Rice and Shime

Posted on 18/07/2014 by Luke

I wake up at 11 a.m. Today, I’m heading to a place called Dazaifu, roughly fifteen kilometres away. Cycling on my one-speed bike in a straight line towards it, it should take me about an hour. Last night, the girl I met suggested I visit there—a kind suggestion.

As I set out, I discover a Domino’s Pizza just five minutes away from the hostel on the same road. I haven’t had one since arriving here—fifty days in Japan, only four pizzas so far. Tomorrow, it’ll probably become five.

A bit further along the road, near the Mikasagawa River, the skyscrapers start to disappear, and the sight of rice growing underwater becomes commonplace. Paddy fields full of semi-aquatic rice—it’s a picturesque sight, deserving a photograph.

Amidst the distraction of the rice fields, I suddenly realise that I am completely lost. In typical Fukuoka fashion, I see no maps, and signs pointing to Dazaifu have ceased to appear. Eventually, after cycling for about an hour, I find myself somehow at the base of a mountain.

For about ten minutes, I cycle without seeing another pedestrian. Eventually, a sign for a place called Shime catches my eye. My brain pauses for a second before a pun crashes into my consciousness. I decide to head there if only to make use of the pun: Rice and Shime.

It turns out Shime is up a hill—likely the same mountain I spotted earlier. I haven’t done much uphill cycling since Beppu, so my knees aren’t quite prepared for it. The footpath leading into Shime is in a state of disarray. Eventually, the incline transforms into a decline, and I find myself in a free fall into Shime. The wind is refreshingly cool on what is otherwise an alarmingly hot day.

If you thought my post about Nishioita Station was exciting, wait until you hear about what Shime has to offer. Low-flying planes drift over and hang gracefully in the sky. At least I can follow the planes and track back to Fukuoka Airport; I know this isn’t far from Hakata, where I am staying.

I cycle around Shime, searching for anything of interest, but find nothing. Wikipedia confirmed it: ‘Although the town still has a railway station, the line is no longer used.’ Seems there’s no escaping Shime. Just as I decide to leave, I finally spot something noteworthy: a chicken wandering around in some mud.

“Koke-kokko,” says the chicken in Japanese.
“Cluck-cluck,” I correct in English.

As I leave Shime, I find myself on the urban expressway, where all of the signs point to unfamiliar place names. I give in and revert to my plan of following the planes, soon arriving at the not very well-signed Fukuoka Airport.

I see the same Chinook I saw yesterday, just landed. How very odd—I haven’t seen a Chinook in over fifteen years, and yet this week, I’ve seen the same one twice.

After cycling for a total of three hours, I arrive back at the hostel and indulge in a Seven Eleven lunch: a bottle of Pocari Sweat, a fruit salad, and, as usual, egg sandwiches.

After lunch, I do my laundry. In the Coin Laundry waiting area, there’s a rather odd set of photographs. I have no idea what they are showing. Alongside the images are some Japanese notices.

I translate the notices back at the hostel. They read, ‘To prevent theft: if you notice any suspicious individuals, please contact the barnyard alternating Hakata police station if it was a robbery.’ There are also references to a theft in February, and still images captured by the 24-hour CCTV camera showing the criminal’s face. Named and shamed in a Coin Laundry.

After doing laundry and spending some time on Skype, I head to Hakata Station. Instead of taking the lift, I monotonously explore each of the ten floors. Hakata Station is a massive shopping centre with all sorts of shops, including the biggest bookstore I have ever seen.

There’s a record shop selling rare Japanese versions of classic albums. Perhaps there’s a profit to be made in reselling, but I don’t have the patience for that. I check for ‘Com Lag,’ but it’s the only Radiohead album they don’t have. The record shop also dedicates three entire aisles to the music of everyone’s favourite J-pop idols, AKB48. Crazy.

On the roof of the train station, I sit for a few hours, finishing off 159 pages of a Murakami novel. Night quietly sweeps in. The view at night is okay, but devoid of any stars. I ponder for a moment, questioning reality.

The Murakami book somewhat inspires me to make some changes in my life, specifically to start running more often.

On the tenth floor of Hakata Station, a Spanish restaurant.

Paella and Rioja happen.

I jog back to the hostel, finding the late hours have already wrapped the city in silence, a stark contrast to the bustling streets earlier. Passing by the second Christmas tree I’ve seen since arriving in Japan, I can’t help but wonder why it’s there; it does seem a little early for such decorations.

The reflection of Lawson blue bounces off the glass beyond.

Much Beppu About Nothing

Posted on 13/07/2014 by Luke

I haven’t really done any touristy things during my last two days in Beppu. Instead, I have listened to far too much Blind Pilot and filled the rest of my days reading Haruki Murakami. In the evenings I have visited bars. On Friday night I got to the semi-finals of a Table Tennis tournament, only to be beaten by Yojiro. Today I will write about general things in Japan.

Vending machines. There are far too many Coca Cola vending machines for my liking. One is too many if I am completely honest. As a non-consumer of this particular brand of misery (reasons: child labour, worker rights, pollution, murder), I often find myself cycling around looking for a machine with the Suntory Boss brand. The best vending machines offer Coffee Boss Rainbow Blend, and if I am really lucky, Boss Ice Creamy Latte.

Vending machine coffee in the summer is mostly cold. I have always enjoyed cold coffee anyway. In the winter, the machine changes and the can of coffee is hot. In the vending machine above, Coffee Boss Rainbow Blend is on a Price Down!

In Japan, there are far too many silly notices and signs in English; most have terrible grammar and bad spelling. Presumably these signs are mistranslated when they are put through Yahoo! BableFish. Google is surprisingly unpopular amongst the Japanese people. For news, emails, and searches, almost everyone here uses Yahoo! Here is an example of a bad sign:

I like umbrellas.

Yesterday I met a vegetarian couple. They decided before coming to Japan that being a vegetarian here would be ‘too difficult’, so they have chosen to eat meat while they are here. I don’t quite understand this logic. Admittedly, vegetarianism is somewhat uncommon here. I find that simply learning to explain that you don’t eat certain foods will get you by. I have even seen people with printouts in Japanese explaining their dietary requirements. There are ways, and there are also plenty of amazing vegetarian dishes here too.

I think I have mentioned it before, but the streets here are littered with cats. Here are some cats:

There are a lot of things I miss about England. Eating cheese. Crust on my sandwiches. Coleslaw. Sometimes I really wish I could sit playing the guitar for a few hours, but I don’t have a guitar here, maybe I can rent one. I also mentioned the stars before. Never visible. So strange. Maybe it is just because of the weather. When I finally see the stars I will probably write a huge post about it.

I went for a late-night walk in the ocean last night. The ocean here appears clear or blue, depending on the time of day. Sitting on the beach at midnight with a few beers, followed by a walk in the warm ocean — even at midnight, the air here stays warm. Even during heavy rain, the air remains warm. I’m uncertain about the winter; time will tell.

Here is the ocean in the day time. Very blue:

Walking around at night with a beer and not breaking the law is also amazing. Convenience stores are everywhere, so if you cant find any nightlife, you can buy a beer from Seven Eleven, finish it by the time you get to Family Mart, buy a beer, finish it by the time you get to Lawson Stores, et cætera. Basically if you walked to every 24-hour convenience store in one area buying one beer at a time, you would get nicely drunk. I count eight stores within ten minute walking distance from my hostel.

I enjoy the lampposts and traffic lights playing happy tunes. I like being in Japan and being from England. When most Japanese people ask me where I am from, their attitude changes when I say England. It is as though I have uttered some code word that makes people more friendly. “Ah, from England! You know Sherlock Holmes?” The other night a Japanese salaryman bought me a drink in a bar, he said it was because he, “Likes England so much.”

Random things are placed on the streets here. This is inside Beppu shopping arcade. Spot the Carnival Cutouts:

There are things I don’t like. I dislike being tall. The number of times I’ve smashed my head into the top of a doorframe surprises me; I’m amazed I haven’t suffered a mild traumatic brain injury. Although, maybe I will ten years from now. I often forget the occasional English word. Whilst talking to someone, I might suddenly draw a blank on a word I should know. It’s like there’s a void in my head where the word used to reside. At other times, I unconsciously substitute a Japanese word for an English one without even realising.

I hate inconsideration, but who doesn’t. I am in a four bedroom dormitory room trying to sleep. Someone comes in, sits down on his bed and starts to eat from a bento box (a lunchbox style Japanese meal; commonly with sections for rice, pickled or cooked vegetables, and a type of meat or fish). He is eating chicken, but I don’t eat chicken. Now, my room smells of chicken, and amidst this olfactory assault, all I can hear is him chomping loudly on his food. The hostel has a dining area and a lounge area, so please refrain from eating chicken in the dormitory room. Additionally, some people insist on loudly packing their suitcase for about an hour at 7 o’clock in the morning. It shouldn’t take that long and can be done the night before.

I went to the supermarket to photograph a bento box, but they had completely sold out. So instead, here is a photograph of some strawberry and cream sandwiches:

Anyway, I have a bus to catch. Next stop: Fukuoka.

Twelve Hundred Monkeys

Posted on 07/07/2014 by Luke

Super Typhoon Neoguri is planning to slam into Kyushu in two days time. Bringing with it rain, wind, high tides, and destruction. Looking at the predicted trajectory, the eye of the storm is where I was yesterday, Nishioita Station. All of last night I was woken up by heavy thunder and flashes of lightning all around me. Since 4 p.m. yesterday afternoon it hasn’t stopped raining. Water on the pavement outside pours downhill toward the ocean. Typhoon ‘Wild Raccoon’ is coming.

On a much lighter note, I spend about half an hour drying my shoes with a hairdryer; before heading to the station. My shoes are still soaking wet. What a waste of time. At Beppu Station the rain suddenly stops and a little bit of sun comes out. I decide that I should probably go to the Monkey Park and Forest Therapy Road, while I still have the chance.

As I wait for my bus a 68-year-old Japanese woman approaches me and asks me the usual questions. “Where are you from?” “What is your age?” “Do you know Elizabeth, the Queen?” She is quite polite about it, however, and I am somewhat relieved when my bus finally arrives. The 68-year-old woman thanks me for that chat, and apologises for bothering me. I reply with my favourite Japanese phrase, “Tondemo gozaimasen.” It is a super polite expression meaning ‘no problem’. She is surprised to hear me say it.

The entrance to Mount Takasaki Monkey Land National Park is at the bottom of a mountain. The mountain is 628 metres high, and the monkeys are about halfway up. I pay my ¥510 entrance fee and begin to walk the rather easy path. There was an option to pay to take a small train to the top, but I would rather walk, immersing myself in the atmosphere of the woods.

I get to some stairs and there are wild monkeys wandering around all over the place. A sign tells me, “If you look into their eyes, they will perceive this as a threat and they will attack.” Not looking into their eyes is actually harder than you might think. At the Monkey Park there are Japanese monkeys everywhere. Just over 1,200 monkeys, to be almost exact. They wander around by my feet, pretending not to notice me, or just not caring about me being here.

There is a staff member speaking Japanese on a microphone. Randomly all of the monkeys in every direction scream, this occurs maybe every minute or so. The sound is deafening. It turns out I have arrived just before feeding time, and the monkeys are screaming because they know this and want their food.

A crate of food is brought out and the screams get even more intense. From every direction monkeys run toward the food. The member of staff takes the makeshift wheelbarrow carrying the crate of food, and runs away from all the monkeys. They chase him, jumping into the crate to grab food before jumping out again, satisfied.

The monkeys find their own little private spots to enjoy their food. One sits down right next to my foot and munches on a miscellaneous vegetable; another monkey swings back and forth on a swing. I wander around taking photographs of monkeys before heading back down the mountain. I was hoping to go to Forest Therapy Road, but it turns out that the path up the mountain was the magical healing forest.

The next bus to Beppu is in forty-five minutes time. Not as lucky with the bus as I was yesterday. Through the mask of clouds in the distance I can make out Beppu Tower. It doesn’t look too far away so I begin to walk. Some 4.3 kilometres later and I arrive at the supermarket near my hostel. Inside, I head to a restaurant and have a delicious lunch of raw tuna and fried salmon on a stick.

Back at the hostel I watch the television show that aired on Fuji TV on Saturday, Moshimo Tours. I am on screen during the very opening scene of the show. I also appear in the background at the very end. I was going to share the link but it has already been removed from YouTube. Instead, here is another poor quality photograph of my computer monitor. I promise the next photograph will be better.

After watching the show, I take a bicycle and travel for a few hours with no real destination. It suddenly becomes really foggy in Beppu. I start to head back to the hostel, just as the first few drops of rain begin to fall. I grab a snack (a cake) from Seven Eleven and retire to the hostel computer to research typhoons.

Reid Wiseman is an American astronaut living on the International Space Station. He took this photograph of Typhoon Neoguri. In a few hours it will hit the tiny island of Okinawa. Then a day after that it will come to Kyushu, the island I am on. If its course stays the same, it will pass directly through Beppu.

After a discussion with some of the locals, I’m undecided on whether to stay here in Beppu or take the train further north. Beppu has mountains behind it, which might act as a shield against the onslaught of wind. The exact path of the typhoon can easily change. Considering its size, most of Japan is likely to face the worst of it anyway, so attempting to escape it might have the opposite effect.

I think about the people in Okinawa. I also think about the monkeys on Mount Takasaki. Probably two of the worst places you can be during a Super Typhoon; on a tiny island, and halfway up a mountain.

The Train Station at the End of the Universe

Posted on 06/07/2014 by Luke

Today I am going to an aquarium. As I walk to the train station the lampposts are playing the Beatles, ‘You Never Give Me Your Money’. Lampposts in Japan often play random music, usually relaxing classical pieces, but today is Sunday so I suppose that explains it. At the train station I get on a train bound for Oita.

It turns out I am on the wrong train. I don’t realise until it passes the first stop. I check my instructions. Bus. It clearly says to take the bus bound for Oita, not the train. The mistake costs me ¥230 each way. Trains by habit. Bus to habitat. I get off at the second stop, Nishioita Station. Here, there is a solitary ticket gate manned by a solitary person.

I exit the station so it doesn’t look like I got on the wrong train, not that anybody is watching. Outside the station I see a sign for the ferry terminal and think about escaping. I decide to make the most of my error and take a stroll around Nishioita. There isn’t much here. They have a Lawson Stores, that is it. A road sign says that Umitamago Aquarium is 5 kilometres away.

A sign at the ocean says, “Welcom.” I take a stroll to the pier. It is a nice view, maybe Nishioita is not as bleak as I first thought. Two lighthouses guard the pier, one red, one white. There isn’t really much else here though. I sit for a while drinking my Pocari Sweat, enjoying the sounds of birdsong and the shimmer of the ocean, before turning around and heading back to the station.

Back inside the station and taking a seat, I see there is a bin for plastic bottles but there are no vending machines. Maybe people come to Nishioita to dispose of their rubbish. I wait but no train shows up. Behind me the tracks lead to Oita. In front of where I am sitting, the trains head back in the direction of Beppu.

I watch two massive fork lift trucks move crates around. They don’t look to be moving them with any purpose; it seems they are just tidying up the stacks. There is an announcement through the speakers about standing near the tracks. Seconds later a limited express train whizzes by before disappearing in the direction of Oita. They don’t stop here, at the Train Station at the End of the Universe.

The surrounding area is somewhat pretty I suppose. Tranquil. There are many bushes of purple flowers, full bloom. Cicadas drone on in the background. I gaze into the mountains. They gaze back. Another announcement and an express train passes in front of me in the direction of Beppu. Fifteen minutes pass me by. Although I expect time passes differently here. It feels like I’ve been here for days.

An old woman enters the platform and sits down next to me. There are four unoccupied seats to the left of me, yet she chooses to sit beside me. I think to myself that the old woman being here suggests that a train will be here soon too. Nope. I wait a further fifteen minutes as a rapid train whizzes by. The woman sneezes. The fork lift trucks beep as they reverse disturbing the serenity. Perturbing my sanity.

I start to wonder, maybe the old woman isn’t here for the train. Maybe she is here for the flowers and the mountains and the fork lift trucks. The joke is on me. Maybe she knows that the next train isn’t for another two years. A young man with glasses enters the station. He stands facing the tracks that lead away from Beppu. He lights up a cigarette and smokes it in one go. He lights up another.

I get excited when I hear an announcement about a train, but my excitement is short lived. The train to Oita stops and the man gets on. Nobody gets off. The doors to the train linger open for a tempting few seconds longer than they should. I hesitate for too long and the train is gone. I somehow feel I have wasted my morning as the train to Beppu finally arrives. The woman remains seated. I get on the train. As it departs, it squeaks and splutters like an old animal waiting to die.

Back at Beppu Station I change from train to a bus. I take the bus bound for Oita and get off at Umitamago Aquarium. The bus stops right outside. Across the road from the aquarium are two other attractions. There is a Monkey Park and a place called, ‘Forest Therapy Road’. The sign outside the forest claims to, “Help you stay healthy mentally and physically and prevent disease while immersing yourself in the atmosphere of the woods.”

At the aquarium, I pay the steep entry fee, ¥1950. I am handed my ticket and a nice brochure that says, “The friendly aquarium welcomes you!” At least they can spell ‘welcome’. Inside, the aquarium is massive. Animals living here include seals, otters, dolphins, penguins, sharks, sea lions, frogs, sea turtles, walruses, and various fish.

After spending far too long looking at dolphins, it is time to leave and get some food. I consider checking out the forest but the once-every-hour bus literally pulls up as I cross the road and it has just started to rain. I might come back here to check out the Monkey Park and forest when the weather is nicer.

I eat back at the hostel and relax for an hour or so before heading to Nagahama Shrine Summer Festival. This is the very first summer festival held in Oita Prefecture every year. It is famous for rice cakes and merchants selling hand made dolls, pictures, and other unique works.

At Nagahama Shrine Summer Festival, summer is probably the wrong word to have used. The rain is heavy in Oita. There are market stalls selling various foods spread all along the side of the road, however, the road isn’t closed. I walk through the streets avoiding cars and following my ears. I find the main ceremony in full swing; around fifty people dressed in purple clothing carrying portable shrines. People bang drums and play flutes. Spirit levels are quite high, in spite of the weather.

After following the procession for a good twenty minutes, I find that I am soaking wet. I decide that I’ve seen enough and head back to Beppu. I take the limited express train. As it whizzes past Nishioita Station, I peer out of the window half expecting to see the old woman still sitting there. No surprises really, but the station is completely empty.

Global Tower, Beppu Park, Crocodile Hell

Posted on 02/07/2014 by Luke

After a few days of relaxing and enjoying the views, I decide it’s about time I head out and see the sights. A sign in my hostel reads, “Like us on Facebook! You get 1 free boiled egg.” I instantly like them on Facebook. I write for a few hours then hire a bike from the hostel. ¥1000 deposit, returned to me when I return the bike. Not bad, a free bike.

I cycle around the narrow streets. Mostly empty with the exception of the odd car. I pass a shop selling face masks of Manchester United players and former Manchester United manager, Sir Alex Ferguson. As I cycle uphill I see a tower in the distance. It feels like I am cycling up a mountain. I suppose that I am. I park my bicycle at Global Tower. Here, I pay ¥300 to ride the elevator 100 metres to the top. Global Tower is the symbol for one of the largest most advanced conference facilities in Western Japan.

I take my first few steps out of the lift and onto the upper observation deck. I instinctively know that there is nothing below me. The platform hangs in mid-air. It takes me a while to find my feet; before I enjoy a lovely 360 degree panoramic view of Beppu and the ocean beyond. Very nice. I then start down a staircase encased with glass. The staircase literally floats in the sky between the upper and lower observation decks. It takes me a while to find my feet.

After leaving Global Tower, I cycle downhill in the direction of Beppu Park. My one speed bicycle gathers momentum, and I begin to overtake cars. I slow down and my brakes shriek. The loudest brakes I have ever heard. All around me in the distance I hear dogs barking at the sound of my shrieking brakes. I pass a random golf course made entirely from concrete, before arriving at Beppu Park.

The park has no entry fee, but I think it deservedly should. I cycle around the park. There are not many people here so I do a few laps and take in the lush greenery, the surrounding scenery, and the shelter of a bamboo forest. I leave the park and head further downhill toward the ocean where I stop off at a giant supermarket. Japanese supermarkets are amazing. They have a huge selection of ready to eat food in plastic trays, but it’s all fresh, mostly healthy, and mostly delicious. I spend an hour wandering the infinite aisles before settling on today’s lunch.

My lunch is amberjack sashimi, some shrimp cutlet with tartare sauce, and two side salads. I also find some cheese that for once isn’t in the shape of a Mushi Cake. Real cheese is scarce in Japan, so this is a big deal for me. With my meal I also drink a bottle containing seventeen different types of vegetable and three different types of fruit. Sounds quite healthy but tastes of disappointment.

Last night I took advantage of the free Nintendo Wii in the hostel and played Mario Kart with Ed, a guy from London. At the hostel, he asks me what I’m doing today. I tell him I don’t really fancy taking a bus anywhere (most tourist attractions here are accessed by bus), and that I’ve already hired a bicycle. We look at a map, Ed hires a bike, and we set off, uphill, in the direction of Kannawa. After about fifteen minutes we stop off for a ‘Cooling Break’ outside some netted complex that turns out to be a driving range.

Inside the driving range, we somehow communicate with a non-English speaking man at reception before receiving two clubs and ball tokens. I insert the token into the machine, expecting just a few balls, but at least 250 pour out—I wasn’t expecting this many. Taking our places on the driving range, we each have an auto tee-up machine, a little robotic arm that places a new golf ball onto the tee for us. We spend an hour hitting golf balls in the direction of a net. Beyond the net, all we can see is the ocean.

It’s approaching 2 p.m. and the sun is blazing. I asked yesterday if it ever rains here. The hostel manager told me that the day before I arrived they had just had two weeks of rain. Me and my good timing. Back on track and heading to Kannawa. After what seems like hours of more uphill cycling, we arrive at Kannawa Hyotan Onsen. Hot spring baths are everywhere in Beppu. Plumes of white smoke rise up in almost every direction. Even the cold water here comes out of the tap hot. We use the free outdoor foot onsen at the entrance and relax for a while before heading even further uphill.

We arrive in an area called “The Hells.” Eight connected outdoor springs each with their own theme. We pay ¥400 each and enter one of ‘The Hells’. Oniyama Jigoku, or Crocodile Hell. A sign inside says: “The force of the steam is so strong here that about one and a half train cars can be pulled by its pressure, and it creates ideal conditions for breeding crocodiles.” The sign is next to a really hot stream of spring water. The temperature, the sign says, is 99°C.

When the spring water cools in the winter, they put the crocodiles inside to breed. We wander around. The crocodiles are quite scary and there are lots of them. We stare at crocodiles for a long while. They do not move. They do not even blink. Playing dead a specialty of theirs. We find some enclosures with water and a few crocodiles swimming around. There is one giant crocodile that wants to eat Ed. At 5 p.m. Crocodile Hell closes, and a woman kindly asks us to leave.

Outside, the conversation turns to sushi, and we get on our bikes and head back to the hostel. The cycling is all downhill now. My favourite part. On our way we pass Beppu Port. A huge cruise ship waits at one of the terminals. A bright red lighthouse waits in the distance. Back at the hostel, still no sign of my free boiled egg, we ask for directions to the ¥100 sushi restaurant. It turns out that it’s inside the same shopping complex as the supermarket I had visited earlier today.

At the restaurant, nearly all of the sushi is ¥100. We order our food on a computer screen, it is then made in the kitchen before arriving to us on a train. We order plate after plate of sushi. It’s actually surprisingly fresh. Ed orders a beer, I order a Suntory whisky highball, and we get through eleven plates of raw fish on rice between us. The cost is about ¥1100 each.

After sushi we head back to the hostel and watch the news. Japanese Prime Minister Shinzo Abe has revised Article 9. Four of us have a long discussion about the changes to the Constitution of Japan. It is massive news here and I’m hardly surprised. People have been protesting in the streets; on Sunday a man in Shinjuku made a statement by setting himself on fire. War, what is it good for? Abe-solutely nothing.

After we finish our discussion, three of us head out with a couple of beers and have a little wander around Beppu at night. Also, I took this photograph of a dragonfly that I quite liked:

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