Tag 1 – Thank you, Lufthansa

Frankfurt to Tokyo.

Miles redeemed. First Class. Once-in-a-Lifetime experience.

A Lufthansa employee rushes to the car as I arrive at the parking lot.

He says I should make myself comfortable in the lounge – he’ll take care of the rest.

Done and done.

In front of the lounge, I walk through the First-Class Duty-Free and stop at a skincare cream.

Price: 1,299 euros.

I briefly wonder if it only cares for the face – or if it replaces it entirely.

I smile. And notice how my self-esteem quietly sneaks back into the lounge.

First, two glasses of champagne.

Because I can – and because it’s free.

Then: a private escort in a luxury SUV to the airplane.

The captain greets me with a handshake.

Probably the last time I will appear composed today.

Onboard:

More champagne.

Later wine with the meal.

The seat more comfortable than my bed at home.

I eventually fall asleep.

Later, I am gently awakened.

The stewardess politely asks if I would like to return the seat to an upright position.

Sure, I do.

I briefly go to the bathroom – almost bigger than my own at home.

In the mirror, I then see:

I have been lying on my sleep mask for half the night.

On my face: an artfully pressed mask pattern.

I try to rub it off.

Doesn't work.

I splash my face with cool water.

I search all the drawers –

maybe there’s a cream for removing sleep mask prints?

No.

Only Evian facial mist.

I spray myself –

because it sounds somehow luxurious.

It helps not at all.

So back to the seat.

With my gaze lowered.

Entry with prints.

Welcome to Tokyo.

At the airport, a lady is waiting for me,

who accompanies me through immigration.

I’m polite, grateful –

and apparently still mentally in Thailand.

I fold my hands, bow deeply, and say:

“Thank you.”

She smiles politely –

but in her eyes it says:

“Why is the tourist praying to me?”

Three steps later, I realize the mistake.

I lower my head a little further.

Taxi to the hotel – then the letdown:

My asthma spray is gone.

I suspect it’s still on the airplane.

So: call Lufthansa.

They say:

“Please call the airport directly.”

The airport says:

“We are only responsible for things lost at the airport. For items on the plane – call Lufthansa.”

Somehow we’re going in circles here.

So I go back myself.

By train, because: taxi was already super expensive.

Two transfers.

I’m tired, overwhelmed, with a slight champagne hangover –

but eventually I find myself back where I landed.

Haneda Airport.

The spray? Found.

Me? Emotionally exhausted, but functional.

Back by train to Shinjuku.

A quick detour to the 3D cat and Godzilla.

A little lost in Kabukichō and in Don Quijote.

But finally into the hotel.

First night in Tokyo.

First day full of impressions.

And the quiet realization:

This was just the beginning.