When I suddenly announced I was going to Australia, my parents were speechless for a while. My father just stared.
"Think about what you're saying. Do you even know how to speak English?"
My mother was dubious.
"How are you going to pay for it? There's no point in trying to get us to pay."
"I've saved my pay from work, and if I skip my club outing I can afford a cheap ticket."
I had calculated the cost of a roundtrip ticket to Perth, bus fare to and from the airport, cheap lodgings for the duration of my stay, and train fare to and from Fremantle. I'd be cutting it very, very close. There was no room in the budget for shopping or any extras, but considering that the trip itself would be a major good time, that was nothing to complain about. While looking into the various arrangements I'd really gotten into the whole idea.
"Over the summer I have to write a report about international economics, so I thought I'd get a firsthand look at the state of Australia's trade with Japan and write about that."
When I tacked on this study-related rationale, my parents basically abandoned their opposition. They were still curious about why I wanted to go to Australia, but they couldn't really object if their son wanted to go overseas to broaden his mind. Or maybe they could have, but after I showed them pages from a guidebook I'd photocopied at the library and explained that western Australia was both safe and relatively inexpensive, they let themselves be persuaded. Faced with no other choice, my father said okay.
"Well then, be a good son and bring us back some souvenirs."
Suddenly my mother's eyes were sparkling,
"If you're going to Australia, an opal ring would be nice."
"Unless you send me off with a little something I won't have enough to buy souvenirs. Sorry, I'm not kidding."
Suddenly my father was scowling.
"What the hell! He wants to bum money off his parents after all."
My mother chimed in.
"It's true. He just takes us for granted."
If so, I took after my parents, I thought, but I didn't dare say so at the time. I'd gotten their permission to go, and if I spoiled the mood all would be lost.
On the day of my departure, though, my parents together gave me 5,000 yen. They knew I'd be roughing it and stretching my funds to the limit. This way, they said, at least I'd be able to feed myself. Four nights and five days were all I could afford, and with another thousand yen a day to spend I probably wouldn't have to skip many meals.
I left on a night flight from Narita Airport. I'd be spending the first and last of my four nights on airplanes, which would probably be exhausting but wouldn't bother me too much, considering what I'd save on lodging expenses. On this, the first night, I was nervous and excited to be taking my first trip abroad—alone—and I hardly got any sleep on the plane at all.
Naturally, with my wretched English and meager finances, I couldn't help but feel somewhat uneasy. Even so, my worries were outshone by a sense of anticipation that rose higher once the plane took off. I was thrilled, despite the fact that I had no real idea what I was looking forward to. Gazing at the plastic Australian bills I'd received when I changed money at Narita, I felt like a schoolboy going on his very first field trip.
I couldn't wait to meet Scott and Zhang. My heart practically jumped for joy at the thought of our rendezvous at the gateway to the imaginary island, but there was more to it than that: I felt as though something inside me was about to change somehow. It was partly a premonition that something new was going to begin and partly a feeling that I was going to be released from something that had been holding me in its grip. I felt euphoric, as though another me, a me I'd never even noticed before, were awakening. What I didn't feel was one bit sleepy.
Even if I hadn't been under the sway of powerful emotions, though, there were more immediate factors keeping sleep at bay. Needless to say, my seat was in economy class, so I couldn't stretch out, and the middle-aged woman next to me was snoring lustily. As if that weren't enough, each passenger seat came with a video screen, along with a handset you could use to play video games.
Chess was one of the games offered, and it seemed like a good chance to test the skills I'd honed playing Scott and Zhang. They had a system enabling passengers to play against one another. The opponent's seat number was displayed, so I was able to get a look at the people I was playing against when I walked down the aisle to the bathroom. It was disheartening to find out that the player who'd easily defeated me was a mere child, but when I saw that the opponent I had struggled to defeat was a Westerner wearing a business suit, I felt as though I had outwitted an assassin dispatched from the birthplace of chess. Until then I'd only played chess on the Internet, so this was the first time I'd ever seen my opponents in person. This reminded me that I'd soon be meeting Scott and Zhang in person, which only heightened the anticipation and made me feel less sleepy than ever.
They were both supposed to arrive in Australia before me. In keeping with our standing arrangement, the rendezvous was set for Wednesday, at noon. The meeting place, of course, was the Old Port sign, facing the Indian Ocean.
When we were confirming the final arrangements, Scott presented us with a problem that could have been either a warning or another lateral thinking puzzle.
>>Travelers to Australia who try to figure out which way is west by looking at the sun often get it wrong. Why? Be careful.
I'd had no idea what I was supposed to be careful about, but once I started boning up on Australia at the library and on the Internet, the answer to Scott's riddle came easily. Revealing the solution to my two friends was one more thing to look forward to.
Edited by Japan Echo Inc.