If there's one thing Matthew and I love, it's a good road trip. Road tripping in Japan is no exception. Driving on the opposite side of the road did not take as much adjustment as I anticipated, although much like I did last year, Matthew might beg to differ.
Prior to leaving, we sought advice on the best way to get from Kitakami to Narita Airport, located northeast of Tokyo. We were advised that taking expressways all the way would be best -- and would require that we go through Tokyo. The navigation system in the Cube ("Navi") agreed. So, being a mapless people with no further intelligence, we headed down the beautiful Tohoku Expressway toward Tokyo.
Navigating the Tokyo expressway system had sort of a latter-day "Cannonball Run" feel to it, between Navi's pinging and spoken directions, Matthew's translation of said directions, and proffering of snacks. The expressways themselves were narrow, fast-moving, mostly high-walled roads that were surprisingly easy to drive. Well, easy to drive as long as I focused on staying in my lane, and not on the tankers and tour buses passing me (properly) on the right. Or on the bridges. Especially the ones rising up into high, steep, banked curves. Then I felt like I needed to barf. Or have a beer. Or have a beer after I barfed. Overall, though, driving through Tokyo was easier than driving through, say, Nashville. We got onto the Higashi-Kanto Expressway and to Narita Airport without incident.
At the airport, we met up with our friends and tremendously generous hosts, the Ikezawas, and we settled in to wait. And wait we did. Puller appeared about an hour and twenty minutes after the flight landed, followed by Animal Quarantine Service (AQS) staff pushing carts carrying two...giant...crates. Giant crates meant one thing: FUZZY DOGS!
The AQS people were very efficient and helpful, and we were able to get through the paperwork and out of the airport in relatively short order. For Aki and Moki, this meant freedom from their shipping crates (which we will probably never be able to get them to enter again) and the opportunity to walk around the parking lot before returning to the Ikezawas' house for a relaxing evening and good night's sleep before the next day's trip. It also meant their first trip in the Cube, through the narrowest streets I had driven to date, after dark. It was like navigating streets in Georgetown, but even narrower, and on a different side of the road from the one I drove on for the previous eighteen years.
After a lovely visit with the Ikezawas, including the dogs' first walk in Japan, we piled into the Cube and headed north. We chose an alternate route home, up the coast of Ibaraki Prefecture (surfers -- woo!) to the Joban Expressway, and back to the Tohoku Expressway. Because the Joban Expressway runs sort of east-west across Honshu, we were crossing mountain ranges, rather than running alongside them as we did on the Tohoku Expressway. I believe "Joban" means "tunnel, bridge, tunnel, bridge, tunnel, bridge road" in Japanese, but I could be wrong.
Once we were back on the Tohoku Expressway, the familiarity of the road made us giddy. We knew where we were, and we were on our way home with the rest of our family -- sun shining down on us, descending into the valley overlooking the town of Ichinoseki as we crossed into Iwate Prefecture, and Talking Heads singing "Once in a Lifetime" on the CD player.
Here are Moki and Aki at home, taking a well-deserved rest in the washitsu (Japanese-style room) after a long, long journey.
Prior to leaving, we sought advice on the best way to get from Kitakami to Narita Airport, located northeast of Tokyo. We were advised that taking expressways all the way would be best -- and would require that we go through Tokyo. The navigation system in the Cube ("Navi") agreed. So, being a mapless people with no further intelligence, we headed down the beautiful Tohoku Expressway toward Tokyo.
Navigating the Tokyo expressway system had sort of a latter-day "Cannonball Run" feel to it, between Navi's pinging and spoken directions, Matthew's translation of said directions, and proffering of snacks. The expressways themselves were narrow, fast-moving, mostly high-walled roads that were surprisingly easy to drive. Well, easy to drive as long as I focused on staying in my lane, and not on the tankers and tour buses passing me (properly) on the right. Or on the bridges. Especially the ones rising up into high, steep, banked curves. Then I felt like I needed to barf. Or have a beer. Or have a beer after I barfed. Overall, though, driving through Tokyo was easier than driving through, say, Nashville. We got onto the Higashi-Kanto Expressway and to Narita Airport without incident.
At the airport, we met up with our friends and tremendously generous hosts, the Ikezawas, and we settled in to wait. And wait we did. Puller appeared about an hour and twenty minutes after the flight landed, followed by Animal Quarantine Service (AQS) staff pushing carts carrying two...giant...crates. Giant crates meant one thing: FUZZY DOGS!
The AQS people were very efficient and helpful, and we were able to get through the paperwork and out of the airport in relatively short order. For Aki and Moki, this meant freedom from their shipping crates (which we will probably never be able to get them to enter again) and the opportunity to walk around the parking lot before returning to the Ikezawas' house for a relaxing evening and good night's sleep before the next day's trip. It also meant their first trip in the Cube, through the narrowest streets I had driven to date, after dark. It was like navigating streets in Georgetown, but even narrower, and on a different side of the road from the one I drove on for the previous eighteen years.
After a lovely visit with the Ikezawas, including the dogs' first walk in Japan, we piled into the Cube and headed north. We chose an alternate route home, up the coast of Ibaraki Prefecture (surfers -- woo!) to the Joban Expressway, and back to the Tohoku Expressway. Because the Joban Expressway runs sort of east-west across Honshu, we were crossing mountain ranges, rather than running alongside them as we did on the Tohoku Expressway. I believe "Joban" means "tunnel, bridge, tunnel, bridge, tunnel, bridge road" in Japanese, but I could be wrong.
Once we were back on the Tohoku Expressway, the familiarity of the road made us giddy. We knew where we were, and we were on our way home with the rest of our family -- sun shining down on us, descending into the valley overlooking the town of Ichinoseki as we crossed into Iwate Prefecture, and Talking Heads singing "Once in a Lifetime" on the CD player.
Here are Moki and Aki at home, taking a well-deserved rest in the washitsu (Japanese-style room) after a long, long journey.
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