Then it all seemed alien and a little frightening. This time it felt comfortable. A group of middle-aged Japanese tourists were at the same carousel, retrieving their bags after a fortnight in Hawaii or some other popular holiday resort. It's the time when you say goodbye to the new friends you've made. Close friends for two weeks, now probably never to be seen again.
Westerners shake hands and exchange phone numbers.
But the Japanese bow. Not the curt nods of politeness, but deep bows, frequently repeated, hands on knees amid the chaos of reclaiming bags at a busy airport terminal. They say Yoshiro Mori has a hide like a rhinoceros. Tokyo looked the same on the way from the airport. The taxis were the same too - black doors that open automatically, white covers on the back seats, even white gloves for the drivers.