Hospitality Needs No Translation

I found this so touching that I needed to pass it along...

Hospitality Needs No Translation
Tokyo, Japan
Posted by Chris Nicholson
Passenger Programs Specialist
June 28, 2011


Before me stood a house that I can only describe as coming straight off of an antique porcelain plate. With peaked roofs and gabled eaves, the house was a charming relic of a bygone era.

Hospitality Needs No Translation Chris, Mr. & Mrs. Kurihari, and comedian Larry Larkin pose for a picture together.

When most visitors travel to Japan, they think of the quiet serenity of the countryside, where an emphasis is placed on nature and religious sites, or the brash, kinetic lure of non-stop action along Tokyo’s dazzling shopping districts.

My first visit took a path not usually taken. I was invited into the home of a Japanese couple I met during a cruise aboard the original Star Princess.

I knew it was an honor to be invited into someone’s home while traveling, perhaps never more so than in Japan. So when this couple extended an invitation, I was pleasantly surprised.

That’s how I ended up a year later in my hosts’ Tokyo house, reminding myself to feel honored, as I forced down my first-ever plates of sushi. We eat our fish fried and with chips in Liverpool. But I didn’t want to offend. I’d wash down each bite of sushi with sake only to find my plate and cup immediately refilled.

What came next was even more disorienting. I was taken by limo to a community center and whisked through the lobby to a small auditorium. My hosts directed me to get on the stage and sing the “Love Boat” theme song.

There I stood, alone. No band, no back-up singers, an audience of five expectantly watching me, waiting.

“Love, exciting and new. Come aboard. We’re expecting you.”

Mrs. Kurihrari and Chris on the second formal night aboard the original Star Princess in 1990.

An already surreal situation took on a sense of déjà vu. Three years earlier, I stood in a rehearsal hall in Liverpool auditioning for a job as a vocalist for Princess Cruises. “Love. Exciting and new,” I sang, not realizing that “The Love Boat” was Princess’ theme song. What else should I have sung? I’d even brought along my own back-up dancers and dressed them in feathers and bikinis.

I got the job as a vocalist for Princess; later I was privileged to be Cruise Director and the world outside of my home town opened up. “The Love Boat” theme song even became part of my nightly repertoire. I’d sung it per usual one night on Star Princess during a run to Alaska. The next night, I was mixing and mingling with guests during a cocktail party when a very elegant Japanese couple approached me.

They were dressed in traditional kimonos and asked if they could take a photograph with me as they’d recognized me from the show. The couple asked for my address, and promised to send me a copy of the photo. Although we’d exchanged no more than two dozen words, they said I must contact them if I ever went to Japan.

A few months later, I received a copy of the photograph along with a beautiful sea-green silk tie with little flecks of blue. I couldn’t believe they’d remembered me. A year later, when Tokyo was on the itinerary, I thought I’d have a real Japanese experience with this family rather than go shopping with colleagues. I exchanged letters with the couple and they offered to pick me up at the terminal.

Mt. Fuji.

The approach to Tokyo is beyond beautiful. I woke up early and saw Mount Fuji covered in snow. As we pulled along the dock, the thundering sound of a troupe of traditionally dressed Taiko drummers greeted our arrival. I was pumped up for my tour of Tokyo.

I had researched the city and was wondering where my hosts would take me. Would I see the Harajuku district, made famous by trendy, Tokyo teenagers? Steps from the Harajuku train station, we could go to Meiji Jingu, a shrine devoted to a former emperor and empress. There’s a 400-year-old well there that is said to be a spiritual power spot. Also close by is Yoyogi Park, a forest within the crowded city.

Maybe my hosts would take me to Roppongi, a glitzy international area known for great nightlife. Perhaps we’d go to the famous Tsukiji Fish Market, one of the world’s largest with stall after stall of vendors. Or maybe I’d buy a clever gadget in the Ginza, an area world famous for electronic wizardry.

The Kurihari's Daughter & Son in Law at the pier to pick me up from the Pacific Princess, Tokyo 1992

Before I disembarked, the ship’s Deputy Captain came up to me and said, “Chris, there are people with a banner that says, ‘Welcome to Japan, Chris Nichol.’” (I used Nichol as my stage name.) That was my first hint that this tour would be a little different than expected. The ship’s social hostess said, “Chris, don’t you have a gift for them? It’s a tradition.” Of course, the ship’s boutique was closed and I had to scramble to put together a bag of key chains and pens bearing the “It’s more than a cruise, it’s the Love Boat” slogan.

The couple had brought along their daughter and son-in-law. I invited them on board for a tour and as we were leaving, Larry Larkin, an English comedian performing on the cruise, asked if he could join us. The couple, who spoke very little English, indicated their agreement.

We assumed we’d get on the Tokyo Metro with them, but a different transport — a huge, black, chauffeur-driven limousine — pulled up. As we glided through Tokyo there wasn’t a lot of conversation going on. They kept pointing at buildings, saying, “Apartments…. Apartments.” I was thinking to myself, “Buildings…what’s so special about them?” During the drive, the son-in-law pulled out a tiny cell phone, which was fascinating to see. After all, it was 1992 and most cell phones were as big as bricks.

The Shinjuku ward contains Tokyo’s skyscraper district (Nishi-Shinjuku), Shinjuku Station (the busiest train station in the world), luxury hotels, shopping centers, nightclubs and apartments, as my hosts continually reminded me. Much of it was constructed during the 1970s, and buildings shimmered with enough neon to rival Times Square.

Mrs. Kurihari in her garden wearing her kimono.

We drove up a quiet little side street and the limo deposited us by a brick wall. Ducking through a little door, I was surprised to enter a serene, landscaped garden with huge willow trees and a pond stocked with lily pads and bright orange koi. We’d just been surrounded by skyscrapers seconds earlier! Before me stood a house that I can only describe as coming straight off of an antique porcelain plate. With peaked roofs and gabled eaves, the house was a charming relic of a bygone era.

It had been built by my host’s grandfather, he told me. He ushered us into this delightful house, with traditional tatami mats, dividing screens and amber-hued woods. We exchanged our shoes for slippers, as is customary, and sat down for a sushi banquet. This is where Larry stepped up his act. Knowing I had a novice’s fear of eating raw fish, he kept passing me sushi with his chopsticks. (It turns out serving others with chopsticks is a no-no. Present the plate for others to choose from instead.)

After downing sushi–which I can only imagine must have been of the absolute best quality–with cup after cup of sake, I was then led to the community hall for my command performance of “The Love Boat.” As funny as it felt for me to sing there, my Japanese friends seemed to enjoy the performance and Larry looked highly amused.

My performance was followed by the host’s wife, who performed a graceful, traditional Japanese dance. It was beautiful and I was truly touched by her presentation.

We went back to the hidden house. I got lost while going to the bathroom and entered a room filled with hundreds and hundreds of mounted keys. Then it occurred to me. All those “apartments, apartments” were theirs. They owned tracts of valuable real estate in this most expensive of cities.

I had been befriended by Tokyo’s refined version of the Trump family.

Mrs. Kurihari and Chris sitting on the step of the Kurihari's tea house.

As we said our good-byes, my friends presented me with a delicate tea set. We promised to keep in touch and we did exchange postcards for a while. A few years later, I was saddened to hear about the father’s death, soon followed by his wife’s. They were gracious, lovely people.

The last letter I received from the daughter invited me and my mother to stay at the penthouse suite at one of their hotels (it turned out they owned some of those, too) the next time I was in Tokyo. That was more than 15 years ago, and sadly, I haven’t been back since.

I’m sure I’ll return one day to see the sights of that remarkable city—where ultra-modern glitter seamlessly melds with the quiet traditional. But I cannot imagine it will feel the same without the impeccable and considerate attention provided by my Japanese friends. What I would not give to have the chance to sing that song again in that little community hall.

World's Largest, Deepest, Darkest Motel Room

Formed over the course of 65 million years, sunken two-hundred feet below the earth's surface, discover the Grand Cavern Suite, the world's largest, deepest, darkest motel room. Grand Canyon Caverns & Inn invites guests to find themselves where they could never be found. As the largest dry cavern in the US, the suite is entirely devoid of any light or sound. The quiet air, free of moisture and impurities, begs to be breathed, and engages all the senses. The oxygen in the caverns is distilled as it stretches miles through limestone crevices beginning at the Grand Canyon. Since natural light is absent the suite comes equipped with electric lamps, along with a record player, and a library, including books and magazines dated back to the1800's. Necessities including bathroom, and table with chairs are also provided in this suite. Above ground find the full service inn and its friendly full service staff. For additional information, please visit Grand Canyon Caverns & Inn.

Sharon Oberritter
Premier Aussie Specialist

Handa Opera on Sydney Harbour

Experience one of the world's best-loved operas on one of the most breathtaking stages in the world: Sydney Harbour


Opera Australia is delighted to present Handa Opera on Sydney Harbour – La Traviata for an exclusive three-week season from 24 March to 15 April 2012.

Verdi's La Traviata is presented under the stars at Mrs Macquarie's Point next to the Royal Botanic Garden for the first time. This huge production features spectacular sets, beautiful costumes, dazzling lighting and effects, fireworks and a 9-metre chandelier suspended above a purpose-built, shimmering stage on the waters of Sydney Harbour. The Sydney Opera House, Sydney Harbour Bridge and the city skyline will provide the magnificent backdrop.

A multi-award-winning team join some of Australia's best-loved artists to create an unforgettable evening of beautiful music and breathtaking spectacle.

Sharon Oberritter
Premier Aussie Specialist

Super Sardine Cans

Couldn't pass up posting this latest airline information for those planning on traveling in the future. Thought you had it bad now?

By Rob Lovitt, msnbc.com contributor

If you’ve been feeling cramped on some of your recent flights, hold on to your armrests.

Several airlines are currently considering aircraft that will hold 900 to 1,000 passengers, according to a report in Australian Business Traveller (ABT).

The "super sardine cans," as ABT dubs them, represent the latest variations on the Airbus A380. Already the world’s largest commercial airplane, the double-decker plane carries 525 people in a typical, three-class configuration.

But in the fractured world of air travel, individual airlines are ordering planes with different configurations to suit their specific needs. This week, Korean Air became the sixth carrier to take delivery of an A380, a surprisingly spacious model with just 407 seats. Amenities include an upper-deck-spanning business class and the world’s first onboard duty-free shop with actual products on display.

Compare that to the two A380s on order for French carrier Air Austral. Forgoing first- and business-class sections, the carrier plans to squeeze in 840 passengers in a cheek-by-jowl, all-economy configuration. They’re set to go into service on the carrier’s La Reunion–Paris route in 2014.

But even those winged whoppers are expected to lose their XXL status if Airbus starts producing its proposed A380-900. Featuring 650 seats in three classes and around 900 in an all-economy set-up, the plane has garnered interest from several airlines, including Emirates, Cathay Pacific and others.

Still not big enough for you? ABT goes on to say that Lufthansa and Air France "are already eyeing an enhanced 1,000-seat version that's also on the drawing board called — you guessed it — the A380-1000."

Sharon Oberritter
Premier Aussie Specialist

A Taste of a Kenya Walking Safari

I ran across this article and thought I'd share it with my readers. It was originally written by Janelle Cook

The Thrill of a Safari by Janelle Cook of Africa Answers.

As we trekked, enjoying our walking safari, we joked about how we had been advised to wear only beige and olive colored clothing so as not to alert the wildlife of our presence, while our Maasai guide wore brilliant crimson and red, and sparkling metallic jewelry. We'd be lucky to see a warthog with this much bling out in front.

The guide abruptly stopped and signaled the rest of us to do likewise. What? A lone buffalo had appeared over a ridge 50 feet away. Oh. No. For days we had heard that the most dangerous animal in Africa is not the lion, nor the crocodile, nor the rhino, but a lone buffalo. Nicknamed ‘Retired Generals' these buffalo have been forced from the herd by younger buffalo. Alone, they become insecure and aggressive, going on the attack without warning. Once in charge mode, there is no diversion, only a bullet can stop them. What to do? No tall trees to climb, no deep ditches to dive in. The guide raised his rifle while motioning us to retreat quietly. Gored by one of the Big Five in Kenya; what an epitaph. 60 feet…65 feet, we inched away, exchanging looks, our tension palpable.

Behind, a flock of birds flew out of a bush, startling us. We clamped hands over our mouths, suppressing shouts and nervous laughter. Busted. The General now knew we were there. He raised his nose and sniffed the wind. He peered toward us myopically. The stand-off seemed interminable. He became bigger, and bigger. Huh? He grew another head, then another, then another. Oh! Yes! He was not alone; his herd had been behind the ridge and now emerged behind him, one by beautiful one.

Were you afraid, we asked our guide, later. Yes, he said, very afraid; but not for you who wear the colors the buffalo cannot see. I was afraid I might not be a good enough shot when the General came for me.

Janelle Cook is a Product Contractor at Africa Answers, a division of Down Under Answers, and recently participated in a familiarization trip to Kenya.

A Taste of Tahiti, New Zealand and Australia

Photo album generated with Smilebox

Go Ahead, Buy Some Happiness

Found this great blog by Katherine Lonsdorf and thought it was interesting enough to pass along.

Anyone who tells you money can’t buy happiness is wrong. What they mean to say is possessions can’t buy you happiness. Money, on the other hand, can buy you plane tickets and visas and bottles of foreign wine to be uncorked while gazing out over a perfect beachside sunset. Money can take you out to dinner with friends, or buy an espresso at that tiny corner café in Italy, or tickets to the Berlin Philharmonic. Money buys boat rides and train rides and camel rides. The secret to happiness will never be that fast new Ferrari convertible you think you need. Happiness, instead, comes from experiences.

There have been numerous studies over the past few years about money and happiness, searching for a connection. Researchers have found that up to a certain amount, money actually can make one happier: Having enough money to buy daily essentials, pay bills, and otherwise live a satisfactory day-to-day existence is key to a person’s sense of well being. But after that, it’s been argued that buying material goods doesn’t actually make a person more content over an extended period of time. In fact, the initial happiness you seem to have after purchasing that new iPad or custom-made couch will probably wear off within two or three weeks, leaving you searching for the next retail high.

On the other hand, current studies suggest that spending extra money on experiences rather than goods—after you’ve purchased life’s essentials—will actually make a person happier throughout life. Experiences, since they tend to be social activities, build stronger relationships, which is one of the key essentials to happiness. They also aren’t easily comparable to any one else. You will most likely think your trip to Rome was the “best ever,” despite the millions of other people who have also taken trips to Rome, so there won’t be any buyer’s remorse after the fact.

Finally, people tend to reminisce on experiences like travel for years, reliving the adventure over and over, often forgetting any negative aspects of the trip altogether. That fight you had with your spouse? Gone. The bad sunburn you had after a day of hiking? Gone. All that’s left are rose-colored memories of a happy and exciting time, revisited much more often than that pair of boots you bought right around the same time.

For all these reasons, I’ve decided to start living my life with a new motto: Travel before shoes. As a not-so-wealthy waitress/bartender living in an overpriced apartment in Hollywood, my extra funds are limited, and my closet is still over capacity. It’s embarrassing. For someone who spends hours staring at world maps and reading travel guides while rarely purchasing plane tickets, the ease with which I’ll purchase $100 heels is concerning. It’s probably because that purchase is much less of a commitment, much less daunting and more doable than a roundtrip $1300 plane ticket to Mumbai, complete with hostel stays, living expenses, and taking time off work. But lately I’ve been staring at my shoe rack, realizing that if I sold every pair and cleaned out the closet racks above, I’d be in India in no time. And probably a much more content person because of it.

Not to keep harping on the science, but research has also been done concluding that purchases we save for, spend days or months (or years) thinking about before making, are generally much more satisfying than impulse buys. It all makes sense, but it’s something I personally need to hear over and over again to keep me from cleaning out the sale rack in every store. So I’ve made a promise to myself (and if you’re travel obsessed like me, I suggest you do the same): I will no longer make travel a back-burner priority to daydream about for “when I have time and money.”

Instead, I’m done over-purchasing possessions that I’ll forget about next week. I’m saving for India. I’ll bring a pair of sandals and some tennis shoes. And I will savor every experience I have—good and bad—until I don’t even remember that online shopping exists.