Tag Archives: Fuji TV

Paint and Gunpowder

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The four of us from last night absorb a new person into our group, a guy called Josh. We head out on foot toward Ueno Park. Today, the National Museum of Western Art is having a free admission day, and despite being in Japan, we consider it worth a look. We stroll inside and are asked to show our tickets. “Free admission day,” I tell the lady.
“You still need to get a ticket,” she informs me. We head out of the museum and to the ticket office. We ask for five tickets, and hand over no money before heading back inside and handing over the tickets to the lady. A rather trivial exercise.

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The Museum of Western Art is the primary institution of its kind in Japan, emphasising paintings with a few sculptures thrown in for good measure. The museum is adorned with an abundance of macabre Baroque works, where death and torture seem to be popular themes. Amidst the horror, notable pieces include ‘The Last Supper’ painted by Marten de Vos, Vincent van Gogh’s ‘Roses’, and a rather disappointing collection of Claude Monet paintings. Not one to truly appreciate art, I find that Monet’s work looks terrible up close, especially ‘Water Lilies’, which, in my opinion, looks plain awful.

My favourite piece on display is Pablo Picasso’s ‘Couple’. Abstract expressionism has always been a preference of mine; I’ll take this over a bowl of fruit or a basket of flowers any day. Picasso painted this incredible piece at eighty-eight years old.

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We leave the museum and take a Yamanote Line train from Ueno to Ikebukuro. Outside the station, we need to head east. Josh turns out to be well-prepared, pulling out an actual compass and casually guiding us in the direction of east. This earns him the nickname ‘Compass Josh’ for the rest of the day, and he seems to take to the idea quite fondly.

The reason we are here is to visit a shop run by a company that has faced criticism for its practices, including accusations of contributing to infant mortality in underdeveloped countries due to its reluctance to spend extra profit on proper labelling for its baby milk formula. The shop sells a specific type of confectionery that is hugely popular in Japan. This two-fingered chocolate-covered wafer bar confection is available in many remarkable flavours, such as wasabi, strawberry cheesecake, and sakura.

While the others queue for their chocolate, I wander around outside and admire the street art.

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We head to a small coffee shop before making our way back to the train station. On the platform, two men are fighting. One guy stands up and walks away, his face dripping with blood, his eyes bruised. This is the first time I witness violence like this in Japan, and it comes as a bit of a shock.

I head home for a while to prepare for a performance this evening before meeting the others in Odaiba. Compass Josh’s partner, Jessica, has joined us, expanding our group to six. We explore the giant statue of Gundam before settling in the food court of Diver City, enjoying overpriced wine in undersized glasses. Outside Diver City, an extraordinary bus stop catches my eye, begging to be photographed.

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Tonight in Odaiba, a special fireworks display is scheduled for 7 p.m. We wander around the area, with the evening darkness stolen by extravagant illuminations. There’s a feeling of forgotten Christmas lights here, and decorations that will likely remain year-round. Trees glisten, Tokyo Tower in the distance shines orange, and the Rainbow Bridge is bathed in a spectrum of light from red to violet.

We position ourselves on the balcony of the Decks building, a vast shopping mall offering a spectacular view of Tokyo Bay. At exactly seven o’clock, fireworks shoot into the sky, creating a dazzling display that lasts for ten minutes. Below us, boats are illuminated in various colours, their reflections shimmering on the water alongside the radiant Rainbow Bridge. Tokyo Tower continues to shine in the distance. The backdrop consists of a sea of lights from office buildings, adding to the immersive experience. In the foreground, the glow from the massive firework display warms the air, completing the enchanting scene.

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After the fireworks, we take the train back to Asakusa, passing by the Fuji TV building as it displays bright flashing text: ‘What a cool we are!’

Back in Asakusa, we part ways. I head to Cafe Byron Bay for a bonenkai, a ‘forget the year’ party widely celebrated here. The tap-dancing balloon artist, whom I first saw performing on the streets of Asakusa during my first week in Japan, is here to entertain. A belly dancer is also putting on a show. I perform with trumpet and guitar. Food is free and all-you-can-eat. Everyone gets very drunk. After the entertainment, we each give a speech about the year we’ve had and what we hope to achieve in 2015. My resolution and absolute aim are to publish a science-fiction novel.

After the end-of-year party, I head out with seven Japanese friends for a second night in a row of karaoke.

Twelve Hundred Monkeys

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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.

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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 half way 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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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 half way up a mountain.