Dearest Rachel –
It’s morning in Tokyo Bay, and we’re suddenly only one of dozens of ships within sight of each other. You’d think we were in a race to get to the port or something.
There’s a certain point in every trip where are you mentally begin preparing yourself to leave and return home. This has actually been a little more difficult than on most trips; with a stop every day, and the attendant running around involved in it, you don’t get a whole lot of time to pause and realize, “oh yeah, tomorrow or the day after, we have to put everything back and get out of here.” In a way, that seems quite fitting for a trip that begins and ends in Tokyo; there are very few places in the world that epitomize the hustle and bustle of urban life – and out of modern life, in general – than this particular city. Pausing to reflect on where one’s been, where one is, and where one’s going is just not feasible in the midst of it all here.
Maybe that’s why there are so many shrines throughout the rest of the country; to make up for that lack. This gives the typical Tokyoite – one out of nine Japanese – the option to visit and contemplate these things, should they so choose. Of course, it’s quite likely that said city dwellers has neither the time, nor the money to afford such a luxury.
And that kind of brings me around to this particular trip. I’ve tried to avoid mentioning the name of this cruise line, because I’m quite ambivalent about it, and it’s not really their fault. I don’t want to criticize it for being several times more expensive on a daily basis than any other cruise I’ve been on. I’m guessing that it’s only able to visit the many relatively obscure places we’ve been to because it’s so small; but because it’s so small, it needs to charge more per person in order to be profitable as a business model. And to justify these prices, they offer a certain level of service and intimacy that appeals to a certain clientele. Indeed, they actually refer to themselves as [company name] Club aboard ship.
The thing is, I don’t consider myself a member of the club, and I’m not really keen on being a member of the club. I’m not here for the close-quarters entertainment, and I confess to not even being all that comfortable with the almost overly solicitous waitstaff. I’m just as happy to get my own meal, at my own pace, in my own time. When I’m in a hotel room for a length of time, I practically hang the ‘do not disturb’ sign on my door for the entirety of my stay, so as to not over, burden the housekeeping staff. You know this; you and I went to enough anime conventions (among other trips) over the course of our marriage that you could verify everything I’m saying. In fact, you were every bit as much (if not more so) like this than I am. So you know what I’m talking about.
But by being like that, and doing what we do, I can’t say that we get our money’s worth out of the service we’re offered. It’s actually even a little less comfortable in that respect than on a more conventional – and perhaps déclassé – line than this. That’s just who, and how, we are, and I don’t want to blame the cruise line for any of this. It’s one of those cases where you have to say, “it’s not you, it’s me.”
I say this, because, at some point, someone is going to ask us (either from the company itself as a means of self-evaluation, or when we get back by our people at home) whether we thought we got value for money, or if we would recommend it to anyone else, or what have you. And I really don’t know what to say. If this is the only way to go to and see all of the places we did, then absolutely, I would recommend this to anyone who could afford it in a heartbeat. Despite being the ultimate “stranger in a strange land,” I don’t know if there’s any other country (you know, aside from home) I’d rather be in than Japan. But if there were a more conventional, more economical, more… I don’t know what… way to do so, I might suggest searching around.
There is a media trope that describes my attitude towards this trip pretty well. Appropriately enough, given where it begins and ends, it’s called “I’m just here for Godzilla.” Essentially, with most good stories, there are many layers to them, but certain audiences follow a piece of media with one specific thing in mind. It may be the car chase scene (indeed, this very attitude is where the phrase ‘cut to the chase’ originates from), or the explosions; it may be the fanservice; it may be for a certain actor or actress. And although it may frustrate the author or creator, that’s just how certain audiences – or members of the audience – are like.
So it is with Daniel and I. We’re not really here for the service, or even for the food, and definitely not for the entertainment. We’re here for the individual destinations, and we really enjoyed them, I want to make that absolutely clear. We’ve seen so many things that I never got a chance to when I was here last time; and Daniel’s certainly gotten a much more in-depth look at Japan than we had in our respective youth (although in fairness, he learned a lot more about it than either of us had before setting out, too, so he was also much better prepared). We got what we came here for, and then some, and I wouldn’t have missed this for anything. And with that having been said, I need to express my gratitude to Lars for making sure we could get started on this trip in the first place; to think, we were on the verge of resigning ourselves to not going, and being fine with that.
But did we get our moneys worth? I guess that kind of depends on what money is worth. I’m not used to spending so much on a trip, and while I will be doing so next year as well, this has that trip well beat in terms of the price per day. Meanwhile, thanks to your parents and how they brought you up, you would’ve probably balked at this, too. But if either of us had, we would not have seen the places we did. And maybe that’s all that matters.
As with so many of my letters, this one doesn’t really have a straightforward conclusion. I don’t even know what to think, any more than when I started this. but now you know a little bit more about how I feel, from either perspective.
We still have one more day on ship – we even have one more shore excursion, while we’re in Tokyo – before we head out tomorrow morning and fly back. I will keep you posted with how things go, as always. For now, keep an eye on us, and wish us luck. We’re going to need it.
Letters to Rachel 