The Morning the E-Ticket Wouldn't Open at Kairakuen | A Day Trip to See the Plums and Sea of Ibaraki (February 2026) #2

Just past 10:00 AM, the platform of the small temporary station was packed with people.
It was sunny and the sky was high, but there was a traffic jam right at our feet.

A wave of people being spewed out from the small station.
Beyond the ticket gate, a line of cars waiting for parking stretched on and on.

There are more people than I thought.

I share that thought with my wife through a look.
We couldn't find the sign right away. The flow of people wasn't in just one direction.
Our feet stopped at the same time.

We weren't exactly lost.
But we weren't sure of our way, either.

We asked a nearby staff member and finally learned the direction to the entrance.
I was surprised at how much a single arrow could put my mind at ease.

🎫 The Screen That Won't Connect

We reached the area near the entrance and I took out my smartphone.
All I had to do was display the e-ticket I had purchased in advance.

That was the plan.

The screen remained white.
The loading icon just kept spinning.

Refresh.
Refresh again.

People around us were holding up their smartphones just like us.
It seems that when there are a lot of people, the network gets congested too.

"Should we line up for paper tickets?"

My wife's voice was calm.
There was a long line a little ways off.

There was a stubborn part of me that felt we had come this far.
But I felt bad about making her wait in line.

There have been stressful moments since this morning.
My heart rate was a little fast.

The e-ticket has a restriction that you must enter within 5 minutes of displaying it.
The moment it opens, the clock starts ticking.

That fact only made my fingers move more frantically.

🎫 Should We Stick It Out or Walk Away?

While repeatedly hitting refresh, I suddenly wonder.

Should I stick it out here? Or should I move away a little?

I moved just a few dozen meters from the entrance. The density of people dropped ever so slightly.

There, I refreshed one more time.

The page opened.

A small QR code. It was just that, but it brought a sense of calm deep within my chest.

I immediately took a screenshot. So that I could present it even if the connection dropped.

I headed back to the entrance. This time, my steps felt a little lighter.

When I showed the screen to the attendant, they scanned it and said, "Yes, go ahead." Just like that, the tension left my shoulders.

🎫 Things that happen even when you're prepared

I had acquired it while on the special express train I was riding earlier and had even checked how to display it. I thought I was prepared.

Even so, if the network is congested, it stops. When people gather, the signal gets weak.

Digital is convenient, but it's not infallible. Congestion and connectivity don't seem to get along very well.

Instead of refreshing over and over on the spot, move away a little.

Once it displays, take a screenshot.

This isn't some grand lesson. It's just a movement my body learned in front of the station in spring.

People heading to large-scale events from now on might encounter similar situations.

Even if you prepare, the unexpected happens. Still, if you move away a little, some pages will open.

As I stepped into the garden, the smartphone in my pocket felt lighter than it did a moment ago.

I feel like I might panic in the same way somewhere else again.
When that happens, I'm sure I'll step back for a little while.

(To be continued)