get there, an attendant tells me to report to gate H8 on the other side of the airport, because he just got a phone call saying that they have my cell phone. Now I’m really puzzled, because (a) I deplaned at gate H17 and haven’t been near H8, and (b) I didn’t bring my cell phone with me because it (c) won’t work in Japan.
I tell him these things, and he is satisfied, but am I not, namely because I want to know why they think I left my cell phone there if my cell phone is back in Boston? After all, they asked for me by name. After some pestering, he puts me on the phone with the other attendant, who tells me that they found a cell phone in my seat after the previous plane was emptied, but it doesn’t match the description of any phone I’ve ever owned, so I am in the clear. Unfortunately, one of my neighbors probably lost a cell phone today.
(Better them than me, though–am I right, folks?)