“Mr. Smith-Mena?” A Japanese flight attendant at the gate asked as I tried to look calm, cool, and collected. “Yes, thank you,” I replied, handing her my boarding pass as I wiped the sweat off my forehead and forearms, a telling sign of my panicked sprint through the airport. The ever so friendly flight attendants smiled and closed the gate behind me. I boarded the plane, found my seat, and as my adrenaline faded, slipped into a reassuring sleep where I reflected on just how lucky I had been.
The flight itself was quick, less than two hours. (How long did it take for you to get to the airport Mario?) I’m glad you asked. The trip TO the airport took a whopping two and half hours, longer than the actual flight. If you’re traveling to Japan, you can except the same, as the main airport is tucked away two hours away from the city. I’m sure there’s a reason for this, but EVERY time I travel, the absolute worst part of the trip, is getting from home to airport.
Alas, I woke up as we landed, and there I was, in a new city, ready to resume the adventure. After exploring the city by foot for an hour or two, I realized, I REALLY REALLY need to get rid of these pants, somehow, someway. I pull out my phone and find a Patagonia store, 3 kilometers away from my location. Perfect. The only way to get there was by walking or by taxi, so I decided to save some cash and burn some calories. About 20 minutes into my walk, I realized they closed in an hour, so…..my “explore the city pace” turned into a “seriously…..again?….” pace. I got to the store with 30 minutes to spare.
“Konban wa….ano…..eigo ga?….” I stumbled through, in my then preschool Japanese (that has since been upgraded to Kindergarten level Japanese). “Shou shou o-machi kudasai” the man replied as he looked around, then called a women to the counter. In the best English I have seriously ever heard in Japan, “How may I help you?” “Whoah,” I stupidly muttered, as I always do when caught off guard by great English. “Umm…I bought these pants yesterday, and….they’re a little tight. Would you happen to have any that could fit me?” She pulled these blue pants out and had me try them on. Still. Too. Tight. I walked out and shook my head. She laughed, “You have very thick legs.” I can count with one hand, the number of times I’ve been complimented on my legs. I had no idea if she meant it as a compliment, or just as a matter of fact, but I blushed and grinned as if someone had just proposed to me, “Really hoping you have a larger size.” They did, I tried them on, and for the first time in 8 hours, my legs could breathe. “I’ll buy two.” I picked a grey pair and we went to the counter.
I asked her if I could return the other unworn skinny pair I had in my bag. “Of course.” Then I pushed my luck and asked if I could return the pair I had been previously wearing. These pants weren’t cheap! “Sorry I don’t think so…” she replied with a frown. Just as I was saying I understood, she motioned for me to wait and went off to talk to her manager, the guy that supposedly didn’t speak English. She said something, he said something, she said something, he nodded his head, she returned smiling and told me I could in fact return my misery pants. I couldn’t have been more thankful.
She asked what I was doing in Japan, and I told her I wanted to hike something cool. “Which mountain?” It hadn’t hit me until just then that I had done ZERO research on ANY mountains in Hokkaido because I had been so focused on just getting there….and then my pants. “Haha, actually I don’t really know, do you recommend anything?” I could see the passion glowing off her skin as she told me about a mountain called Asahidake, Mt. Asahi. She showed me pictures of some cool hikes she did there over the winter and I was really impressed by how nice and adventurous this woman was. She explained how to get there, and that was that. In the morning I would wake up, and head towards Asahidake.