I’m at Tokyo-Narita now. My flight for Ho Chi Minh boards in about 80 minutes.

I forgot that today was Presidents’ Day, so I got off a late start, since the BART was running on its holiday schedule. But I still made it to SFO by 9:15am, with a 10:50 flight out. And amazingly, there was no one at the All Nippon Airline counter. I mean no one. I walked right up and handed over my passport.

When the nice woman at the counter disappeared for a few minutes to check something with my Vietnam visa, I didn’t think much of it. But then she came back with a managerial-looking man, who asked me if I realized that my visa was due to expire seven days before my flight out of Vietnam. He informed me in the politest way possible that they would definately turn me away at customs in Vietnam, and I would have to return on the next available flight. I was dumbfounded. After all, when I filled out my application for the visa, I clearly stated my travel dates. I guess I’m learning a lot about Vietnam before I’ve even set foot there.

The people at ANA were extremely helpful, and booked me an earlier flight out of Vietnam, explaining that once I’d cleared customs and extended my visa, I could cancel the new flight and go back to my original booking. With any luck, this will be the only hitch associated with getting into Vietnam.

The flight itself wasn’t bad at all, once I discovered the secret of the hidden screen controller…

Once I discovered this device, I was able to enjoy on-demand movies and games. The 10-hour flight felt more like a flight back to Chicago. And there was plenty of food.

That first meal was served shortly after take-off. It was stir-fried pork in ginger sauce with rice, and noodles with “noodle sauce” which my neighbor slurped merrily. Desert was an individual-sized Hagen Daz (not shown). The second meal was served about eight hours into the flight, shortly after the stewardess came through announcing “Ohayou gozaimasu” (Good morning). Oddly, it consisted of rice mixed with bits of squid, clams, and fake crab-stuff, all covered in what tasted something like cheddar-cheese sauce. (Yes, mom…I ate it. OK, only half of it.) I did finish the strawberry yogurt though.

Here’s a better shot of the squidy-rice, just to make my Mom uneasy:

We also flew over that long, dangly bit that sticks out from Alaska.

Finally we began our descent into Narita, and I was a bit dissapointed to see what could easily have been any Midwestern suburb (but with a lot more golf courses).

The airport is similarly generic. But at least I’ve had a chance to use my scant Japanese here.

Somehow this morning, on the day I’m traveling for 24 straight hours, I forgot to use deodorant. I was horrified when I realized this. I have nightmares about being stinky in Asia. I’ve learned that Purell does not make an effective deodorant, although opening the container at 34,000 feet does result in a fun mess. So I found some Ban Roll-on in a little shop here in the airport, and I changed $100 into  ¥100,500 and set off to buy the ¥600 Ban. I was given one ¥100,000 bill. In the US, I would feel pretty awful about giving the clerk a $100 bill for a $6 purchase. So I approached the clerk, holding the box of Ban aloft in one hand, and the bill in the other and asked “iidesuka?” (Is it OK?).

It was OK. And now, no matter what happens at Vietnam customs in eight hours, I don’t have to worry about being stinky.