The Penpal, TD, and I were happy to be off the plane and on the ground at Tokyo Haneda airport. Our next goals were to get through immigration and customs, get luggage delivery, and travel to The Penpal’s parents’ house in Numazu.
Unlike Canada, Japan is not an immigration friendly country. They do not allow dual citizenship, although they allow children of Japanese / non-Japanese parents to carry two passports until they reach their 20th birthday. We still haven’t gotten TD his Japanese passport, so he was traveling on his Canadian one.
When arriving in Japan, there are two immigration lines – one for Japanese passport holders and one for foreign passports. The Penpal took off to the short, quick Japanese passport line while I dragged TD through the gaijin line wearing my backpack with the heavy car seat slung over my shoulder.
Nobody likes waiting in lines, especially an overtired 3 year old who has just been sitting for almost 12 hours. He did his best to try to escape my grip while I held on and attempted to navigate the queue. I used to make fun of parents who took their kids out in public on a leash – I would have paid cash money for one while in line.
After what seemed like 3 hours (but was probably only 15 minutes), we met up with The Penpal at the luggage carousel. We took our bags through customs and got directions to the luggage delivery counter.
Luggage delivery is amazing. Japanese trains are fast and convenient, but they aren’t built for passengers with large suitcases. After changing out of my dorky shorts into a clean pair of jeans, we arranged for our two large suitcases to be delivered to The Penpal’s parents’ house the next morning. This cost just under 4000 yen (about $40) for both bags, which is a great deal.
Free of our biggest bags, we took the kid, car seat, stroller, and 3 backpacks onto Keikyu line bound for Shinagawa. I asked TD what he thought of his first ever train ride. “It’s like a bus” he answered, totally underwhelmed.
At Shinagawa, The Penpal bought tickets on the Shinkansen (bullet train) to Mishima. Since we were now in the Friday evening rush hour, we booked reserved seats to ensure we could all sit together. There were three problems with our seats:
- We were on a train leaving in less than 10 minutes
- Our seats were in car 16 at the very end of the train
- Car 16 is a smoking car. Yes, you can still smoke cigarettes in some select cars on the Shinkansen.
We hauled collective asses to the platform and got there just as the train was arriving. With no time to walk to the end of the platform, we boarded in car 8 and started our long walk to the end of the train. I was carrying the car seat in front of me, doing my best not to smash elbows or mow down people who were standing. The Penpal was carrying TD, doing her best not to hit his head on the doorways while we walked along the moving train. Fortunately it only happened once.
If anyone ever tells you that it’s a good idea to bring your car seat with you on a plane, chances are good that they don’t like you. I’m sure its great for shorter flights, but carrying it around airports is awful. Your so called friends are likely sitting around somewhere laughing at you.
It was a great relief to finally arrive at Mishima station and be greeted by The Penpal’s father, who was happy to see his grandson in person for the first time. He took us to his house where TD got to meet his Japanese grandmother for the first time. After that we took care of the essentials; hugs, food, and connecting all of our devices to the wifi network. It was good to be back in our Japanese home.