Three more pages (in the order drawn) of my trip to Japan. The first two are from the first morning in the airport hotel just outside of Tokyo before we caught the train (last picture) to Kyoto, where the trip really got started.
The best part of the rather generic airport hotel was that it had a really great "American" sports bar with a baseball bat for a handle and a hodgepodge of international sports equipment tacked up everywhere. A sign announced the superbowl party would start at 7 a.m. the next morning. I'm still disappointed that I missed out on the free bar snacks. In my disorientation from the flight and general culture shock, when the waiter brought a platter of onion rings, fries, calamari, and some Japanese snacks around to our table I waived him away, meekly saying he had the wrong table.
Little did I know you were supposed to hand pick each item I wanted from the basket, placing it on a small plate. It was table side buffet. The oddness of watching a bar full of people, one-by-one, carefully choosing individual fries with a pair of tongs did nothing to dispel the aching lack of fried foods that was growing inside me. I readied myself for his return , which never happened. It is one my life's great regrets.