To adapt Oscar Wilde, if there's one thing worse than hordes of tourists everywhere, it's no tourists anywhere. Such were my thoughts as I tramped through the deserted hallways of Tokyo's Narita Airport one recent evening.
The lighting was dimmed as if for a funeral, and the only refreshments available were in eerily glowing vending machines. However, I got personal service from a cluster of masked and gloved immigration personnel who politely asked why I was leaving Japan and warned that I might not be allowed to return.
