The man at the desk wanted me out of the hotel at 7.30 am, probably to prepare for the guests coming that day. He came to my door at 7.15 am to ask whether I could leave earlier. I had woken up an hour earlier in anticipation, so I left. I declined breakfast, as I wanted to be at the airport in good time.
I paid £4 for my ticket to the airport and within an hour I was there. Terminal 3 is a building site at the moment. It was busy, too. Weiran had not arrived so I went upstairs to get my 23,000 yen (£100) and then onto Pret À Manger for a cup of tea and a cinnamon danish (you can’t beat cinnamon danish!). I decided I would try out the self checkin. It went ok, so I tried the bag drop. This took slightly longer: a thirty minute queue. As I dropped my bags off, Weiran rang. He was in the queue for online checkin. So that was another half an hour of waiting in queues. Once we were both checked in and ready, we went to go through the security check and that was another half an hour of queueing.
Once on the other side, we went to TGI Friday’s – my first ever. It was quite nice I guess! It was quite a while before our gate number appeared on the screens. We got there in good time though, and took our places on the plane. We went by Virgin Atlantic. The only flights I had ever made thus far were on Easyjet, so I was quite amazed by what awaited me. Screens on the back of seats were just the start. Throughout the flight we were given complimentary goodies, food, drinks and everything needed to have a comfortable journey. I suppose the flight was as comfortable as it could be, sitting in economy on an eleven hour flight. Having said that, I didn’t get a wink of sleep, and not for the want of trying!
I did however get some important things done. I watched two episodes of The Mighty Boosh (ones I had watched already, but funny all the same) and I watched Borat: Cultural Learnings… etc…. It was funny, but I get the impression that much more of it was staged and directed than the producers would let us realise.
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I was rather anxious about going down to London Kings Cross Station. Family had told me that I would not be able to stay at Heathrow Airport overnight, which was my plan. The alternative was to stay at Kings Cross until morning, then head to Heathrow at about 5 am. On arrival, at about ten to midnight, I wandered round a little, searching for some place to sit in the station until dawn. There were plenty of seats: people didn’t seem to want to hang round. It was quite cold so I got a tea and a cinnamon danish (you can’t beat cinnamon danish!) and settled on a cold metal seat.
Soon after, a drunk appeared. It wasn’t immediately apparent that he was drunk, in fact I only noticed him after he projectile vomited what could only be described as “purple”. Clearly dazed and also ridiculously apologetic, he hovered around this purple until an attendant came and tried to clean it up himself, including some rather comical falls over his own mess.
Having established my place in the station for the night, it was just a waiting game until morning. I started playing games such as “looking for every letter of the alphabet in signs at the station” – ‘J’ was quite hard to find. It wasn’t until five minutes before the last train departed (about 1.35 am) that I was informed that the station shuts after the last train, and that I had to leave.
So I wandered round and stopped at the second hotel I came to, Hotel California. I smiled and withdrew the urge to hum The Eagles as I entered. Getting a room proved to be quite a problem for the man on the desk, but he managed to fit me in at the reduced rate of £40 for the night (read three hours). After struggling up ten flights of stairs with my rather large suitcase, there I settled until morning came.
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Well my dear readers, I shall be away to Japan tomorrow! Well… that is if you count getting the train from Newcastle to London ‘on the way to Japan’!
Part of this epic journey will be to navigate myself across London to get to Heathrow on the last tube. I realise there is an element of risk involved here: my train arrives nine minutes before the last tube leaves. I am rather depending on the fact that GNER isn’t a complete arse tomorrow night (it isn’t usually, but if some twat attempts suicide, I shall be rather upset and – even worse – stranded in London). I am also depending on the fact that I can get through the turnstiles in London without too much bother. I shall be lugging around my suitcase, so this isn’t too promising. If anyone spots me, I would appreciate a cup of tea by this point!
But I’m looking forward to going. It’s been a short-lived dream for me. Short-lived because it’s coming true not long after dreaming it! Jonathan Ross’ Japanorama went some way towards creating that dream (and indeed realising that dream, since Weiran is also a fan), and a new series has just started. So if you want to see how mad, passionate and to some degree perverted Japan has become, be sure to watch the programme!
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