But I have to say, seeing Mount Fuji from the air was nothing short of breathtaking.
Three on-time flights. Well two on-time and one early, thanks to a 176 mile an hour tailwind from Nagoya to Detroit.
The flight from Guam to Japan was nearly empty. I had the entire first-class cabin to myself. (And all the fresh fruit, coffee, and raisin bread I wanted for breakfast.) The hotel in Guam left me a little basket on the first day I was there, along with a plate of fruit and some bottled water. The little basket was the perfect size for a small and highly fragile trinket I brought back for Shea. I had the basket in my hand or near me the entire trip home. On the flight from Guam the basket got its own seat. (It didn't want any breakfast.)
It was this trip's turtle.
Which will require some explanation.
Several years ago, Bill, Shea and I went to Cozumel. Shea found a small glass turtle on a thin glass rod that she had to have. The turtle got hand-carried by me or Bill the entire trip home. We found ourselves saying, "where's the turtle," all the way back.
Last summer when we went to Bonaire, I put all three of our passports and other important stuff into a zippered case designed for such, and right before we left for the airport, I held out the case to Bill and Shea and said, "this is the turtle." And they both understood without my saying anything else.
And like before, "turtle" was part of our vocabulary. Where's the turtle. It's in the turtle. Did you put it back in the turtle.
So the basket was my turtle this trip.
When I got home, I was comforted to find an alleged recent wind storm didn't do any damage at my house. Also comforted by the get-home routine.
I walk in the back door, put my (two) bags down, and immediately go change all my clothes, brush my teeth, and put my hair up. Then I unpack the suitcase and backpack.
Much the same as usual except this time I have several souvenirs to unpack, and Yen in my wallet when I dump out all my change.
And tattoo maintenance to do. I went back Friday evening. The artist had made three sketches, all of which exceeded my wildest expectations. But one spoke to me right away, and so it was done, to perfection, about an hour later.
He also filled in a small spot on my firedancer that, once all healed, was a little lighter than the rest. It was unfortunate that the light spot was at her crotch. Otherwise I probably would have left it.
When I showed it to him he said, "that's going to take me all day," then laughed really loud. He and the other guy that worked there were both very nice.
Everyone there was nice. And if you ever go to Guam, I highly recommend the Hilton. It was spotless. The elevators were fast. They had great food, a coffee shop in the lobby, lots of stores, a great pool and pool bar, nightly entertainment, and some seriously comfortable beds. With perhaps the greatest pillows EVER, and the smoothest writing hotel pens I have ever encountered.
When I checked out this morning I asked for an extra one, and came home with a whole handful.
So what I brought back that I didn't take with me.
Seven t-shirts.
Two magnets.
Shea's prize.
Plus the turtle.
My prize - a large red Swarovski pendant.
Two airline amenity kits.
One tiny jar of sand from Asan Beach.
Eleven hotel pens.
Five coasters.
Three rocks.
One book.
Fifteen hotel-turn-down-service pieces of chocolate.
(Now fourteen.)
The usual papers - hotel receipt, car receipt, boarding passes.
And one unusual - half a piece of blue paper with the name, phone number, and email address of the very handsome guy on the second floor of the plane on the flight back from Japan.
All of which fit in the same two bags I took with me.
