We first twigged something was up while in the customs queue - when approximately 300 Japanese school kids materialised. Our flight was apparently the return leg of an overseas jaunt for a seething throng of.... pretty well-behaved teens, all things considered. Josh was repeatedly labelled 'kawai' by a host of giggling girls. While this attention would normally bring out the showman in our 2 year old, he instead preoccupied himself with draping over the nearest parental figure available (a promising sign for our over-night flight).
The flight was so uneventful (apart from neither Jen or I sleeping for more than 30 mins for the duration of the 9 hour flight) that the pilot had to slow down so as not to get to Narita too early.
I managed to snag a bottle-shaped can (you Crazy Japanese folk) of Pocari Sweat - which despite the name actually tastes kind of lemony. I managed to steer Hamish and Josh away from the more traditional toilets (imagine a ceramic hole in the ground if you will), and both boys were tickled-pink by the automated soap dispenser, tap and hand dryer. Josh continued to drape himself, only had now progressed to the airport floor, backpacks, and slow moving elderly folk. After some angst with both International ATMs and baffled ticket sellers - we eventually walked away with some tickets. It turns out that we somehow agreed to get a ticket for a train by-passing Narita proper (where we had wanted to go) and were now heading along an express line to somewhere in Tokyo.
Our increasingly over-acted looks of concern caught the attention of one Tokyoite who had been busy playing the role of a Silent Commuter Man. Unfortunately for him, he made eye contact with us - so he was all ours. It turns out this particular gentleman lived for a time in Gosford (approximately 70 minutes from our house), and engaged enthusiastically once we overcame what he called a racial tendency towards shyness. We spoke about a range of topics (we kept steering him towards what station we should get off at), until a Wasp-like thing the size of a Budgie entered the carriage at one of the stops along the way. Normally inscrutable commuters were flapping their hands and fleeing towards each end of the carriage. I was about to break into a bit of, "You call that a wasp....", when I was advised by our new acquaintance that this particular insect/demon was infamous for the toxic payload it carried. Eventually, one of the brave train stewards came in, brandishing his snow-white gloves, and heroically......rolled down a window - crisis averted.
We eventually and reluctantly said goodbye to our impromptu tour guide, and found ourselves in Nishi-ogikubo - where we shall be crashing for the next several nights. Firmly entrenched in suburbia, I was surprised by the range and quaintness of various restaurants, cafes, bakeries as well as what must be one of the longest (I needed a little rest part way along) supermarkets I've seen. We've been unabashedly/embarrassingly enthusiastic in pointing out all the quirky items in the aisles, and stunned by the reliance on the honesty of shoppers in the shops layout (I had to walk back into the shop at one point to pay for a purchase).
Nishi-ogikubo - I think the shop on the corner sells sweet bun-things.
Will investigate further tomorrow!
Somehow I've managed to stave off collapse with a liberal dosage of Boss - which appears to be cold, overly-sweet coffee in a can. Tomorrow shall see us 'head into town', taking a peek at Tokyo city centre itself.
Super-happy-fun bites of flaky corn!
