Doing The Tour

Hicksville, Hokkaido

Currently I'm sitting in a packed, dingy 70s-era  airport lounge surrounded by screaming kids and dumb Japanese tourists. It's about 12:15 p.m. on Thursday afternoon; I'm, like, in what Bakersfield Internat'l Airport: Gateway to the San Joaquin Valley would look like if Bakersfield had an international airport.

Who knew Sapporo would be this primitive? When one is forced to refer to the people around one as "Japanese hillbillies" you know you're not at the greatest point in your Japan Saga.

I'm on my waaaaaayyyyy . . . . to the 1.5 people who are still reading reading this, Hello From Hicksville, Nippon! If on my next flight I plummet in a fireball to the ground at least I'll die knowing I've finally seen it all.