Virtual Insanity

Posted on 23/12/2022 by Luke

Today I’m still in Huis Ten Bosch, at a place called Fantasia City of Lights. The sign here says that this otherworldly experience features the latest and greatest in digital sound technology. Once again, and a pattern I’ve found within this theme park, is that this City of Lights has absolutely nothing to do with the Netherlands.

My first stop today is Flower Fantasia, a soothing space with the theme of a secret laboratory that makes flowers from lights. The laboratory is the first thing I see when I enter so isn’t that much of a secret. Holographic flowers shimmer with iridescence as they dance around in vials, test tubes, and flasks. A screen on the opposite wall projects visuals of mathematical equations and flowers, it doesn’t really make any sense.

The next section is where I can discover fragrances of lavenders, chamomiles, geraniums, calendulas, and roses. A sign instructs me to gently open the Petri dishes to uncover a digital flower. The fragrances, however, don’t come close to infiltrating my mask. There’s a pathway of blooming flowers that follow my footsteps and decorate the floor below, and some interactive artwork on a wall where flowers blossom before my eyes.

I leave the blooming flowers and head towards the next exhibit. Aquarium Fantasia is a thrilling space to experience the colourful world of the deep sea. A lady dressed in a traditional Dutch klederdracht tells me to, “Please Enjoy!” The first thing on show here is a digital aquarium. The fish in the many tanks have been replaced by holographic images; at least in this aquarium, it’s impossible to forget to feed the fish.

There’s rather a lot of information in the next few sections, facts about the ocean, about it being the origin of all lifeforms. “Even when recreated and enhanced digitally, this underwater world hints at possibilities for vitality.” I pass through a huge shark tunnel, an ‘underwater’ tunnel that passes through the aquarium. Digitally enhanced sharks swim around. A sign at the other end asks me to deliberate the fact that the ocean is an ephemeral world that can’t last forever. I contemplate that one day this may not be an aquarium, but instead a digital museum for absent oceans and forgotten aquatic habitats.

In the next room there is a hands-on interactive activity, and I instantly forget about the fleeting impermanence of the ocean. The instructions are very simple. “How to play: Stir the fluids to create a jellyfish.”

I can swipe my fingers around on the walls and what looks like paint mixes together and eventually creates a jellyfish. Each time I try the activity, a jellyfish of variable size and colour is formed, before gliding away into the mystical underwater world, where its body dissolves back into the currents of time.

After enjoying the fluidity of this transient expression of art for far too long, I move onto the next interactive exhibition, and my favourite of the day. The instructions are once again short and easy to follow. “How to play: Become a fish.”

As I enter a dimly lit room, my silhouette is cast onto the wall. I become a fish, without much effort at all. Fish swim around on the floor and walls, I can step on their shadows and watch them swim away, or move my head to chase off the ones that swim on the walls. Every three minutes a large shoal of colourful sardines travels around the entire room, illuminating the area in a swirling digital aquarelle of glistening fish.

As the shoal of fish weave together like an underwater miracle, they come together to form the shape of one giant fish. This is when the exhibition takes a somewhat dark turn. Where once was a kaleidoscopic multitude of multicoloured sardines, now becomes a sinister black shark that chases me around the room.

After being devoured by the shark, I move onward through the aquarium. There are reminders here that all life originated from the ocean. How life and the ocean have coexisted through time. Once sign asks, “What is life? What does it mean to exist?” Questions that are teased but left unanswered. A section on technology, about how the lines between real and virtual begin to blur as the actual world adapts to real-life qualities. “How will we go on to define our existence?”

The final section opens up into a large theatre. As I take my seat alongside the darkness, I contemplate my own reality, before reminding myself that I am sitting in a virtual aquarium, inside a slightly Dutch theme park, in Nagasaki, Japan.

After a while, a short film about the unexplored deeper reaches of the ocean begins. The deeper we dive, the more sunlight is absorbed. The last to dissipate is blue light, which gives the underwater world its colour. This film explores what the bottom of the ocean could look like, if only we were able to see it. The film simulates forward motion, as though I am swimming under the sea. The large surround sound system bellows out noises of the ocean. There’s some weird crystal thing that comes to life, some flowery patterns give birth to various new lifeforms that become tangled and interwoven like the fabric of a false euphoria, and the entire film suddenly becomes a psychedelic three-dimensional underwater nightmare.

My third and final stop in Fantasia City of Lights is the one I am most anticipating, Space Fantasia. Our solar system and planetary information is displayed on a giant screen for a while. Next, a show titled ‘2101: Galaxy Odyssey’ starts, and what claims to be a self aware artificial intelligence guides us into the next room.

There is some sort of stage and we are asked to volunteer to play a game. Only two of the ten here raise their hands. We then have to wait and watch whilst they struggle to complete the challenge. I glance at my flyer, it states that the duration of this wacky space adventure is twenty-five minutes in length, and specifically states that, “You can’t leave halfway.”

Stars form on the ground to form constellations, and the lines where astrology and astronomy meet begin to blur, as the only constellations relevant to this game are not Cassiopeia, Orion, or Ursa Major, but are the twelve of the zodiac. As the two volunteers jump around, every time they match stars to form a constellation, everyone applauds. They score seven out of twelve. “Superb!” someone shouts.

We then move onto the third and final room, another theatre.

We fly through space and learn about various clouds of dust and gas. The Butterfly Nebula appears on the screen, turns into a butterfly, then flies away. The Swan Nebula appears on screen, turns into a swan, then flies away. The Bubble Nebula appears on screen, and I see where this is going. After the bubble floats away we sit through a firework display in space, some Galactic Cherry Blossoms, the Engraved Hour Glass Nebula, before finally returning to Earth.

Walking in a Weird Wonderland

Posted on 21/12/2022 by Luke

Today I’m at Huis Ten Bosch, Nagasaki Prefecture. This Netherlands themed park features life-size replicas of Dutch architecture. Opened in March 1992, this crazy theme park of 152 hectares makes it the biggest in Japan. It initially cost 3 billion dollars to build. It appears the original owners were a little wasteful with their money, especially when a solid 18-karat gold hot tub was purchased for a little over 7 million dollars; the largest solid gold hot tub in the world. The price to take a soak in the solid gold bath was just twenty dollars an hour, and taking into account the opening times of the theme park, by my calculation it would take 95 years of constant use to recoup the initial cost. This probably goes somewhere to explain why Huis Ten Bosch went bankrupt in 2003.

Regardless, the park is open again now under new ownership. I cross a rather long bridge leading into the park, the lampposts here are playing Christmas songs, It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year. At the entrance I pay my ¥7000 entrance fee, and make note of a sign saying no dogs allowed.

Huis Ten Bosch translates to mean House in the Woods and it even has its own Wikipedia page. I take out my map and instantly search for Thriller City, an area of the park I’ve previously read about and am excited to see, however, my map makes no mention of this terrifying zone, which was based on a Michael Jackson music video; it appears Thriller City has been removed and replaced by Fantasia City of Lights.

There is a second attraction I had wanted to see, the first 3-storey carousel in the world. The Huis Ten Bosch website stated that the Sky Carousel will be ready from November 11th, so I head over to Attraction Town section D-6 only to find that it’s still under construction, and by the looks of it, it won’t even be ready in time for Christmas; the labourers here still working on the first of its many storeys.

With all the things I had planned to see today not available, I decide to freely explore the park with no direction or cause. I pass gondolas floating down the many canals. Statues of Santa Claus and Christmas songs around every corner. On Van Gogh Street, a live band dressed as Christmas elves perform cover versions of the music of Elvis Presley.

Over on Rembrandt Street, I find a marble mask that turns out to be a replica of the La Bocca della Verità, and that for ¥100 can give me a palm reading. Well as they say, when in Rome, but I’m not, and everything here so far has nothing to do with the Netherlands. The part of the statue that reads my palm is quite small, and I struggle to fit my whole hand on the screen. My reading tells me that I need to be less sardonic, and some other nonsense.

I continue to wander the park, passing a replica of Stadhuis, a building that might be a Dutch word meaning ‘City Hall’ but the building replicated here is actually found in Bruges, Belgium. I have to show my entrance ticket to enter Harbour Town, and again to enter Huis Ten Bosch Palace; it makes me wonder how these people think I even entered the park in the first place.

Huis Ten Bosch Palace is a replica of a palace with the same name, and I am relieved to find out is originally located in the Netherlands. I am told that it is a faithful recreation and I learn that even the bricks the Japanese used to create this building were flown in from Europe. After twice showing my ticket again to leave, I head over to yet another Dutch replica, Domtoren, a 105-metre tall tower with an observation deck.

As I continue to explore, I find even more things in this park that have absolutely nothing to do with Huis Ten Bosch, the whole place appears to be a mismatch of conflicting ideas. There is Jurassic Island, an augmented reality game but it isn’t included in the ticket price. There is a whole area dedicated to virtual reality. Horse Land. A shooting range with a fifty minute wait time. There is a chocolate mansion. A 300-metre long zipwire. There is even a trick-art museum.

I check my map and find an attraction in Adventure Park called The Maze. The caption reads, “The biggest in the world! A huge maze inside a five-storey tree house.” The maze has a ninety kilogramme weight limit and a sign informs me that I can’t enter if I’ve been drinking. It doesn’t specify what I can’t have been drinking, I presume they mean alcohol, however, chance would be such a fine thing, as alcoholic beverages are impossible to find in this park.

The maze is rather easy and I think it’s mostly for children. I have to duck down beneath low hanging wooden beams and climb up narrow ladders and stairways. I somehow doubt the claim that it’s the largest maze in the world though, and after ten minutes of climbing up and down I reach the exit, a tunnel slide that goes from the fifth floor to the ground. Despite being reasonably below the weight limit, I can’t fit in the slide, so instead I have to follow signs for the ‘Surrendering Exit’ as there are no other ways for me to leave, thus meaning I have failed to complete the maze.

I wander a little more, exploring Fantasia City of Lights, but I’m saving that for a separate post. I consider riding the Ferris wheel, but there’s an extra charge so I decide not to bother. I pass small stalls selling cheeses and wines, decorated in fairly lights and miniature Christmas trees. I even find the most bizarre attraction of them all, a 24-hour coin laundry, in a theme park that closes at nine o’clock.

As it begins to get cold, I go to leave the park passing flowers and windmills; even the windmills here are playing Christmas songs. The route directs me into Schiphol Airport Terminal Gift Shop, I don’t buy anything. The very last shop before the exit is called ‘DogBox’ and is a dog grooming salon.

Lucky Number Seven Gods of Fortune

Posted on 05/01/2015 by Luke

Today, I attempt to go on a pilgrimage. Seven different gods, seven different temples, and no idea where to start. I head into Asakusa for a traditional Japanese breakfast and find that a Japanese New Year’s ritual is taking place outside my favourite izakaya. “Happy Merry Christmas after year,” the owner says to me, flashing his trademark ten-yen smile.

The ritual is mochi making. Mochi is sticky rice that is boiled, and when it is hit with a wooden mallet, it becomes soft. These rice cakes end up more like dumplings and are consumed during January. Some sort of stew is cooking in a big pot beside the mochi, but I have no idea if it’s relevant to the ritual or not.

After watching a man hit rice with a mallet for far too long, I decide to visit the first temple: Shingen-ji Temple in Iriya. This temple has two names; ‘Iriya no Kishibojin’ is the other name used, which just adds to my confusion. Inside the temple, I can hear the sound of monks chanting. Two young Japanese women dressed in kimonos pose for photographs. I wander to the temple, throw in some loose change, and pray.

The temple not only houses one of the seven gods but also Kishimojin, a goddess of children. Her story goes that she was once an evil goddess, snatching children and then eating them. One day, Gautama Buddha kidnapped the youngest son of this goddess, and it was only after experiencing the sorrow of losing a child that she became good. Now, she is worshipped as the guardian of childbirth and child-growing. However, she remains a criminal in my mind; all the children that she previously devoured have somehow been forgotten with her forgiveness.

Next to the temple sits Fukurokuju, the god of happiness, wealth, and longevity—the first of the seven gods that I am here to visit on this pilgrimage.

My second stop is Eishinji Temple, which enshrines Daikokuten, another of the seven gods of fortune. Daikokuten is considered to bring the belief of commercial prosperity. At the entrance, children play with spinning tops and badminton rackets. This temple gives me the opportunity to get my fortune for ¥200, and with me currently on a roll of good fortune from these things, I decide to participate once again.

The fortune I receive is huge. It contains three separate pieces of paper and one golden plastic frog.

“Average luck: Leading to the road of happiness will bless you if you have your own eyes open to the gods. Keeping the person in harm dear in my heart, will ensure that no harm is done, and the world will fit into the flame. With love, be aggressive. Take time to contemplate. The person you are waiting for will come, but will be very late. Don’t be impatient with your law suit. Contemplate. The lost article will be found and returned by someone with kindness. Be honest with money. If you are planning a trip, wait.”

As for the little golden frog, it should be placed in my wallet to ensure that money always comes back. There is also a mention of rakes and ovals, but I can’t understand what this means. Additionally, the fortune tells of magical eggplants, but again, I have no idea. “This lucky charm grants wishes and brings happiness. Please keep it always in your purse.”

At the temple exit, I study the slightly confusing map and head to temple number three.

Following the map, I end up at Onoterusaki Shrine. Although this shrine doesn’t house one of the seven lucky gods, I continue to explore it regardless. A monk on a balcony is hitting drums in a timely rhythm, and something about its calmness draws me inside. The shrine features a man-made imitation in the image of Mount Fuji.

Apparently, many Japanese people once believed that there was a god that lived inside the mountain; therefore, Mount Fuji became a place of worship for many religious groups. This particular Mount Fuji is called Fujizuka of Shitaya-Sakamoto and looks like a big pile of rocks. On July 1st every year, to celebrate the start of the climbing season of the actual Mount Fuji, this miniature mountain is open for the public to climb.

Onoterusaki Shrine is also dedicated to Ono-no-Takamura, a scholar of Chinese classics in the early years of the Heian period.

Scattered around the shrine are these unusual white arrows. I discover that these arrows are known as hamaya. The name is derived from a once dangerously popular game for children involving archery and target practice. Nowadays, these arrows, which translate to mean ‘Demon-breaking arrows,’ are a popular means to dispel evil spirits at the beginning of the New Year.

I leave the shrine and go in search of the third of the seven temples on the pilgrimage course. Temples with multiple names, maps that have no sense of scale, and a cold day of wandering around unfamiliar places. I end up in Uguisudani, an area that should contain one of the seven gods, but for me, the only things in and around the train station are love hotels.

I’ve been walking a lot this last week. Tired and slightly cold, I give up for the day. I head back to Minowa to rest my legs and tumble into a deep sleep.

Abandoned by Disney

Posted on 01/01/2015 by Luke

The sun shines brightly as Christine and I make our way to Tokyo Disneyland, a 115-acre theme park located in Urayasu, Chiba Prefecture. It’s said to be a place where dreams come true, according to a somewhat poorly written but curiously popular guidebook. This guidebook suggests that the optimal time to visit Tokyo Disneyland is during the winter months, particularly toward the end of December. Today happens to fall within that timeframe, so off we go.

We change trains from the Yamanote Line at Tokyo Station to the hugely unpopular JR Keiyo Line. The Keiyo Line requires us to walk for twenty minutes through a busy train station and is highly inconvenient. Finally, after almost an hour on three trains, we arrive at the conveniently named Tokyo Disneyland Station. On the train, the windows and handles are shaped like Mickey Mouse.

Outside Tokyo Disneyland, what would usually cost ¥100 now costs over twice that. An early sign of the commercialism to come.

Full of overpriced green tea and a pocket full of change, we queue to enter the park at around 9 a.m. Eventually, after twenty minutes in the queue, we pay ¥6400 each and enter.

We head for Critter Country to use our Fast Track ticket for Splash Mountain. Despite being here so early in the morning, our Fast Track ticket won’t allow us to ride this ‘Hair-raising flume adventure’ until quarter to six. A mere nine-hour wait. We can’t use another Fast Track ticket for two hours, so we decide to grab some breakfast.

It turns out that the only food on offer at Tokyo Disneyland is junk food and sugar. I buy a ¥310 strawberry sundae – the smallest ice cream in the world. In the bottom of the cup are Corn Flakes; something I’ve never associated with ice cream before, and something that I will never eat with ice cream again.

After breakfast, we decide to go on a ride. We head over to Fantasyland to queue for “It’s a Small World Presented by Nippon Express Co., Ltd.” I write the name of the ride with capitalisation, but in the park, they don’t bother; and this annoys me. We queue for forty minutes, and with me not knowing Disney too well, I have no idea what to expect.

In the queue, I try to discuss the Pinocchio paradox, but Christine, who had previously worked in Disneyland Florida, tells me to, “Stop talking! Stop ruining Disney.”

Finally, we enter the ride and sit in a boat. Instructions in the boat say, “The boat may stop suddenly, so please sit well back.” I don’t really have a choice thanks to the length of my legs. The ride describes itself as the “Happiest cruise that ever sailed,” so presumably, it is well good.

The overall experience is terrible; a riverboat cruise of rooms depicting dancing characters from various countries. In each room, the characters are singing the same song, Jingle Bells. At the end of the ride, we have to join a queue of boats to leave. If I am completely honest, after being on my feet for most of the morning, it is just nice to have a sit down.

Leaving the ride, a politically correct ‘happy holidays’ sign is also written in lower case, just to further add to my disappointment. Christine seems happy though; she was singing along during the ride. Afterwards, she waves at the other people queueing, and they wave back.

We accidentally stroll into a gift shop and find a crystal castle that costs an arbitrary ¥5,142,860.

After “It’s a Small World,” we discover that it’s a small park. It actually takes us just ten minutes to walk the entire length of Tokyo Disneyland, despite having to push through the ever-increasing crowds of people.

We check out Thunder Mountain, but it seems there is a 300-minute queue for the ride. We wander around at a loss as more people appear from nowhere, the park now becoming extremely busy. Our second ‘attraction’ comes almost three hours since we arrived and is quite possibly the least popular attraction in Tokyo Disneyland, and perhaps the world.

We wander into a tipi with almost impeccable timing and take a seat on some padded benches around a stage.

The ‘ride’ is the oddly named “The Enchanted Tiki Room: Stitch Presents, Aloha E Komo Mai!” Presented by Mizuho Securities Co., Ltd. The attraction describes itself as a fun-filled tropical music show.

Just like the photograph I took of the show before being told off for taking photographs, the whole thing was a disappointment. A few birds talking and singing in Japanese, a few flowers singing too. Just nothing that even offered the least bit of entertainment or anything that could be described as fun-filled or remotely tropical.

Outside, the queues have grown astronomically.

With two hours now elapsed since we first used our Fast Track tickets, we head to some of the other participating rides. We discover that all of the Fast Track tickets have now been issued, so only one Fast Track ride for us today. We spend some time queueing for toilets, queueing for vending machines, queueing for queues.

One thing we find scattered around the park are popcorn stands; eleven in total. They sell flavors such as caramel, soy sauce and butter, honey, and curry. Each stand appears to have an hour-long queue. Lucky for me, my friend is also from England, so we do what English people do best and moan about everything, together.

We head back to Adventureland to queue for the Western River Railroad Presented by TOMY Company, Ltd. “Three hours,” the woman tells us, remarking on the queue times. We brave it anyway. I came all this way, and certainly don’t wish to pass up on an opportunity to climb aboard a real steam train for a trip around the wilderness.

Once forever passes and time no longer exists, we eventually get on the ride. It is one of those annoying rides that hates tall people. The train passes through caverns and low-hanging beams of wood. Despite being in the safe, happy environment of Tokyo Disneyland, I can’t help but get the feeling I will hit my head. I end up ducking under every tunnel and beam.

After one minute of satisfaction and three hours in a queue, we leave the ride, bumping into Donald Duck. Close to one hundred people are waiting to take their photograph with what is basically a man in a duck costume. Ridiculous.

One of my biggest gripes with Tokyo Disneyland is the lack of shops selling vegetarian food, healthy options, and alcohol. Despite wandering to almost every restaurant, it is practically all junk. Eventually, we settle for food at Tomorrowland Terrace Presented by Coca-Cola (Japan) Company, Ltd.

I order French fries, corn soup, and a salad, an overpriced ¥730. The salad has little jellied carrots in the shape of Mickey Mouse. I squeeze the packet of soy dressing, aiming for my salad, but the packet bursts and squirts my coat with sauce. Embarrassed and soaked, I go and wipe away my tears, and the dressing, before returning to my salad. Hidden beneath the Mickey Mouse carrots is bacon.

I can’t eat the salad due to dietary I hate Disney. Instead, I eat my lukewarm French fries with ketchup, dropping one on my leg to further add to my misery. The cup of French fries mocks me with the catchphrase, “Where dreams come true.” At least they remembered to capitalise; but at this moment, it does very little to appease my trauma. Meanwhile, Christine dines on her ¥1010 burger, fries, and a drink; she eats it smugly and without dropping a single crumb. I finish my soup and want to scream.

We head back outside for the Happiness Is Here Parade Presented by NTT DOCOMO, Inc.

“This is the happiest parade ever! Enjoy the fun and excitement of this parade with all of your favourite Disney characters!” Right now, I am unhappy. I am not enjoying myself, but I try to remain optimistic. We try to get a decent viewing spot on the parade route, but keep getting told off by the unfriendly staff for sitting on benches or loitering. Eventually, we find a place to watch our favourite characters as they dance along the route, riding a series of increasingly elaborate floats.

All of the usual suspects are here. Snow White, Lilo and Stitch, Toy Story, a massive elephant, two giant six-armed caterpillars, Alice, a bright orange Tigger, Mickey Mouse with his stupid face that I want to punch, and my favourite float, Disney’s NTT DOCOMO, Inc. Presumably from the new Disney movie about mobile communication services.

After the parade, nothing can get any more horrible. Perhaps this is the turning point of the day. We still have a few hours before we can queue jump Splash Mountain, so we contemplate killing ourselves, but instead, we decide to go on a ride to kill time.

We head back to Adventureland for the Pirates of the Caribbean ride Presented by Kirin Brewery. The jolly band of marauding Caribbean buccaneers is joined by Captain Jack Sparrow, or so I am told. We queue for ninety minutes before, for a second time today, sit on a riverboat ride. Pirates of the Caribbean describes itself as, “A thrilling adventure cruise through dark mysterious caverns where dead men tell no tales.”

Our boat is called Patience, which I like. Irony being the least American thing we’ve found today. The ride passes by a restaurant, and Christine and I miss the first section of the cruise, as we are too busy peering in to see if anyone in the restaurant is drinking alcohol. Just soft drinks with straws.

When we started queueing for the ride, it was daylight. As we exit, night has fallen, and the castle in the middle of the park is illuminated.

We pass people asleep on benches, including a guy sleeping with his whole face covered by a three-eyed Alien mask from Toy Story. In the toilets, two unhappy ‘cast members’ are directing people to cubicles and urinals. It is almost quarter to six, and it is nearly time to finally use our Fast Track tickets.

As we walk toward Critter Country, four fireworks are let off above the castle. Perhaps the worst firework display I have ever seen. A projection mapping show is taking place, so presumably, the budget has been spent on that instead.

We arrive at Splash Mountain (not sponsored). As we flash our Fast Track tickets, we get to walk along, passing people who are enduring the three-hour queue; the most satisfying feeling of the whole day. The ride claims to have, “The wettest drop ever!” It doesn’t. “No splash, Captain.” This is the third ride on a boat today and is the best one I’ve experienced.

The excitement on my face sums up the day nicely.

In just under two hours time, the final parade of the day is taking place. With two-hour queues for every ride, we risk it and head to Fantasyland for the Haunted Mansion (not sponsored). “Ride through an eerie Gothic mansion with 999 ghostly inhabitants.” While we wait for 110 minutes to ride the Haunted House, I teach Christine some basic Japanese, until she feels the need to repeat the same one phrase over and over. Not irritating in the slightest.

The Haunted Mansion turns out to be a Nightmare Before Christmas ride. It starts with two rooms where our group has to stand around. We listen to speeches from Jack Skellington. It turns out Jack Skellington is fluent in Japanese. Next, we take a seat in a chair shaped like a chocolate egg. This isn’t a roller coaster though, more of a tour through the animatronic world of the Nightmare Before Christmas.

After the ride, we head out into the crowded carnival that is the Tokyo Disneyland Electrical Parade, Dreamlights Presented by Nihon Unisys, Ltd. “Don’t miss this spectacular night-time parade when the Park comes alive with millions of dazzling lights to the magical tunes of Disney music.”

Sadly, we only catch the last three floats of the parade, including the one for Nihon Unisys, Ltd.

After the parade, the park begins to empty out. We decide to sit down for a time and dine on more sugar in the form of a strawberry-filled Mickey Mouse-shaped cake, which tastes frankly weird. As we head toward the exit, we find that the queues for the popcorn stands have completely vanished. I order a box of regular-sized ¥360 Orange Marmalade popcorn. The serving size is actually quite generous for something that costs about ¥10 to make.

We explore one of the many gift shops, stocked with needless rubbish for a high price. Despite being almost closing time, the gift shops are packed full of people, and Frozen merchandise has almost sold out. Not that I care. We eventually leave empty-handed. The noise of fourteen hours in Tokyo Disneyland, the constant flashing of lights, cartoon characters, and the overall brightness leaves me with only a headache.

As we endure the one-hour train ride back to Asakusa, I drift into dark Disney nightmares. If all of this was a bad dream, this day, and I woke up again this morning having never been to Tokyo Disneyland, I would certainly keep it that way.

At home, I feel tired and disjointed. I am angry and disappointed. I am certainly disgusted. Disney is a commercial success that exploits children and adults alike. Heavy sponsorship, overpriced snacks, no consideration for the queueing that people have to endure, a lack of drink vendors, no quality food, and a complete lack of alcohol. These things all add to the horror that is a trip to Tokyo Disneyland.

Ticket to (almost) Ride

Posted on 26/12/2014 by Luke

Today is Christmas Day. I wake up at 4 a.m. with a Christmas party hangover. It is too early to think, but I have things to do. Today, my friend Christine is arriving in Japan from England, and it is my job to act as a tour guide for the next few days. I walk to Nippori Station and arrive a little too early for my train. In order to kill time, I wander over the tracks to witness my second sunrise in Japan, the warm winter sun silhouetting Tokyo Skytree. My photograph is ruined by a smudge across my lens.

Inside Nippori Station, it’s business as usual. Today might be Christmas, but for Japan, nothing changes. Salarymen dash to make their connections on the busy trains, Seven Eleven workers look exhausted from a heavy night shift, and ‘Let It Go’ blares from every speaker, as usual. It’s a normal business day here in Tokyo.

I take the Keisei Skyliner to Narita International Airport and wait. Eventually, my friend appears wearing a knitted Christmas jumper and a Santa hat. Despite seeing her in festive garb, it never really feels like Christmas. No trees and no snow; in fact, another clear warm day. There is no Christmas music in the airport either, just the constant drone of nonsensical announcements.

We take the Narita Express bound for Shinjuku Station. The Narita Express describes itself as ‘fast, convenient, and pleasant to ride,’ but never has a quotation been so far from the truth. On the train, Christine makes an offhand comment about whether things ever break in Japan. I tell her, ‘This is Japan,’ which translates to mean, ‘Things never break here.’ No less than five minutes later, our ‘pleasant to ride’ train crawls to a halt outside Sakura Station.

We sit on the train for what seems like an hour before an announcement in Japanese tells us all to get off. A kind Japanese man sitting one row in front of us explains to us in English what is happening. We have to take a Sobu Line train from here to Chiba before continuing toward Shinjuku on local trains. For some unexplained reason, the Narita Express and the rapid line are out of action. Apparently, our ¥3390 tickets can be refunded in Shinjuku.

Not wishing to spend all day sitting on trains, we decide to get off close to Asakusa. We wander to Senso-ji Temple to get our fortune, something that I very much enjoy doing. Christine receives a ‘Bad Fortune’ and leaves it for the gods. We eat sushi at my favourite standing sushi restaurant before taking the train to Akihabara.

In Akihabara, for reasons that can’t be discerned, Ultraman is seen riding a horse.

We hop on a Yamanote Line train and get off at a random station. Her choice is Nippori, my fourth visit to this station this week. We wander across the tracks and explore the many temples and shrines. Passing through Yanaka Ginza Street, we stop off at a small park. Tired and with feet hurting from too much walking, we take a breather at Zenshoan Temple. As we enter the temple grounds, in the distance stands a huge gold statue.

The statue of Kannon is impressive, but what is potentially even more captivating is the Ghost Museum. Sadly, the museum featuring silk scroll paintings depicting ghosts and macabre ghost stories is only open during the summer months. There’s something about horror stories warming your blood, which is the reason for the seasonal opening hours.

With all this talk of spirits, we take a wander through Yanaka Cemetery. I have visited here once before and found it incredibly peaceful, and do so now. There’s something about the perfect rows of decorated graves that is somewhat calming. Perhaps the quiet all around adds to this feeling. For some reason, the unfinished sign doesn’t display how winter should look here. The row of sakura trees and blossoming primrose jasmine in spring is a reason to once again walk among the dead next year.

We head back to a hostel in Asakusa, the same one I had previously stayed at for eighty-two days. Tonight, the hostel is having a Christmas party, and Santa Claus will be arriving at half past eight by subway train. Exhausted from a long day and in need of my own bed, I decide to give the party a miss and head home.

Back in Minowa, I dine on Domino’s Pizza (four seasons) and a New York Cheesecake. I could post a photograph of a Japanese pizza from Domino’s, but it really isn’t any different from anywhere else. Instead, here are some instructions for Christmas decorations that I saw earlier today:

Merry Christmas.

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