The Last Flight Out of Hiroshima

by Lindsay Gumm (United States of America)

A leap into the unknown Japan

It was the summer of 2018 and our final day in Japan. It had been 3 weeks of 7-11 breakfasts, ramen dinners, and eerily quiet trips on public transportation. It had been raining heavily the last few days, but that was to be expected this time of year. We had only a comfortable shinkansen ride between us and a long flight back to California. Japan’s bullet trains are some of the most reliable forms of public transportation in the world. So reliable in fact that they have been known for formally apologizing to their travelers when arriving a mere 20 seconds late. So when I booked our arrangements to travel across the country from Iwakuni to Tokyo in a single day, it never occurred to me that this might be a risky move. As soon as we arrived at the train station, I knew something was wrong. There were groups of people huddled everywhere, and long lines at the ticket windows. I couldn’t read kanji, but I could read flashing red symbols next to the train departure times. I waited in line with the other distressed travelers to confirm what I already knew to be true; All the high speed trains out of Iwakuni were cancelled. We had 500+ miles to travel and approximately 7 hours. I knew that if we couldn’t catch a high speed train, there was no way we could make it to Tokyo. And with non-refundable flights, we would be out several thousand dollars. Which, for budget travelers like ourselves, were high stakes. Also. I’ve never missed a flight. I make meticulous plans and spend many hours in internet and travel literature research for all our trips. Not just my bank account, but my pride was on the line. We had to find another way, but the rains had created mudslides. In addition to the high speed trains, most of the local trains in the area were also inoperable. But there was still a line running to Hiroshima. I figured, we had to at least try. When we got to Hiroshima, we faced the same fate as we did in Iwakuni. The shinkansen lines were down. Then I had brilliant idea. If the land routes were inaccessible, maybe we could travel by air. Less than 5 hours remaining, and still 500 miles to go. Another bus ride to the airport, the time slowing dwindling down. The airport in Hiroshima was even more packed than the train stations. More flashing red symbols on the flight status board. Things were not looking good. Under 4 hours left on the clock, and there was only one flight departing from Hiroshima that hadn’t yet been cancelled due to weather. Call it divine intervention. Call it luck. Whatever you call it, there were literally two seats remaining on that flight, and no time to spare. We walked directly from the ticket counter, were swept through security, and sat down in our seats. 3 and one half hours to go. At this point in the story, I think it’s worth mentioning that there are 2 airports in Tokyo - Narita and Haneda. I would like to say that we were en route to our ultimate departure destination, Narita; but unfortunately for us, and my nerves, our journey was not yet over. We had t-minus 2 hours before takeoff in Narita and a 1 hour bus ride standing in the way of our destiny/AKA Japan Airlines Flight 66. I will spare you any further suspense and the details of my anxiety sweating, and tell you that, we did, in fact, make our flight home that day. We arrived at our gate, just as boarding had begun, only minutes remaining on the countdown. I couldn’t believe it had worked. Despite the best efforts of mother nature, we actually made it. And that’s the thing I love most about traveling- not the running, and the stressing, per se- it’s the adventure. You can plan and prepare and research, but ultimately, you don’t know what you will encounter until you arrive. You have to be flexible and creative. Traveling, like catching the last flight out of Hiroshima, is always a risk. But it’s one worth taking.