Looking out my window, the soup gets thicker. The plane continues
downward. Now I can see only bright white fog outside. We continue downward.
Down. Down. Down. “Jesus Christ, how long can we continue down before we hit
the ground?”Hemust have been listening. Instantly, we pass below the ceiling
and hit the ground with a jolting thud. Spoilers and thrust reversers deploy.
Engines roar. The plane slows almost to a stop and begins to taxi.

Passengers cheer!

Stopping now in our designated place, the captain’s voice is heard once
more:

“On behalf of Canadian Pacific Airlines and the entire crew, I would like to
thank you all for flying Canadian Pacific. We all look forward to you choosing
Canadian Pacific for your next flight.”

Passengers jeer!

Smiling to themselves as they retrieve bags from the overhead
compartments, all make a silent pact never to fly Canadian Pacific Airlines again.

We are in Japan! We have landed at Haneda, Tokyo’s international airport.
There is no dock here for our plane. Passengers walk down steps and across
tarmac to the terminal where their bags await. As I step onto the tarmac, my
knees sag. Here in Tokyo it’s 110 degrees F (46 degrees C); the humidity is 99
percent; and the ceiling, as we found out when landing, is about forty feet.

Adjusting to the climate here will require some time. But first I have to find
Randy. I have absolutely no idea where he is. Somewhere in Japan. I’m in Japan,
so there should be no problem.

Inside the terminal, I retrieve my knapsack from baggage and head back into
the Turkish bath that is the Japanese summer. I go to the taxi stand where
uniformed drivers with white gloves stand polishing their gleaming cabs. Speaking
no Japanese, I approach one and hand him the piece of paper upon which Randy
printed his address. The taxi driver, speaking no English, returns it to me, pushes a
button opening the trunk and drops my knapsack inside. The rear passenger’s door
opens by itself. I slide in onto the seat. My white gloved liveried chauffeur climbs
in behind the wheel and we’re away.

After first being impressed with taxi cabs in Japan, I next notice that
everyone here drives on the left-hand side of the road, just like England. Then as

page:

9

Japanby Morley Evans

November 21, 2000