Japan Stories: August 1999

Dripping wet in the
nicest hotel in the world

We arrive in Japan at the very end of August, on Sunday, August 29. The flight over from Seattle is comfortable, thanks to a frequent flyer upgrade. We take the Narita Express train from the airport to Shinjuku, and get to the station about 7:00 pm or so. Our hotel for the first two weeks will be the Park Hyatt Tokyo, a place Jan picked from a coffee table book about hotels 'cause it looked so damn cool: it's at the top of the Shinjuku Park Tower skyscraper in western Shinjuku, and looks to have a beautiful interior. According to a map we downloaded from the hotel's web site, the hotel is close enough to walk from the station. The map offers an interesting choice: 1) a twelve-minute walk above ground along a main thoroughfare, or 2) a seven-minute walk through a warren of underground shopping malls. Option #1 sounds easier, so we set out with our big wheeled carts of luggage. This option is immediately satisfactory, as we can already see the tops of our destination, the Shinjuku Park Tower, looming several blocks away.

A half a block later, it starts to rain. Another half a block, and it starts to really, really pour. We never get rain like this in Seattle, so it's initially kind of fun. We duck under the awning of a CitiBank branch, and try to wait for the worst to pass.

Foolishly hoping to wait out the rain

After ten or fifteen minutes, we think the rain is letting up, but it's actually just weakening to a regular torrential downpour. We could be here for a long time, so we decide to just walk as quickly as we can. We get drenched. We're starting to wonder just how much of this water is soaking into our bags, too. By the time we reach the circular drive for the Park Hyatt, we can't get any wetter. Standing in front of the hotel entrance is a veritable phalanx of uniformed valets. One catches sight of us, and alerts the rest. They can't believe someone's actually walking in this rain. Any normal person would have taken a cab. Somehow, this option hadn't really occurred to us. The valets sweep into action, running out to take our bags, console us, hand us fluffy white dry towels, and call for emergency backup.

From this point on, we know we're in good hands. We have at last arrived at our destination. A senior valet—a valet lieutenant of sorts—takes charge of us, leading us through a small lobby to an elevator. Our wet sneakers squeak across the marble floor. Lots of uniformed people bow to us and welcome us to the hotel. The valet lieutenant gets onto the elevator with us, and presses the button for the 41st floor. This is the floor where the hotel actually begins. Some women are riding up in the elevator with us, apparently on their way to a party. They are immaculately dressed, including one middle-aged women in a gorgeous kimono. Water is still dripping off our clothes onto the floor of the elevator.

The Park Hyatt's way cool Peak Lounge (not our photo)

The elevator opens at the 41st floor onto an airy atrium with a stunning view of nighttime Tokyo. The valet lieutenant walks us through the atrium, down a large hallway past an elegant French restaurant, and delivers us to the reception area. This reception area consists of a few mahogany desks and comfortable chairs. Behind one of the desks is a hotel employee who's already been alerted to our arrival and has checked us in, and simply needs our signature. We're shown to our room, an enormous one by Japanese standards, with its own beautiful view of Tokyo at night.

This hotel is possibly the nicest place we've ever stayed. The exhilaration is, shall we say, dampened by the fact that we look like wet rats. But hey! It doesn't matter: we're here!

Sunrise over Shinjuku skyscrapers

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