It's been a week since I came home from Tokyo. A little funny to think about, given the weeks I spent agonizing over the decision of whether I wanted to even go on the trip or not, and the month I spent after that going full-on apocalypse-bunker mode, trying to prepare for every possible thing that could go wrong.
It made me a little sick to think about going back to the airport and on a plane for the first time since January, when I flew home with my dad and thought we had this whole new year ahead of us, none the wiser that he would be gone just nine days later. If anything went wrong on the trip, I wouldn't be able to call home. And if anything went wonderful, I still wouldn't be able to call home and tell him all about it. It was a scary and isolating and heartbreaking thought.
But I'd applied for a Japanese visa as soon as I got my latest ITR, and I got a five-year one. Five whole years of no more documents and waiting around, of just needing to buy a ticket and leaving whenever I want. What a relief, and how freeing. (Of course, I would still need to pace myself, because the expenses tend to be a significant dent in my net worth.) I suddenly had a passport that's ready to go anytime, spring was about to end, and I would have to wait until September to experience any cold again.
The idea of going didn't get any less scary, but I told myself I couldn't let what I went through stop me from enjoying a good opportunity, because I could rely on myself, and I could give myself this.
So I went.
Weeks later and I was in Odaiba, peering up at a life-size Gundam statue under the pleasant spring sun.
A group tour was the perfect first trip with this visa: I'd never been to Tokyo before so it wouldn't feel repetitive, it had stops in places that aren't quite as accessible, and there was a free day where I could study and practice commuting by myself for when I returned, this time completely solo. Having social anxiety and no choice but to travel alone, I've found that group tours are great for going on autopilot and following along wherever the wind (and the tour bus) takes you. Like that song "I Love the Unknown" from the Rocket Science soundtrack, except you knew just enough to keep anxiety at bay.
Of course, me being me, I looked at the itinerary and did extensive research on every place we would be visiting, making checklists on my weekly planner app (so handy!) so I wouldn't miss a single thing.
That first day, we mostly went around Aqua City. I was sitting in the food court wondering why they've decided it was a must for tourists to visit a mall when I heard excitable puppy barks. Across from my table was a pet shelter. In the middle of a mall! I suddenly never wanted to be anywhere else.
There were lots of puppies and kittens around, all of them so sweet and playful. An adorable toy poodle kept pawing at the glass when I gave it a bit of attention. But my heart was instantly won over by Marin-chan, who's a little older than everybody and has the most gentle, prim demeanor. She reminded me so much of my kitty-nephew Fifi, and I miss her already.
After dinner we hung out a little on this floor with a row of shops that made it feel like a retro '80s alley, with vintage gift shops and old-school arcade games and vending machines. We passed through the Rainbow Bridge on our way to the hotel, which gave us beautiful views of Tokyo Bay at sunset and was probably my favorite moment of the entire day.
(I didn't know it was Tokyo Bay until I sat down to write this, and now I'm listening to "Tokyo Bay" by The Academy Is..., a deep cut that was a vinyl bonus track.)
We set out early the next day for our trip to Mt. Fuji. I'd made sure to buy a cozy puffer jacket to prepare for the cold when we disembarked at the 5th Station. Like clockwork, I fell asleep on the drive, but I woke up to the most surreal view.
At the 5th Station, we visited the Fujisan Komitake Shrine and I bought a few souvenirs and collected stamps at the local rest house. The drive up was unlike anything I've ever seen or experienced, just lush forest all around made even more breathtaking by the huge bus windows. We even spotted some deer milling about.
Lunch was at Fuji-Q Highland, the local theme park. I got a chicken teriyaki rice bowl and sat with our tour guide Yuki, who's quite warm and friendly. We talked while we ate. I learned that she's been guiding tours for a few years as a freelancer, and it's her retirement job after working at a travel agency, then moving to the States to become a language teacher and translator. "So it was natural," she said of the tour guide gig. "It connects to all my previous jobs."
I had just enough time when we finished eating to book it to the yakisoba shack, where they're also selling the ice cream I've been dreaming about for years: Cremia, a softcream (what they call soft-serve) that tastes extra rich with Hokkaido fresh cream and milk fat, and a buttery lengua de gato-type cone that brings it to a whole new level of melt-in-your-mouth. It was everything I'd imagined and more.
Just before the entry gates to the theme park was La Ville de Gaspard et Lisa, the most charming little walk that transported you straight into the world of these puppy BFFs. With a cafe, tea and dessert shop, souvenir shop, grand carousel, and garden with its own mini-Eiffel Tower, the entire area looked just like a chic rue en Paris. I especially adored the bakery, which had super cute Gaspard and Lisa and Mt. Fuji-themed cookies and smelled heavenly thanks to the freshly made caramel cakelets. I wish we'd had more time to linger around it a bit longer.
Our final stop for the day was the premium outlet mall in Gotemba. I've been on a couple of group tours that also made stops at outlet malls, but I never really found them interesting since I could never let myself afford anything, anyway. But when I went on the website, I saw some less common luxe brands that had me thinking, what if I splurged, just this once?
My top priority was Saint Laurent. I'd been telling myself that if I ever would own anything designer, a YSL bag would be it for me. So I was excited to look around and see if I would find something within my budget, especially with the significant discounts.
The Saint Laurent outlet was a bit of a walk from the entrance we used, requiring crossing a bridge that went over a forest and had another unbelievable view of Mt. Fuji. I was determined to look for a monogram crossbody that didn't have a chain strap, and I was immediately drawn to a gorgeous moss green satchel. I've been obsessed with deep green in bag form, so it should've been perfect. But the satchel on display was the last one in stock and it was just too damaged to justify buying. I guess I'll be seeing it in my dreams.
I looked around a little more, and eventually found a black double handle bag that also checked off my boxes. And this one was less expensive and had new stock! The walk back across the bridge felt extra giddy with the tall black shopping bag in hand.
I'm so in love. I kept admiring it while having my dinner of carbonara from the Family Mart in the hotel. (Literally inside the hotel, just off the ground floor elevators! Would've been so useful to know the night before when I'd gotten hungry at 10 p.m. from having such an early dinner.)
My attitude when it comes to the more pricey bags I have is that of a mother to a newborn—always careful and precious with them to a fault, and it gets to a point where I end up not using them as often as I should for fear of damaging them and because there's so much work to my OCD-heavy ritual of taking them out of storage and putting them back. But with this bag, it's like there's a switch that flipped in my head that's made me more open to just using it in my day-to-day life. I'm still afraid to death of making it anything beyond pristine, but I'm more normal about it. And it's had a domino effect, I think, because now I'm starting to think this way about my other bags, too.
I did read something somewhere that went a little like: What's the point of collecting beautiful things if you're not using them? Loving the objects that make you happy means enjoying them to the fullest, so I'm going to do that.
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