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Season 1 Episode 22 of The Red Eye Podcast

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Today I’m excited to take you on a journey to a whole destination for The Red Eye. If you were crew in the late 90’s you may have guessed where we are going from the title, but for the rest of you let me give you a brief introduction to… Narita! A city some 70 kilometres from Tokyo, the vast majority of people that come here will visit only for its airport, either heading off into Tokyo or connecting somewhere else with the national airline which is based there. If you were to stop over though, you will find it is awash with airline crews from all over the world, flying into town aboard the scores of passenger and cargo jets that arrive there daily. Crew who are mostly on a different time zone and who will gravitate to the late-night bars that cater for them and drink the rocket fuelled drinks. For those of us who flew there in the late nineties and early noughties it was a place synonymous with karaoke bars and skull-crushing hangovers. It is a place like no other, and the subject of many a hysterical trip down memory lane… unless you are todays donor that is… she still struggles to laugh about what happened to her…

The Tokyu Hotel, Narita, 1999

The clinical hotel room made Julie shudder as the door closed behind her. Perhaps it was because the last time she was here she’d had the worst hangover of her entire life and spent a whole day crying in her bed, feeling like she was a patient in a private hospital room without flowers or visitors. She walked over to the window and looked out over the uninspiring scenery, morning had not long broken over the smattering of hotels and green areas, and not much was moving yet on the streets below. She put the cigarette that was already in her hand to her lips and lit it up, drawing the warm smoke into her lungs and feeling the nicotine start to relax her. It had been a long flight over from London, she deserved this, she told herself, as she pushed the window open a crack and blew the smoke out of it. It wasn’t forbidden to smoke in your room here, but even so, she preferred not to smell like an ashtray before she had even gone out. When she finished and there was nothing more left than the warm, white butt, she stubbed it out in the ashtray on the bedside table and looked around at what would be her home for the next forty-eight hours. A small single bed with sheets and a thin blanket, an open wardrobe in which the cotton kimono with clouds printed on it was hanging above the plastic slippers, and the desk on which stood the tv and video player… it was functional, but that was all.

This trip, Julie was determined that she would not suffer like she had done last time. Nooooo, she would never let herself get in that state again… not that it had all been down to the alcohol, she had been quite sure that the teriyaki burger from the vending machine in the crew room, the one that had still been frozen in the middle, had played some role in her gastro-intestinal issues. So, this trip, while she may have agreed to go out for a couple, or maybe a couple of couples of drinks this evening, she was determined to get the early bus home, and no amount of bad influence or cajoling was going to stop her! She would not be drinking Lemon Highs and she certainly wouldn’t be eating from the vending machine. Julie Margot, with her home dining in her Delsey suitcase, or Delsey Dining as it was called by the crew, would be waking up in her hotel-cum-hospital bed fresh as a daisy tomorrow morning, ready to hit the gym and go into town to see the temples… and on the second night she would be signing out some video tapes in the crew room to watch and be ready for check out bright eyed and bushy tailed the next morning! Her flight home wouldn’t involve her throwing up into a passenger’s sick bag whilst giving out dinner, or having to take a bottle of oxygen to crew rest like it had last time, and she may even be able to remember some of it...

Full of resolve she ignored the annoying doubt in the back of her mind, the voice that told her she was too easily led astray, as she took herself to the bathroom. She closed the lid on the complicated toilet with its warm seat and buttons that shot water in all manner of directions, including in your eye if you tried to work them out whilst leaning over it. Thankfully, that was one thing that she had got to grips with whilst she had vomited into it on numerous occasions, although a warm toilet seat would never seem right to her; to her it always felt like someone had just got off it. She climbed on top of the seat and reached up to the low ceiling, pushing the tile with the most fingerprints on it up and sliding it backwards. You never knew what you would find up here, things handed over from one of the numerous crews that stayed in the hotel, and she reached inside hopefully, patting around the edges until she felt something...

‘Bingo,’ she exclaimed, pulling out a small miniature of gin, and behind it a tiny can of tonic, silently thanking the crew member who had left it. It was as if they had known that this room would be assigned to Julie Margot next. Putting them in the sink, she reached in once more, further back this time, pulling out one thing after another from her very own Alladin’s cave. When she was certain there was nothing left, she jumped down and regarded her treasures with amusement… in total, as well as her gin and tonic, she had found four Japanese beers, a porn magazine with dog-eared corners and crispy pages, a packet of condoms with one missing and a VHS tape with the title ‘Debbie Does Dallas.’ Apart from the G&T she had no need for any of it, and so back in they all went to be found by the next person to stay in room 324. Pulling the tile back into place she got down and washed her hands, the thought of the magazine sending an involuntary shiver down her back. It was so stereotypical, she thought, laughing to herself as she poured her drink and lit another cigarette, but she guessed men had their needs and all that male nonsense...

**********

That evening the crew took the hotel bus into Narita town. A quick bite to eat and they headed to Flyer’s bar, where airline paraphernalia covered every inch of the walls, except that was for the wall that was full of boob photos. So far Julie had not been persuaded to have hers taken, despite the offer by the owner of free drinks for life...

‘Here,’ said her captain, handing her a local beer from the round he had just bought for everyone.

‘Oh, thanks,’ she said, taking it from him. She hoped that her false gratitude at least seemed genuine while her inner voice was wailing. So far, she had been happy to pay a little extra for the imported brands, knowing that as good as the local beer tasted she would pay for it in the morning. The rumour was that it contained arsenic, and whilst no one had ever found proof of it, the fact was that its consumption was closely linked to the level of headache you could expect the next day. Ah well, she thought, seeing that everyone else was happily throwing theirs back, I’m sure one won’t hurt.

At ten o’clock the now rather merry group moved onto The Barge Inn, and then suddenly time seemed to speed up. As the clock struck eleven, Julie found herself hit with making a decision that she had been so sure about earlier.

‘So, who’s coming to The Truck?’ asked one of the pilots.

Julie gritted her teeth as the devil on her shoulder taunted her. Her mind and body were so awake, it was early at home after all, and she was sure she felt quite sober. Just down the lane were two buses. One would take her back to the hotel, the other would take her to the den of iniquity that was The Truck.  ‘I’m in,’ she said, adding for her own ears: ‘But I’m getting the early bus home…’

‘Of course you are,’ someone laughed.

‘We’re ready,’ the pilot called over to the bar where the Japanese man who was apparently going to drive the bus was finishing his beer. He held up his hand to show he had heard, tipped his head back as he poured the rest of his beer down his throat and slammed the empty bottle on the bar next to two others. ‘Let’s go,’ he said with a clap of his hands, cheerfully leading them out.

In less than an hour Julie had said goodbye to all of her resolve. The Truck, so named because the whole of the bar sat inside of a shipping container, was packed as usual with crew from all over, each stood in their groups, taking turns to represent their airlines on the karaoke stage. Without any announcements, and with what seemed to be a random selection of hits played back-to-back, it was a free for all. By now Julie had accepted that tomorrow would be a bad day, and as such had decided, with questionable reasoning, that she may as well make the most of the night. So, here she was, stood with her crew, a Lemon High in her hand, singing along to the German girls on the karaoke as they sang spectacularly off key to Belinda Carlisle. She had no doubt that at some point in the not-too-distant future, her alter ego, the one who came out when she was drunk enough to not care what anyone thought, would be persuaded to get up there too and show them how it was done…

‘Jesus,’ said the captain as he appeared in the midst of them with a look of horror on his face. At first Julie thought he was talking about the singing, but then he ducked down, hiding from someone, or something behind them. ‘Save me,’ he cried theatrically.

Julie looked down at the crouching coward beneath her and laughed. ‘What’s happened?’ she asked.

He stood up, glancing over their shoulders before quickly turning around. ‘Those two old American crew want a piece of me.’ They all turned around to see who he was talking about, spotting the two ladies he was referring to at the back of the room, deep in what looked like a heated conversation. They were glamorous enough, Julie thought, but easily in their late fifties, and the captain was young in captain’s terms, perhaps early forties, maybe even late thirties, it was hard to tell. Whatever the number, he was far younger than they were.

 ‘The blonde one just asked if she could come back to my room, and the other one called her a back-stabbing bitch, so I made my excuses and legged it,’ he said raising one eyebrow and sipping his drink. ‘I’m not being mean, but she looks like a double of my mum,’ he shuddered.

They all watched in amusement as another prey walked past them and was drawn in. ‘I think you’re safe mate, that guy they are talking to now is cargo,’ said the first officer. ‘I was chatting to him earlier and he’s been in and out of here for two weeks. Two weeks in Narita is enough to send anyone’s moral compass off course,’ he laughed, and he seemed to be right, the man in the rugby shirt seemed to be lapping up their attention.

Standing on the edge of the group Julie was suddenly aware of someone stood so close to her that she could feel their breath on her neck, and smell the alcohol on it. She turned to see a man in a pink shirt, with pock marked skin and a swollen red nose leering down at her. She stepped back, smiling awkwardly back up at him. ‘Can I help you?’

‘You are the most beautiful girl in here,’ he slurred. ‘Can I please buy you a drink?’

‘Oh, for goodness sake, do one mate,’ said the captain who appeared beside her, putting a protective arm around her and pulling her back into their group. ‘That guy gives us pilots a bad name. He’s been pestering every girl in here,’ he said, loud enough for him to hear. It seemed to wash over him though, and he merely turned his unwanted attentions to the unsuspecting girl behind him.

‘Shall we get him?’ the first officer asked with a wink.

The captain grinned. ‘I reckon we should,’ he said with a chuckle. Julie had no idea what they meant, and never had a chance to ask as she was hauled away to the stage for karaoke. Nor did she know that their plan would be misjudged and that it would end up being her who got ‘got’…

************

The one thirty bus had long gone and the three o’clock one would be along soon, and so, after putting it off for as long as she could, Julie staggered outside of the bar and to the toilets. A row of stalls lined up underneath a corrugated roof, but their doors were only chest high and only therefore suitable for the most shameless females, and so she waited patiently outside of the one Portaloo. As she made it to the front of the queue the door opened and out staggered the pilot from earlier, the one with the pink shirt. His eyes were straight on her, and she rushed past him before he had a chance to say anything, pulling the door shut and locking it. She groaned when she saw there was no toilet roll, but she really needed to go and so she pulled her skirt up, pants down, and hovered above the seat.

The lemon Highs had taken effect now and her head was spinning. As the walls started to move, she gave up trying to hover and sat down, putting her arms out either side of her, pressing against the walls to steady herself. It didn’t seem to help though, and the small cubicle went from spinning to rocking back and forth. Then the back and forth got further each way and just as she realised what was happening the Portaloo in which she was now trapped tipped over backwards. Thrown against the wall she felt it slipping down the hill behind where it had been stood, and as she landed in a distorted heap in the ceiling, she threw her hands over her face, gagging as the contents of the toilet emptied all over her bare limbs. When it stopped moving and when the liquid stopped pouring, Julie lay frozen as she contemplated what had just happened.

Julie Margot had just been toppled down a hill in a Portaloo.

Julie Margot was upside down in a Portaloo.

Julie Margot was covered in Portaloo liquid, upside down in a Portaloo…

Suddenly sober, inside of her own body she screamed, but nothing came out except a muffled cry. She wanted to shout for help. She knew that if she wanted to get out that she should start pummelling the door or something to get their attention, but as she curled up in the ceiling she stayed silent… overwhelmed by the idea of anyone seeing or smelling her like this. The thought of it was so far beyond humiliating that she would rather just stay in here forever.

In the fall the light had gone out, and she was pleased that she could not see the substance that was now clinging to her skin as it dried. She reached down and pulled her underwear clumsily up, listening to the sounds of laughter and talking getting more and more distant, and then the sound of a vehicle’s engine starting up as her bus home drove away. Eventually, when she felt safe from being found she uncurled herself and went about finding the way out. Finding the handle she pushed the door up and over, its weight heavy now that it was above her. She took a moment to appreciate the stars in the night sky above her, and the fresh air that filled her nostrils before heaving herself up and clambering ungracefully out and over the door. On the hard plastic she felt water seeping under her knees, and even when she had crawled into the rather spikey grass, the ground below seemed to be sodden.

‘Quit treading on my barley mate or I’ll lop your flipping lolly off,’ came an Australian voice out of the darkness.

Julie’s heart skipped a beat and she quickly pulled her skirt, which had become hitched around her waist in her efforts to get out, down to cover her underwear. With just the moonlight to see by she could just make out a figure sat a few feet away on the grass. She stood up and looked down at what she was standing on, realising now that he had mentioned it, that whilst it wasn’t barley, it was rice. She had landed in a rice field. She stank, and… she realised as the adrenalin left her, she was still so drunk that she wasn’t even sure if she cared right now.

‘It’s not barley, it’s rice,’ she muttered, sitting back down, and then laying, shutting her eyes, just for a minute…

**********

When dawn broke the next morning the melody of the birds were at first just a part of her dream. The sun was warm already and she was smiling, somewhere happy that she didn’t really know. It was the Australian voice that interrupted her, the finger prodding her arm that broke her out of that place where she was normal and not soaking wet with a sinking feeling in her stomach that was as deep as the ocean.

Reluctantly she opened one eye, a stabbing pain immediately searing across her head, making her shut it again.

‘Are you okay love?’

‘Mmmm,’ she mumbled, clutching her head in both hands as she sat slowly up. She opened both eyes now, focussing on the face of the middle-aged man in front of her. He was a pilot, she could just tell.

‘What happened?’ she asked, not wanting to look behind her.

‘I tried to stop ‘em,’ he said with a slow shake of his head. ‘But I think they thought you were that dick with the pink shirt.’

‘Oh.’ Julie frowned as she thought back to the night before, looking up at the innocent container that looked so different in the cold light of day. She could remember the pilot he was speaking of, he had been annoying everyone. So that was why they had done it, they had thought it was him that they were toppling over in the Portaloo, and she was betting that it was her pilots who had done it too… But it hadn’t been him that was in there, it had been her, she cried inwardly, looking down at the bluey green liquid that had dried on her legs and arms.

‘I stink,’ she said.

‘Yep, you certainly do.’

Julie shot him a sideways look, unsure if she should be offended or not. Was he laughing at her? Why were his shoulders shaking like that?

‘You’re not looking so great yourself,’ she retorted, looking him up and down. His beige trousers and checked shirt were soaked through from where he too had slept in the wet field, his dark hair stuck down on one side and up on the other.

‘Nope, I’m really not,’ he said, the laughter coming out now, a snigger that slowly built up to a belly laugh that made Julie laugh too, until they were both in hysterics.

‘They can probably smell me in Tokyo,’ Julie cried.

‘Oh, much further than that,’ he laughed, prompting Julie to punch him playfully in the arm with her blue-stained fist.

‘Phil, by the way,’ he said when they had managed to calm down somewhat.

Julie looked down at his wet beige chinos and grinned. ‘Pilot?’ she asked.

He frowned. ‘Yes, how did you know?’

‘Oh, I could just tell,’ she said. Chinos, boat shoes, checked shirts… they were like a second uniform for pilots, their ‘land’ outfits so to speak. She held out her hand. ‘Julie, pleased to meet you.’ They both looked at the blue stain that ran the whole length of her arm and onto the back of her hand, and she pulled it back, settling for a grateful smile instead. ‘Did you miss the bus home too?’ she asked.

Phil shook his head. ‘I couldn’t leave you on your own like that so thought I’d wait and make sure you were ok.’

‘Really?’ Julie asked, taken aback by what he was telling her. He shrugged, and she knew that he was telling the truth. This kind man, who didn’t even know her, had slept in a saturated rice field next to a stinking Portaloo to make sure she was ok. ‘Wow,’ she said, struggling to find the words she needed. ‘Thank you,’ she said eventually, too hungover to think of anything better.

‘Anytime,’ he smiled. ‘I’ve had a blast, but we should probably try and get home at some point though…’

Julie looked down at herself and sighed. ‘I need a cigarette before I go anywhere,’ she said, reaching into her back pocket and pulling out a blue-soaked Marlboro packet. She opened it, confirming that the contents were blue too, along with a handful of Yen. ‘Shit,’ she said and tossed the packet behind her. Despite the fact that the yen were probably worth a few dinners at home, she was not up for the job of trying to make them usable, and as for the cigarettes…

‘Mine are a bit wet, but they might be salvageable,’ said Phil, who was holding his own damp packet.

Julie reached out and took them from him. ‘Wet is fine,’ she said, pulling one out and inspecting it, ‘blue is not. Here, you hold, I’ll dry.’ She flicked her lighter a few times to ignite the damp flint and gently dried two cigarettes, one for each of them, with the flame.

***********

Their cigarettes finished, Phil pushed himself up from the ground. ‘I reckon they’ll take us back,’ he said, tipping his head in the direction of the hotel across the carpark opposite them. At some point in their conversation, they had discovered that he was staying in the same hotel as Julie. He offered a hand down to her. She took it and let herself be pulled up.

In the back of the minibus they were silent as the kind driver drove them back to The Tokyu. She was sure when she caught his reflection in the rear-view mirror that his eyes were watering with the smell, but she had opened the window and there was little else that she could do. She wondered if he would have been so accommodating and driven them if Phil hadn’t gone in alone to ask. When they reached the hotel, she thanked him politely and looked down at the floor as she did the most shameful walk of shame she had ever done across the hotel lobby, grateful to Phil for staying at her side.

‘Thank you so much for everything,’ she said once they were alone in the lift. ‘I would give you a hug but…’

‘You’re good,’ he laughed, stepping back. ‘See you in town tonight?’ he asked as the lift opened on her floor.

She shook her head ‘no.’ There were some things that could be forgotten fairly quickly, like vomiting, or extreme hangovers, but it was going to be a while before she could face The Truck again, or before she could even use a Portaloo for that matter. ‘I am going to have the longest shower and then I shall be staying in and having a quiet night,’ she said as she stepped out… and this time there was no doubting voice in the back of her head questioning if she might be persuaded. This time, she thought as she darted to her room before anyone saw her, she would definitely not be going out, and there was absolutely no doubt about it…