Sarah's 40th In Japan

The trip started from three airports: Zach and Caitlin from Colorado, Sarah from New York, and Ashley from San Francisco. Sarah and Ashley had actual first class. Zach and Caitlin had bulkhead seats, which were immediately promoted to the first class of economy. A technically accurate phrase if you do not look at it too closely.

Japan started doing Japan things right away: long immigration line, QR-code efficiency, airport beers, mystery appetizers, and udon that was better than airport food has any right to be.

Ashley was briefly in the correct place in spirit only, because she was giving the right landmark answers from the wrong terminal. Eventually everyone found everyone, which is the minimum viable arrival day.

Breakfast from 7-Eleven seemed like a safe opening move until the hotel lobby made it clear that no, this was not a dining room. Breakfast retreated upstairs with dignity mostly intact.

The guide was waiting in the lobby while the group was outside. This was resolved by phone service and humility, two useful travel technologies.

Shibuya Crossing did what Shibuya Crossing does: made a normal street crossing feel like a coordinated event. Hachiko added the emotional counterweight, because apparently Tokyo can also make a dog statue do narrative work.

Tokyo was busy and touristy and still awesome, which is annoying only because it is exactly what Tokyo was supposed to be.

The Shinjuku food tour was not subtle. Two restaurant stops, pork samples, dessert, and Sarah accidentally wearing the bathroom slippers around one restaurant. Some jokes have to be written. Some arrive wearing incorrect footwear.

Forwarding the luggage to Kyoto was the first genius move of the trip. Getting to Koyasan with full luggage would have been less spiritual retreat and more competitive dragging.

Leaving Tokyo also produced the train-station phone-smack incident, when Sarah was filming and a local made it clear, loudly and physically, that this was not approved cinematography.

The bullet train out of Tokyo also delivered gyozas and bentos, making the travel day a Sarah highlight before the route started requiring every other train in Japan.

The ryokan was tucked into nature with connected rooms and paper-thin walls. Sarah proposed a 4-0 sleeping arrangement, which was bold, chaotic, and ultimately defeated by reason.

The ryokan and cemetery became one of Sarah's big highlights. The pants required for the cemetery tour became the lowlight, because every trip needs one purchase that feels less like shopping and more like paying a logistical ransom.

Meditation was calm. Temple dinner was memorable and gelatinous enough to support Sarah's theory that someone had received a Jell-O maker and made it everyone else's problem.

Then Nori at Okunoin delivered the trip's most durable phrase: throat bone, small box, big box. Beautiful sacred cemetery, centuries of history, profound atmosphere, and yes, the quote survived all of it.

The Koyasan morning began with Zach's work alarm going off at 6:00 AM in a building where walls were more of a suggestion. A peaceful temple morning, aggressively introduced.

Kyoto started properly with Gion, earrings for Linda, chopsticks at Hashi Lab, and conveyor-belt sushi. The Hashi Lab was about 20 minutes away, and only later did everyone learn there was another one near the hotel. Extremely normal vacation behavior. Briefly.

The next morning started at 5:00 AM for Fushimi Inari. The loop was done in about an hour, because apparently Sarah's 40th birthday trip also came with time-trial rules.

The Fushimi Inari gates, the bamboo, and the zen garden all made Sarah's highlight list, proving the scenic parts did still register between logistics problems.

Getting to the e-bike tour involved two trains, one wrong-direction bus, and a taxi recovery. Still on time. No notes, except maybe one note about checking bus direction.

The highest e-bike assist setting looked like a volcano character, so volcano mode became the official term for sending it. Sarah almost ran into a pole, which was less of a mode and more of an unscheduled infrastructure check.

From there, Kyoto was ramen, fried chicken, Nintendo souvenirs, chicken skins with Nick, chicken with cheese on skewers, and karaoke. The chicken-cheese skewers were a Sarah highlight, not the best meal of the trip, which is still a respectable diplomatic outcome for cheese.

Arashiyama happened in rain because the itinerary said Arashiyama and everyone had apparently decided weather was advisory. The bamboo forest still landed, and the monkey park hike said 20 minutes. It took under 10 in a downpour, which Sarah mentioned twice afterward, so apparently it worked.

By the time Osaka arrived, socks and shoes were fully drenched. The Waldorf was exactly as good as expected, and also probably the nicest hotel the group had ever stayed in. Room upgrades, hotel credit, free breakfast, welcome gifts, and luggage arriving about five minutes after check-in did not hurt the case.

Marcus became part of the story immediately. So did the Dyson blow dryer, which performed the rare hotel-room miracle of making soaked shoes wearable again.

Then came robes to the pool, Peacock Lounge views, Canes and Tales for the speakeasy-style drink, and a 15-course sushi dinner that was mostly fish on rice rather than rolls. Terrible burden, bravely endured.

The next morning, the first Waldorf breakfast brought anniversary and birthday plate messages, plus a hand-drawn anniversary card from the staff. Sarah's 40th stayed front and center, with the anniversary and Ashley's birthday riding along as the celebration stack.

Then the rain made a persuasive argument for staying indoors. The morning became Uniqlo and custom shirts and sweatshirts, plus Sarah having to put a bag over her head to try on clothes, which is not how most fitting rooms advertise themselves.

The Waldorf also had a Devil Wears Prada shoe signed by Meryl Streep and Anne Hathaway. Apparently they signed it in Tokyo and it came to Osaka, where the obvious next step was taking a picture with it.

Somewhere in there, a British pub appeared, Guinness happened, and a few minutes of the US World Cup game made it onto the itinerary. Japan remained extremely committed to being surprising.

Dotonbori then delivered the kind of food sequence that makes sense only while traveling: 10-yen-shaped cheese waffles, the Glico Running Man, and melon bread with ice cream inside it.

The group split up for the first time after that: Zach and Caitlin to a sake tour, Ashley and Sarah to facials, everyone rejoining later over wagyu kaiseki. A clean operational split, which is how vacations talk when they have become project management.

The dinner then decided to stop being a bullet point and become a contender for best meal of Sarah's life. Wagyu, matcha tea ceremony, the main owner letting Zach do one too, and apparently the nicest people in Osaka.

Also entering canon: the bento-box photo where everyone held bento boxes except Zach, who held Tokyo Bananas from the Tokyo-to-Koyasan travel day. Sarah's friend reviewed the evidence and issued the ruling: guy in the middle does not have a bento box.

Saturday started with the second Waldorf breakfast, which is when the hotel saved the same table, welcomed everyone back, remembered drink orders, joked around, and surprised the group with anniversary and birthday photo gifts.

Return day began with a taxi to the bullet train station, then bento boxes and fruit mochi for the ride. If the trip had to end, at least it could end with proper train snacks.

There had been a Limited Express option, but the chosen plan was two trains: JY and then the Skyliner. Google Maps gave the total, everyone reloaded Suica for that amount, and for about twelve seconds the plan looked clean.

Then Caitlin had no service, joined Zach's hotspot, and the card got charged without the Suica balance actually appearing. Zach also had never been tapped in at Tokyo Station, so the transfer gate would not let him out. This was all resolved, naturally, right after the first Skyliner left.

Then everyone learned the Skyliner needed separate tickets anyway. Tickets were bought, Suica balances survived with leftover money, and the obvious financial conclusion was reached: now the group has to come back to Japan.

At the airport station, the Suica plot got one more scene. Everyone did have to tap out, Caitlin's card still would not load, more attempts left pending charges, and staff finally used Zach's card to scan her out.

All trip, Sarah kept asking Siri for help and getting nothing useful, while Ashley would ask and get clean answers immediately. A very quiet but firm phone hierarchy had formed.

Then, on the train, Sarah tried Siri again, got no response, put her foot down, and Siri finally came alive at full volume in the train car. After days of silence, naturally this was the moment it found its voice.

Sarah left her Kindle in the room. The hotel offered to ship it to the United States, then ran into the battery rule, because apparently the Kindle was allowed to travel with Sarah but not brave the world on its own.

Zach's official ruling: he did not know she had a Kindle, and now, technically, she did not. Security and immigration were mostly smooth after the train drama, and Ashley split off at Terminal 2 while the rest of the group headed to Terminal 1.

Then Colorado took over. Caitlin discovered her Global Entry had expired when she got booted out of the line, while a TSA agent yelled at people at full volume. After all the careful train etiquette, America reintroduced itself with admirable efficiency.