Far Side of the Weekend


In the Kanda district, Sunday night, about 8 p.m., and things are sedate by any big city’s standards. We’re getting up early to take a long-ish train ride down to Nagoya, where we’ll meet the Hattoris, the family I stayed with when I was here as a student in 1976.

For today I’ll only say that I’ll never get used to the experience of getting on a flight one day (we left San Francisco about 1:30 p.m. Saturday) and disembarking well into the next (we landed in Narita, north of Tokyo, at 4:30 p.m. Sunday). It’s way, way past my bedtime (5 a.m. Sunday morning in Berkeley), but just 9 at night here. I’m ready to turn in.

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