Seattle to Narita, Japan

Notes when traveling to Japan:

The flight is 10 hours long.

There is no comfortable seat. There are only comparable degrees. First class is better than Business class, which is better than coach. Even the free socks the airline gives you are thicker and more luxurious in first class. So you know, in biz class you get a little bag with tooth paste, a toothbrush, (see "bacteria in the water", below) socks, an eye cover for sleeping, a mint, tissues and hand lotion.

Upon boarding your flight from home to Japan, you will be excited to learn that six movies are offered. Sadly, the same movies are played over and over for 10 hours and if you have already seen one or more of these movies, you will never want to again. For example, I never want to see "The DaVinci Code" ever, ever again.

Airplane air is dry, dry, dry. Your sinuses will be killing you by the time you reach your destination. I ended up muffling my breath in my sweater to provide some moisture for my poor throat. I did this for seven hours.

Airline toilets are horror if you’re a germ-a-phobe, or even if you don’t like the idea of standing on pee splatter while you squat. If you don’t want to hear details, skip this part.

So, first off, the whole, “push on the door” to get into the restroom baffles me for some reason. Push on half the door and it hinges in opening to a full door. The bathroom has enough room to turn around in. If you’re fat, you’re have to hold it for 10 hours, or don’t fly. I can’t imagine how two people would fit into the bathroom to join the infamous “mile high club”. The concept sounds good, probably because it involves sex, but the logistics of it seem complicated.

Ok, now really stop reading if you don’t want to hear about my toilet experience. Stop here. Stop reading!

Ok, so since I detest public restrooms to begin with, I was “holding it” for as long as I could on our extra-long flight. Finally, I jumped in front of a Japanese guy and dove into the resented, but much required restroom.

Noting the pee splatters on the floor and grimacing at the fact that I was wearing socks, I was suddenly having a Britney Spears moment.

There was no way I was going to sit on that seat and I didn’t want my feet touching the splatters. I squatted, Girl Scout style, and grasped the tiny handle used to signal that the room is occupied. Trying to multi-task, I grabbed for the T.P. with my other hand and lost my balance. Panic! Somehow, I was able to grab the tiny knob with my T.P.-hand and miraculously, the nasty toilet seat didn’t break my fall. That wasn’t so bad a story, was it?

Allow me to note that the only place I don’t wash my hands after using the restroom is on airplanes for fear of the billions of bacteria, e-coli, AIDS, bad hair mojo & salmonella in the water. Have you ever seen those news shows that go undercover on jets and test the food and water for germs? They have also found rodents living in the landing gear of 747’s.

When we landed in Narita, we had to go through security again. It was manned by 15 adorably-dressed Japanese women… not very intimidating as far as security goes, but very cute in their little matching outfits.

The flight from Narita to Singapore is seven hours, not three.

I heart business class.