I had a very bad time immediately after taking the above photo.
I was dragging my enormous roller-bag towards the subway station, and realized that I was in no mood to ka-bump, ka-bump, ka-bump, ka-bump it down 4 flights of stairs. Every station has an elevator, but they’re typically well hidden. So I located a beat cop and asked him how I could get to the Asakusa line.
There was a bit of comedic half-understood conversation. Where do you want to go? Asakusa station. But where are you going? Narita. Narita? Narita. To Narita? Yes, Narita. You want Narita, right? Yes.
At this point, the cop whipped out a collapsible pointers and smacked it against the map above his head. (Do they all carry those? I guess so.) A bit of pointing and gesturing and broken english convinced me that I wanted the ‘Express line to Narita’ and that I had to go to ‘Asakusa station’ which was half-way across the neighborhood.
Why did I listen? I knew exactly what subway line to take, which train to get on, etc. But he was so compelling with his uniform and map and pointer, and he kept saying Express! Express! and I though, I want express! Express is good! So, off I went, dragging my bag.
20 minutes and one backache later I located the Asukusa express station (as promised, totally different from Asakusa metro station, and servicing a different train line entirely). I stuck me head in the station and asked an attendant which train went to Narita.
Oh, she said, you want the Asukusa metro line. And she pulled out a map, and started giving me directions.
In retrospect, I know what happened: She was giving me directions back to exactly where I’d started. But, her map had a reverse orientation from the last map I’d looked at. (North is not necessarily up on Japanese maps, they try instead to orient them the way you’re facing, which works great if they’re attached to a plaque but not so well for fold-up paper maps of which this was one.)
So, that sent me another 20 minutes in the wrong direction… or would’ve except I finally figured out what was happening 15 minutes later, resolved never again ask directions in Tokyo, and made a beeline back to the station which I had intended to use in the first place — and took the damn stairs. Kabump, kabump, kabump.
The upshot of all this is that I arrived at Narita airport at 5:10 for an international flight that departed at 5:45. Many thanks are owed to the staff of Narita airport whose heroic efforts got me on the plane anyway — with a row to myself, no less.