Sydney/Tokyo Day 1

Much to my dismay, morning arrived.

I heard movement and thought, great, Erin’s up. She likes an early start, which usually buys me another thirty minutes of sleep.

Being a team player, I rolled over to check my phone. 3:30 am.

Apparently I’d already snoozed my alarm without any recollection, and my thirty minutes of borrowed time had come and gone.

Now I was running into overtime.

After a quick coffee and a couple of slices of biltong, the crew was ready to roll.

I’d packed yesterday. Some of us had been packed for a week.

During the week, Erin had found a little device on Amazon that’s essentially a cryovac for your clothes. When she showed me, I was sceptical. It was a tiny grey vacuum that fitted in the palm of your hand and came with an assortment of ziplock bags.

My first thought was that we’d bought another gadget destined for the junk drawer. To be fair, I am responsible for most of its current residents.

You cram your clothes into a bag, seal it tight, set the vacuum over the one-way valve, and hit the button. Then you watch your wardrobe shrink before your eyes, like a Shrinky Dink in the oven.

Honestly, it’s brilliant.

We went from sharing one large suitcase to sharing a medium one, with room to spare. Another successful purchase from Erin.

Check-in at the airport was routine. Considering the school holidays had just begun, it was surprisingly quiet.

Oli, who normally gets searched two or three times before being allowed to leave the country, slipped through unnoticed for the first time in his travelling life.

First leg: Sydney to Hong Kong. Then Hong Kong to Tokyo.

Take-off was cloudy, so there wasn’t much to see at first. By the time we reached central Australia, though, the clouds had cleared, revealing a whole lot of very little.

It looks brutal down there.

The ground is grey and scorched, like it’s been left under the grill for a few million years. Now and then, a dry riverbed snakes across the landscape, or a lone structure appears in the middle of absolutely nowhere.

You can’t help but wonder who actually lives out there. What do they do all day? And where are they getting their groceries?

Whoever these hardened earthlings are, they must be some tough bastards.

Meanwhile, I’m sitting in an air-conditioned plane, waiting for someone to bring me breakfast.

Erin and the boys went for the egg-and-bacon frittata. I opted for the shiitake congee. Good reviews all round.

With breakfast sorted, I checked out the onboard entertainment. The selection was about as barren as the view out my window.

They tempt you with a promising lineup of TV series. You spend the best part of an hour deciding what to watch, settle on something, get invested, and then discover they’ve only supplied one episode.

Apparently, the budget didn’t stretch to the second.

Anyway, that’s where we are. Somewhere above Australia, fed, slightly tired, and working my way through the available distractions.

You’ll probably hear from me again ...when the boredom peaks.

As it turned out, tiredness got there first.

We landed at Haneda Airport around 8:30 pm.

You may have noticed I’ve skipped an entire leg of the trip. Hong Kong to Tokyo has received absolutely no coverage, mostly because I discovered there’s only so much you can write about hurtling through the sky in a tin can.

For the record, it all went smoothly. No hiccups. Just another few hours of sitting down and somehow getting more tired.

Erin had already pre-booked an Uber for the 45-minute drive into Shinjuku, and this was where we got our first taste of Japanese efficiency.

An entire level of the airport car park is dedicated to rideshare pickups. Back home, we usually allocate about three metres of kerb and let everyone sort it out themselves.

Here, a lovely Japanese lady was running the show.

We arrived at her lobby and, to our relief, she spoke English. She jotted down our driver’s registration number, then directed us to a lounge to wait.

Usually, this part of the journey involves standing beside your luggage while every Uber driver and his dog attempts to claim the same pickup spot.

When our car arrived, she called us over, the driver loaded our bags, and we were on our way.

By this point, our brains had clocked off, so having someone else take charge suited us perfectly. All we had to do was follow instructions, which was about the level of responsibility we could handle.

The drive into Tokyo was mostly underground, so there wasn’t much sightseeing to be had. Probably for the best. I’m not sure my eyes were ready for Tokyo’s full energy. A tunnel was about my speed.

Our apartment for the next three days is actually quite nice. It brings back memories of our old tiny house, though this one is probably a touch roomier.

The boys have a pair of bunk beds at one end, Charlie on top and Oli underneath. Erin and I have a queen bed at the other end.

Between us is a small shower and a toilet from some distant planet. Heated seat, personal bum fountain, music. My arse has never travelled business class before.

It even agitates the water before you get started. I’m calling that “plop mitigation mode.” Sure beats sitting down and hoping for the best.

Travel day was done.

Tokyo could wait until morning.