Year: 2008

So, I was going to write something about how the night began with a nice dinner at a traditional Japanese restaurant then got a little weird when we went to an “international” bar.

From the moment we stepped off the train at the Tsukijishijo subway station, the aroma was evident. The Tsukiji Fish Market was nearby.

The streets were bright tonight — so much so that it seemed like it was daytime. It might as well have been. I’m not sure what time it is. All I know is: It’s evening here in Japan and we’re going to grab something to eat.

It’s a shame when you think about it. The first sights and sounds you see the first time you step foot in a country are those of the airport.

“Would you the chicken or pasta?” the steward asks passengers. I begin to shake at the prospect of airline food. It’s one of the world’s true atrocities. Honestly, who else can make a strawberry taste bad?

The trip begins amid a mass of people — chaos as thousands of travelers search their luggage for three-ounce bottles of liquids in “zip-top” bags and laptop computers so they can be scrutinized separately by airport security.