It was the trip of a lifetime. Not so much that we were able to travel to Japan, but because we were able to do so as a complete family (Daddy was with us in spirit, of course). We all had never been. It was a totally brand new experience for each and every one of us but it was such a blast. It wasn’t always fun or easy, especially where logistics was concerned, but we managed to survive the little ordeals without disowning one another.

I don’t really know whose idea was it in the first place. If our family group video calls were a business meeting, I would be that one employee that just yep!s everything when I’m not on mute or looking like a pretty good candidate for immediate termination should the company retrench.

Accommodations were organised. Tickets were bought. Itineraries were systematically arranged. My two highly capable sisters did such a spectacular job that all I had to do, simply, was pay the invoices sent my way.

I wasn’t fussed. I was happy to do whatever, go wherever. No drama.

On the third week of my 4-week holiday, my family and I were at the airport once more. This time, boarding a flight to Narita. One of those red-eye flights that saw at least one of us carrying a sleeping Raven through immigration and terminals.

Thank God for May-Ann’s lounge passes. We all had a very comfortable wait at The Plaza Premium Lounge, with their Filipino buffet and soft couches, charging stations, and ambient lighting.

“So this is where premium travelers crash in peace and comfort,” I thought to myself, feeling very much like a premium traveler myself even though by extension.

Even Jeff, who was initially averse to using the Priority Pass card, was suddenly getting used to the lifestyle, wondering out loud if there was a lounge as soon as we got to Mactan Airport.

The next morning saw us in a different country. Jeff on the arrivals waiting area assembling his eblades. Dennis sorting out our JR passes. The rest of us marveling at the various vending machines that saw no need for human staffing to complete the transactions. The currency exchange was pretty much like an ATM. Pop your Aussie Dollars in, press some buttons, and out comes your Japanese Yen to buy onigiri at a nearby shop.

Speaking of JR Pass, big shout out to my brother-in-law, Dennis, for being such a wonderful team leader. HE. WAS. AMAZING! I cannot stress it highly enough. He truly went above and beyond. His superior services may have bordered on modern-day slavery by being a baggage handler too on the side but he smashed it. He really did.

(I felt a tiny bit sorry for him and Jeff, actually. Being the only males in the family, they were genetically programmed to be the porters. With all the luggages we had and the limited amount of time the doors of the Shinkansen bullet train stayed open to let us out as a group without any bag or body left behind to accidentally journey into the next station, it was quite a hectic exercise of anticipation, preparation, and emergency evacuation.)

But, oh, to be a bunch of excited first-timers! All of us with stars in our eyes and “Woow!!!” on our mouths as soon as we saw the guard rails automatically lift up in conjunction with the arrival of the train. I mean, you know, we certainly don’t have those things in our province.

Welcome to Japan!

*Raven at 7 years old