But the day after I got my license, I was on a plane back to the States, so I would have to wait until this past Sunday to finally enjoy the fruits of my labors.
You have to understand, I spent a good portion of my summer daydreaming about all the cool things Nana and I could do now that I could rent a car. I saw us speeding along the back roads of Itoshima for Saturday lunch at an out-of-the-way beach bar, or driving off to some distant mountain ryokan some Saturday night. We could just . . . Drive, and See Things, and Stop At Things If They Look Neat! Finally, we could stretch our wings a little bit, and get a taste of that other Japan, the one off the rail lines.
So how did I use my first taste of freedom?
I went to Costco, to buy American stuff.
Granted, I don't really consider this a defeat: throughout my ordeal last June, Costco was among the many green lights at the end of my dock. For Nana, it was always been less about me having a driver's license than it was about me having a go-to-Costco-whenever-we-want license. Which is fine with me, because Costco means hot dogs and peanut butter.
Still, I wish my first time driving in Japan--my first time driving on the left!--had been a little more momentous. I did nearly kill us twice, but that had nothing to do with the novelty of driving, and everything to do with the fact that the school van handles like a tank and brakes like a battleship.
If we hadn't made it, though, at least you could have said we'd died as we'd lived: in search of smoked brats and affordable cheese.
...and that fifty-five gallon drum of Vicks Vaporub?
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