One of the prerequisites of the international airline pilots trade is the opportunity to explore many of the worlds cities. That is， if one has recovered from the aggregated hours of flight across assorted time zones. True rest is difficult to come by， so most of us inhabit a kind of twilight zone in which we appear to be alive and well but underneath the persevering exterior remains a numbness that clings like paint. In this altered state of awareness we carry on weary conversations that eventually make no sense， snore through a motion picture， fall into our food over dinner， exude loud speech and wilder actions in some sort of compensatory behaviour for knowing we are not one hundred percent， perhaps not even fifty percent. This demeanor is part of us， and always will be until we hang up the hat and finally achieve a decent nights sleep， over and again， and the business card says “retired”.

But the journey is fun. And thats what were all about. And， this time， it was in Osaka， Japan. I was on my own and decided to wander around an enticing area Id explored on other trips， anticipating a continued adventure begun on my last visit.

Some lovely hours were spent poking around， first in the antique shops then the model stores. I even added to my unbuilt model airplane kit collection， representing some 300 years of modeling ahead. Then， finding the narrow sidestreet that led to the noodle shop I had discovered previously， I embarked on an almost mystical adventure. The preceding month I had entered this tiny restaurant on a whim， or I thought of it as by chance. A Japanese noodle shop， so called， is fairly typical， and if you have ever been in one you know what I mean. There are a few diminutive tables and chairs but the focus is on a counter behind which the cook administers his trade directly in front of the customers， conjuring such delicacies as gayoza and a number of savory noodle and rice dishes. All this is accomplished against a tapestry of cooking smoke， the crackle of hot oils， and occasionally some resounding vocal accompaniment.

On that particular day business was slow， and the owner/cook started a conversation in somewhat broken but understandable English. Upon hearing that I was an airline pilot， he nodded， smiled and said， “I have friend to meet you. I will call him now. Please talk with him. Maybe find what you both looking for.”

Now that was a bit cryptic， as well as enticing. What WAS I looking for？ How would this man know？ Where would I be led？ Why？