Night bus to Kobe

[Another in the series of blog posts written but not posted. this one from Jan. 30]

Night train to Kobe

It sounded like a great idea:  save a night's lodging and sleep on the bus.  Have the whole day in Tokyo and then arrive in Kobe in time for my field trip to Kyoto.  What could possibly go wrong?

Kaji booked the ticket for me on a bus that I knew several Semester at Sea folks were taking.  He printed out 6 pages of information for me:  the ticket confirmation, detailed instructions on how to get to the terminal, and instructions on arrival.  I could use a locker in the subway station to stow my pack while I enjoyed the last day in Tokyo.  Yoshiko and Kaji went through the instructions (with pictures!) with me and plotted out my day, dividing activities into "must see" and "optional."  I was off!

My first stop was Shinjuku, about 40 miutes from Umejima, my home station.  I confidently bought a ticket for Kita-Senju, where I would buy my day pass for the JR Jyoban line.  I'm getting good at this!

First problem, I can't figure out how to buy the pass.  The JR line is the main train line, so the ticket machines can sell you a ticket to anywhere in Japan, as well as to the stations in Tokyo.  Unlike the DC Metro, the system I use most often at home, you don't just buy a $5 pass and use it till it's gone.  You figure your fare to the station you are going to and buy that amount.  This causes problems when you think the fare is going to be one thing and that number is not available.  On my way from Yokohama, the lady helping me told me to buy a 760 ticket, but the closest I could find was 740.  The station I wanted wasn't listed.  So I bought a ticket to a station I could find, exited the train there, and got back on with a new ticket.  On the JR line, I couldn't see an option to buy a day pass, so I went to the information desk.

I have not had good luck with Information in Japan.  It seems to me that if you have a big sign in English that says "Information" there is some presumption that SOMEBODY will in fact speak a word of English.  If you are only providing information to Japanese speakers, why not make the sign in Japanese?  I have yet to find an information desk staffed by someone who speaks English.

(Of course there are lots of odd English signs in Japan.  Today I saw a store called "Apogee."  Even among English speakers, who knows what an apogee is?)

My pack is heavy, so I was glad to stuff it into a locker.  I found one with no trouble at all.  I took careful note of my surroundings, even took pictures, so that I could find it again.  I decided to do a trial run to the bus station, so I was sure of the route when I came back.

I studied the printout that Kaji gave me.  The pictures were small, but they didn't look like what I was seeing.  The station has many levels, and I figured I was on the wrong one.  The instructions said to head for the Tokyo Metropolitan Building, so I followed those signs.  I was looking for the Shinjuku building, and I soon found it.  But when I went up to street level, it wasn't the right building.  Consulting the instructions again, I realized I should be looking for the Shinjuku Sumitomo building.  It's Shinjuku station.  Everything is named Shinjuku.

Now the fun began.  I walked back to the station to try again.  I couldn't find a way back down to the level I had been on.  Where were my zebras?  Would I ever see my pack again?  More maps, more pointing and gesturing to people who wanted to help but couldn't speak English.  Anxiety building! 

Shinjuku is a huge station, with lots and lots of train lines and lots and lots of exits.  It has several large department stores and probably hundreds of small ones.  Think of a giant American shopping mall, but one where your way is impeded by gates placed randomly.  Without a train ticket, you cannot pass the gates.  Without the right train ticket, you cannot pass.  Although I had noted the department store my lockers were near, that store is several levels high, with many exits to the station.

It took about half an hour to find my locker again.  I had to go through the gates as if I were getting on the train, then come out on the other side.  Finally, something I recognized.  Now I knew I could find my pack again, and I was pretty sure the building I was looking for was just down the street a little further.  I was ready to head back out for some shopping.

After two days of rush hour, I heeded Yashiko's warning and got back to the station early.  Really early.  I was there by five o'clock, and my bus didn't leave until after nine.  I decided to strike out with my pack, figuring I would find something along the way.  I hadn't yet been anywhere in Japan that there weren't shops and restaurants.

I just wanted to find a place to sit down for a bit.  When you travel, you realize that there are not a lot of places to sit down.  You can buy food anywhere, but finding a place to eat it can be difficult.  Just finding a place to quietly look at a map without giving the message, "Rich American tourist, come rob me!" is difficult.  I had eaten on the train, which is okay, but finding a trashcan is nearly impossible. 

(I later found out that after terrorists placed bombs in trashcans, the decision was made to remove them from the streets.  So you find recycling cans by every vending machine, but it is rare to find a trash can anywhere.  Since the bathrooms don't have paper towels, they also don't need trashcans.)

After a couple more wrong turns, I found the building with the bus terminal.  The instructions say to go up the escalator and await further directions.  A smiling employee wearing a bus company uniform was waiting and waved me up the escalator.  Another stood at the top to wave me into the waiting area.  Three more employees were in the lobby, and two more at the travel convenience store inside the lobby.  There was one other customer. (So:  three employees per customer.  Four if you count the two outside.)

Japan is full of guards and gatekeepers and just generally people whose job it is to wave you towards your destination.   Every building with a driveway has a uniformed greeter, every construction area has a couple of people to keep traffic flowing.  Every shrine or temple has people posted everywhere to gently direct you away from places that are off limits.  Unlike museum guards in the States, these people always make eye contact and gesture with the open palm wave.

Which, of course, does not mean they speak English. 

I am not a person who believes that foreigners should speak English.  I am humbled by the number of people who speak my language, when I speak nothing of theirs.  I am grateful for the people  who try so hard to help me when they are not comfortable speaking English.  But I confess to being surprised that a company that takes such pains to market to English-speaking customers has no English-speaking employees.

I got to the bus station early enough I thought there might be an earlier bus I could take to Kobe.  Much pointing to watches, saying "Kobe," nodding about the time the bus was due, looking questioningly .  No luck.  No bus except mine.  Okay, then can I stow my pack?  More pointing and charades.  Yes, over there.  "Over there" was not promising.  It was a corner that had four computers, all of which said "out of order" and a sign promising internet.  No one to give the bag to, no place to stow it.  Who knows what the guy was thinking, but it wasn't "baggage check." 

I tried the internet.  One open site promising free internet for a day to anyone with a credit card outside of Japan.  Something about the site made me decide that being on internet was not worth the possibility of credit card fraud. 

I found a plug near the seats, so I plugged in my computer and started writing a blog post, figuring I could add pictures and upload later.  The room was very empty, but announcements kept coming.  Two TC monitors showed schedules, but no words in English to let me know where the buses were going.    People in uniforms moved about officiously.  I tried for English with a couple of other people.  No luck.

I found an information booklet with schedules.  No English.  Found a brochure about the building in English.  It was like greeting a long lost friend!  Restaurants in the building.  Bars.  Come and relax!  An observation deck on the 51^st floor open until 10 PM.  I decided to shoulder my pack and go.  As soon as I got out of the waiting area, an employee came up to direct me downstairs to the bathroom.  No, upstairs, I gestured.  "Restaurant?"  No restaurant.  Observation deck.  No restaurant, no toilet?  I was clearly out of bounds and beyond the limits of his English.  I gestured up.  I gestured see.  I pointed to the sky.  He let me go.

What kind of scum do the building owners think the bus company caters to?  Everyone I could see looked pretty normal, everyone was very quiet.  Occasionally a bunch of them would get up and go, presumably to a bus.  I heard "Kobe Express" about an hour before my bus was due to leave, which tells me there WAS an earlier bus.  Whether I could have changed my reservation or not, I don't know.  By this point, I was just hoping that I hadn't missed the only bus.

The instructions said to come at 8:45 for a 9:10 bus.  We will not call your name, for privacy reasons.  Don't miss the bus.

I expected to see some SAS people, since I'd heard the overnight bus was so popular one of the nights had already sold out.  No Western faces, no English spoken here.  Fine, I have a reservation, I've checked in.  I've said, "Kobe Bus" a million times.  The guy wrote my time down on a slip of paper, which I'm treating as a boarding pass.  And I know, despite all this, that if something goes wrong, there is no one in the building who speaks English to hear my complaint.

Finally, the smiling, nodding man puts on a vest and says, "Kobe bus" and I gather my things to follow him.  It takes maybe 15 seconds.  He has completely disappeared.  I look for the nearest employee.  There are more employees than passengers.  "Kobe bus?"  I say.  He directs me downstairs.  I see no buses.  He walks into a convenience store.  Is this like "exit through the gift shop"?  You have to go through the convenience store to get to the bus?  No doors in sight to the outside.  The guy starts talking to the clerk. He picks up merchandise.  What does he think, that my name is Kobe Bus?

I'm starting to get anxious. I switch to a first name basis.  Kobe?  Kobe?  I gesture driving.  I point to my watch.  Where is the bus?  I look around.  I point.  The employee confers with the convenience store employee.  They finally get that I am in the wrong place, on the wrong floor, and about to miss my bus after three hours in the terminal waiting for it. 

He leads me, casually, up the escalator.  The bus leader guy has reappeared.  He leads me out to the bus as if I am the Number 1 Honorable Passenger.  There are four more guys on the way to the bus.  Each of them is grandly gesturing to the bus, which is clearly in evidence, the only bus in the parking lot.  All of them have donned coats, which are of some material that shines brightly.  It is like a parade of fireflies in white coat and tails.  The bus driver checks my name, the only one in Roman letters on the manifest.  He tells me my assigned seat.  Then he checks to make sure I am in it.  6D.  We each repeat 6-D.  The easy things said over and over, the complicated things never explained at all. 

The bus is not crowded, and I am lucky enough to have a seat to myself.  It leaves at 9 :15 and by 9:30 all the lights are out.  There is a long recorded announcement in Japanese, which I'm pretty sure starts with the invention of the wheel.  It is followed by one in English which tells me I am required to wear my seat belt, and that the bus will stop three times, the second time at the Shinko Ferry Terminal.  It will stop for three breaks, but the Kobe passengers will only get two breaks.  The breaks will be announced.  The driver will tell us how long the break is.  The breaks might be moved or shortened or canceled depending on the traffic and the whether.  We should refer to the bus etiquette card in our seat backs. 

The bus etiquette card says not to move your seatback without telling the person in back of you.  It says not to email after lights out.  By the time I finish reading it, the lights are out.  The bus has blackout curtains.  It is 9:30 and we have an 8-hour ride. 

I am a bus criminal.  My screen is turned down as low as it can go, and I'm shielding it from view using the hood over my head and the blanket.  I figure no one's going to complain in any language I can understand.

It takes me a while to figure out that the bus is actually not going to Kobe.  It is going to the Shinko Ferry Terminal, which is the ferry terminal in Kobe.  But none of the announcements say "Kobe," adding anxiety. 

We finally arrive at the terminal, and I am the only one getting off.  It is 4:30 AM, completely dark.  I see trucks, but no water, no ships.  Without water, I cannot orient myself to the map I am holding.  More pointing, more sorrowful shaking of heads.  The ferry terminal night employee is undone that he cannot help me.  He consults an English cheat sheet, which is of no help to him. We smile and bow to each other.

I show my postcard of the ship.  I point to the map.  I hold the map and turn myself in all four directions.  Which way does the map go? How do I get out of here? I cannot fathom that I am asking difficult questions.  I think my question is so simple the employee cannot see why I am asking it. 

The answer turns out to be right, left, left, right, right, over the highway, right, left.  That wasn't so hard, was it?