First Impressions of Japan (they're good)

It all started when the captain made eye contact, bowed and flashed us a smile to melt icecaps.

We were at the boarding gate, awaiting our post-midnight Japan Airlines flight to Tokyo.

I was scowling and frowning and wishing I was anywhere but about to get on a big metal albatross that farts C02 and strikes terror into my statistics-make-no-difference, physics-ignorant heart.

And then came the crew, striding through the gate.

My life is in your hands for the next 10 hours, I thought. Hope you’ve had caffeine.

As they entered the jet bridge, we spotted the captain. Unmistakable. Not the tallest of men, but oozing authority. Wheeling a little grey bag, wearing a neat navy suit.

His hair deserved worship. Thick, silver, and swept back from his forehead in the ultimate blow wave. His face, a picture of symmetry and wisdom.

And as he walked down the aisle, he turned, looking George and I dead in the eyes. He gave the slightest, most polite nod and cracked a smile I’ll never forget.

All hail the captain.

Since then, we’ve been peppered with Japanese kindness.

The air hostess took us under her wing, teaching us phrases (futile) and giving us a postcard full of local tips and love hearts.

A man at the train station patiently walked us through the ticketing process, before repeating the whole ordeal with the next clueless tourist.

Sushi chefs have humoured our ordering idiocy, dishing out the good stuff while turning a blind eye to our table manners.

Bar tenders have included us in their raucous convos with friends, calling us ‘cute’ and dispensing indispensable J-pop tips.

On public transport, there are signs reminding locals to help baffled tourists navigate the system. I haven’t seen anything like that in Australia.

Japanese manners, thoughtfulness and grace are unparalleled.

Arigatou gozaimasu from two Nihon newbies.