Tag Archives: Greek

Prelude to a Quiche

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The Kaleidoscope Museum is a unique establishment with a fascinating twist. It proudly exhibits fifty distinct kaleidoscopes, chosen from an expanding collection of approximately 150 pieces. Among these are exceptionally valuable kaleidoscopes crafted by renowned artists from various corners of the world. I discovered that the term ‘kaleidoscope’ originates from Greek roots: ‘kalos‘ meaning ‘beautiful’, ‘eidos‘ meaning ‘form’, and ‘scopes‘ meaning ‘to look at’—a beautiful amalgamation that translates to ‘to look at beautiful forms’.

At the museum, visitors can freely pick up and use kaleidoscopes, ranging from finely crafted ones to those ingeniously made from plastic drink bottles. Among the assortment, my favourite piece doubles as a music box, serenading me with a tune while the images twirl before my eyes. Additionally, there’s a quaint shop within the premises offering kaleidoscopes, kits, and keychains. It’s a fantastic way to kick-start the day. Unfortunately, photography isn’t permitted, and I find myself constantly shadowed by a staff member. However, I manage to sneak a photograph of the inside of a kaleidoscope when she isn’t looking.

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After leaving the museum, I walk for fifteen minutes, crossing the river to reach Yoboji Temple. I feel it’s only fair that my first temple is a Nichiren Buddhist one—the school of Buddhism I am familiar with. The Temple was built in 1548. It’s actually a rebuilding of two temples that previously occupied the area but had been burnt to the ground two years before.

In 1536, the warrior-monks of Mount Hiei attacked the city, burning down all 21 of the Nichiren Buddhist head temples in Kyoto, along with the entire southern half of the city and a substantial portion of the northern half. This event is known as the Tenmon Persecution. The temple itself is rather quaint.

Yoboji_Temple[1]

Not far from Yoboji Temple, I stumble upon a Paper and Printing Item Shop. The gallery is tiny, and a woman sits at the desk, watching my every move. I’m tempted to pull out my camera and capture a photograph of one of the ornamental fans or origami animals, but to avoid any hassle, I decide against it.

I choose to visit a shrine next. The road I stroll along is lined with various temples, shrines, plenty of walking routes, maps, and bus stops. You can literally shrine-hop by taking the bus if you’re feeling lazy. However, I prefer to walk, and I’m not inclined to see more than one temple and shrine a day. It can be a bit overwhelming to take in too much at once. I ascend about fifty concrete steps to reach Awata-jinga Shrine. Before entering, I participate in the purification ritual.

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This tradition of cleansing is observed before entering a sacred space. The basin here features a water-breathing dragon, which also serves as the source of water for the ritual. I must admit, this is one of the most exquisite purification basins I’ve encountered at a Shinto shrine. I start by washing my left hand, then my right hand, and finally, my mouth.

Awata-jinga Shrine dates back to 794 AD and specialises in preventing illness. However, inside the shrine, someone is noisily using an electric saw, which disrupts the serenity of the moment for me. Nevertheless, the shrine itself is visually stunning. I descend the fifty or so steps and continue along a road lined with traditional Japanese-style houses.

Awata[1]

Downtown Kyoto bustles with tourists, drawn here to explore the shrines, temples, museums, galleries, restaurants, and the renowned souvenir shops the city offers. I spot three cat cafes and a lone dog cafe among the bustling streets. Purchasing a can of cold coffee from a vending machine, I encounter one of those machines that promises a prize if it lands on triple sevens. Miraculously, it does! I win any drink of my choice, and naturally, I opt for a second can of Coffee Boss Rainbow Blend.

It’s mid-afternoon, and feeling a bit peckish, I opt for a light bite to eat. Given the scorching 35°C temperature, I choose to stay in the cool shade of the shopping arcade. A sign catches my eye, indicating a vegan and organic cafe nearby. As I step inside, I’m greeted with a chorus of “Hello” from the other patrons. Taking a seat, I order a set meal featuring a vegan quiche.

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My food promptly arrives—a serving of vegan quiche, accompanied by a delightful salad dressed in a delicious vinaigrette, a ramekin of squash, chickpeas, and peppers. Alongside it comes a bowl of leek, cabbage, and mushroom soup, complemented by glasses of cold water and cold green tea. The entire meal comes to ¥918. If I weren’t already full, I’d happily indulge in another slice of quiche—it was that delicious.

Outside the cafe, a guy on a bicycle whizzes past, blaring an air horn from the spot where a bell would typically be. The shopping arcade strictly prohibits vehicles, including bicycles. A bit further along, I encounter a television crew filming people and asking them why they enjoy eating crêpes. While tempted to participate, I realise I’m not particularly fond of eating crêpes.

crepefilming[1]

Back at the hostel, I settle on the roof with a can of Suntory whisky highball, delving into my fifth Haruki Murakami novel since arriving here sixty-two days ago. The air has cooled, and the refreshing breeze is a welcome relief. Japan has been grappling with a severe heatwave for the past week, and it seems it will persist right through until the weekend.

I read until 8 p.m. before heading to a nearby music shop for a free gig. A stage has been set up next to the ukuleles. The band performing is a two-piece folk band. Their sound is somewhat average. Nonetheless, it’s pleasant to experience some live music, even though the venue is rather unusual.

“My night winds down at the hostel bar, talking to random people with their random ideas.

Moshimo Tours, Robots, Red-lights, Coming to Life

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I am blaming everything on the constant breathing in and out of air-conditioned air. Everywhere I go there is air-conditioning. In my room. Inside the train. Outside the train. It has destroyed my throat to the point that it is so dry, it hurts when I swallow. Clearly the magical cow didn’t work. Thanks to illness, I haven’t done as much these past few days; not enough for a whole post each day. Instead, I will summarise the last three days here:

Wednesday

Today I am filmed as part of a television show for Fuji Television. The show, called Moshimo Tours, is about Cafe Byron Bay. Presented, I think, by Airi Taira. There are eight western guests in the cafe including me. We chat amongst ourselves as the lighting equipment and tripods are set up. There is basically nowhere to move with all the crew. Cameras three times the size as TV Tokyo’s. A team of about fifteen staff members all wait around outside until it is eventually time to film.

With the crew in place, Airi Taira, four comedians and a Japanese pop idol enter the cafe. Udo Suzuki and Hiroyuki Amano are here, they are the famous comedy due Kyain. Sanpei is here too; a football shirt wearing Japanese comedian who’s catchphrase is saying his own name. I instantly recognise him from episode two of cult classic ‘Adam and Joe Go Tokyo’. I am now on the same television show as him, which is quite exciting. The name of the famous Japanese pop idol escapes me. I am told that the band he is in are the Japanese equivalent to One Direction.

TV・｣・ｲ・ｷ[1]

My part in this show is in the background. I am a customer enjoying a drink, talking to my friends, and pretending I haven’t noticed the comedians, and idol, at the bar. Pretending I haven’t noticed the huge lighting rig, the cameras, the guy furiously hand-writing cards which he holds up for the comedians to read from or garner instruction from.

After filming for some fifty minutes, the comedians leave and we are interviewed on camera. Following the interviews we are each given a gift from the producer as a thank you for taking part; a Japanese hand fan. As a thank you for coming, the cafe owner gives the eight of us some money to buy dinner, although she didn’t need to; just being on television with famous Japanese comedians was thank you enough. The show will air on Saturday 5th July at 6:30pm on Fuji TV.

I book another month in Asakusa for the middle of August. It really is beginning to feel like home. Between now and then I am going to travel across Japan like I had originally intended. I get talking to a Japanese guy in a bar, he asks of my plans. I tell him that I am thinking of travelling first to a place called Beppu; famous for its hot springs and various kinds of geothermal healing. It turns out that the Japanese guy in the bar is on vacation in Tokyo, and he actually works at a hostel in Beppu. The same hostel I am considering booking. Beppu is on the other side of Japan, some 496 miles from Tokyo. Yet another strange coincidence.

Thursday

It is another hot clear day. I have been here for three weeks now and it has only rained for three of the days. I go into Cafe Byron Bay to thank the owner for buying me lunch. It is very early and I am the only customer. I ask her to make me some eggs. We talk. She says out of the blue that when I come back in August, she will happily employ me. “Thank you,” I say, tucking into my happy free-range eggs and happy toast. After breakfast I hire a bike again and spot this random guy:

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I spend about four hours just cycling around Taito, exploring side streets at not-so-great speeds. Even the policemen here have one speed bicycles. I cycle down the Sumida River and back again, looking for interesting things, mostly seeking odd signs, hilarious typographical errors, or ‘staff wanted’ notices. I see a woman in black face makeup and red eyes. She is holding a doll. I have no idea why.

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At the hostel Daisuke and I talk about farmyard animal noises and phone sounds. Different in every language; my favourite is probably the Japanese frog sound. We hang out at the hostel bar for a while. Today is Thursday but the Jazz Club isn’t on tonight, instead there is live music from three staff members; a guitarist, a vocalist, and a violinist. They are playing an evening of music from Studio Ghibli films. For each song the lyrics are read out in English, then the song is performed in Japanese. I stay and watch both sets.

Friday

Luis Suárez is out of his wheelchair and scoring goals. Not worth getting up at 4 a.m. for. After the game I had planned to watch ‘Japan versus Greek’; or so the sign in my hostel says, however, I decide to give it a miss and I’m glad I did. After breakfast I take a few trains and end up in Shinjuku. Here I walk around. I see a typo on a McDonald’s sign and wonder how a company of this size could not employ just one person that can proofread English. I think about writing to McDonald’s but the moment passes.

McTypo[1]

I take a walk to Kabukicho, the red-light district in Shinjuku. Here I find the famous ‘Robot Restaurant’ that everyone keeps telling me about. The restaurant features a live Japanese cabaret show. The female performers wear neon and not a lot else. They dance around on giant robot tanks, robot samurai, robot dinosaurs, all to the sound of techno music. It costs ¥5000 for a sixty minute show. I suppose they have to charge a lot to make back the ¥10 billion they allegedly spent on the place when it opened last year. ¥10 billion! I decide to give it a miss.

Back in Asakusa, I go out for a tuna sashimi set meal. It is served with the usual suspects, rice, miso soup, wasabi, a selection of pickles, and some love in the style of heart shapes and flowers. It costs ¥1830 with a beer, which just happens to be the exact amount of change I have in my pocket. Yet another strange coincidence.

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My night ends at Cafe Byron Bay for last orders where I impress with a couple of card tricks. “What’s your favourite playing card?” I ask a Japanese salaryman. He tells me the seven of clubs; he actually says ‘clover’ instead of ‘clubs’. I reveal the top card and he gives me a puzzled look before bursting into applause. The top card is of course the seven of clubs. The magic trick earns me a beer.

I pop to a late night supermarket called ‘Life’. Here I buy a couple of cans of Suntory whisky highball. As I leave the shop I notice this amazing sign:

thank_you_for_coming_to_life[1]