Withdrawal & I

Posted on 02/08/2014 by Luke

Today, I have a rough plan: a day trip to Nara with a stop in Uji. Last night, I arranged to meet my friend Slavek at noon. He’s planning on going to Nara anyway, so we decide to travel together. However, I wake up at 11 a.m. with a hangover; I shouldn’t have stayed up until 4 a.m. drinking whisky and teaching people magic tricks.

Slavek and I walk to Kyoto Station. I’m pleased to find that he is a fellow fast walker, and his pace matches mine perfectly. It takes us ten minutes at a brisk stride. On the way, I stop off at Seven Eleven to withdraw a ¥10,000 note. Seven Eleven cash machines are the only ones that accept my card in Japan, and the minimum withdrawal here is ten thousand yen. We pay ¥240 and head to Uji by train. Slavek is a very clever guy with great English skills, a keen eye for both nutrition and politics, and he’s an avid Haruki Murakami reader. We have decent conversations. In Uji, we’re off to see the temple that is depicted on every ten-yen coin.

I’m fond of Japanese coins. The 100% aluminium ¥1 coin floats on water and sticks to any part of your face without falling off. The copper ¥10 coin brought us to Uji to see the temple. The ¥500 coin is the most valuable everyday coin globally, and it’s also the most interesting. When tilted at a certain angle, you can spot the kanji for ‘five-hundred-yen’ hidden in the grooved lines. Additionally, the word ‘Japan’ is discreetly engraved in 0.2mm across the coin’s face.

Amidst my blathering about coinage, we end up missing the stop for Uji. Getting off the train, we cross the platform and board another train bound for Kyoto Station. It’s an easy mistake, one forgiven by the Japanese train ticketing system. Finally arriving at Uji Station, we head to Byodoin Temple, the one featured on the ten-yen coin.

Byodoin is a UNESCO World Heritage Site, marking another off my list. It’s one of the few remaining examples of Heian temple architecture in Japan, dating back to its original construction in 998 AD. Surprisingly, it doesn’t seem to attract many tourists; in fact, most of the visitors I see here are Japanese. The temple features Japan’s most beautiful Pure Land Gardens among the few that remain, alongside a small museum, both covered by the entry fee.

The museum has won four architecture awards. Inside, it houses 52 wooden Bodhisattvas, the temple bell, the south-end Phoenix, and other historically noteworthy items. Additionally, the temple bell here is recognised as a national treasure. I discover that the golden phoenix here is the same one depicted on the rear side of the ¥10,000 note. More money musings. After exploring the museum, we hop onto a packed train filled with tourists heading to Nara:

We arrive in Nara just after 3 p.m. It’s a warm afternoon, thankfully quite cloudy. Heading to Todaiji Temple, we pass a lovely pond with turtles swimming around. We also visit a few smaller temples and a five-storey pagoda. Kohfukuji Temple, part of the Historic Monuments of Ancient Nara, is sadly closed for reconstruction. Surprisingly, it closed in October 2010 and won’t be ready until 2018. Eight years to reconstruct a temple. Just nuts.

And then there are the deer. Sika Deer roam freely through the town, with an estimated 1,200 of them in Nara. You can purchase deer snacks and feed them to these creatures. I’ve been told that the deer bow when you feed them. We witness a herd waiting patiently at a red crossing light, only crossing when the light turns green. They’re remarkably tame.

Todaiji Temple is the second-largest wooden structure on the planet. It was built during the Nara period on the instruction of Emperor Shomu. We pay our ¥600 entry fee and stroll through the gardens toward the temple. On the temple grounds, there used to be two 100-metre-tall pagodas, but they were destroyed during an earthquake. In 751 AD, these pagodas would have been the second tallest structures in the world, after the Egyptian Pyramids.

Some interesting facts about the temple: Emperor Shomu issued a law in Japan stating that the people should directly participate in the creation of new Buddhist temples across the country. Thanks to this law, 2,600,000 people were involved in the construction of the Great Buddha Hall and the statue inside.

Another interesting fact: the Great Buddha Hall is 1/3 smaller than the original, as it burnt down in 1180 AD and again in 1567 AD. That’s what you get when you build it entirely out of wood. I’ve noticed that nearly every temple I’ve visited in Kyoto has suffered the same fate of burning down and being rebuilt. Inside the hall stands the statue of the Vairocana Buddha, also known as the ‘Buddha that shines throughout the world like a sun.’

This is the world’s largest bronze image of the Buddha, towering at 14.98 metres. The construction of this Buddha nearly bankrupted the Japanese economy at the time, as it consumed all of the available bronze in the country. Sadly, behind the statue, there are many small gift shops that seem out of place and frankly spoil the ambiance of the scene.

It’s just after 5 p.m., so Slavek and I decide to grab some food in Nara. We end up eating far too much sushi, spending a total of ¥6436 at the restaurant. Later, we hop on the express train back to Kyoto, mistakenly using our tickets intended for the local train. During the journey, the conductor asks us to pay an additional ¥510 as a surplus charge for the express train. The express train takes about twenty minutes, half the time of the local train. Finally, we walk back to the hostel from Kyoto Station.

In the hostel bar, I enjoy ¥500 glasses of Suntory whisky highball. It’s not until my third drink that I inquire about the price of a double, as the standard highball is a bit weak for my taste. “It’s ¥500,” explains Daiki, the barman. So, after being here for five nights, I discover that a double whisky and soda costs the same as a single. If this holds true in all Japanese bars, I’m in luck. I also order some bar snacks—¥100 for mixed nuts. Daiki places a small bowl on a tiny set of scales, pouring nuts into the bowl until they reach the specified weight. Just nuts.

Prelude to a Quiche

Posted on 30/07/2014 by Luke

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Florets Get Ready to Grumble

Posted on 14/07/2014 by Luke

As my bus crawls into Fukuoka, I wonder what is going on. Traffic is at a stand still everywhere. Traffic lights linger on red a lot longer than usual. We pull into my penultimate stop. It is here that the bus driver explains to me in Japanese that it would take too long to drive to Hakata Station (the station I have paid for, albeit at a very reasonable discount). He suggest that I get off here and walk. Effectively, he is kicking me off the bus.

For some reason, the exit to the bus station takes me into the seventh floor of a department store. The sound here is deafening. Everywhere there are young women holding signs and screaming about whatever products they are tying to sell. I eventually find the lift, and get the hell out of here. I can’t quite work out how I went into the seventh floor from what I thought at the time was ground level. Very confusing. I see a sign telling me not to blow up trees. Very confusing.

As I walk out of a Tenjin Station, I have no idea which direction to go. I would normally look at a map but I can’t find one anywhere. Instead, I see the biggest crowd of people I have ever seen on the streets. This might explain the traffic problems. It turns out I’m at a practice run for Tuesday’s Hakata Gion Yamasaka Festival, a seven-hundred-and-fifty-year-old tradition in Fukuoka. Surprisingly, it draws up to a million spectators every year. Lucky me.

There are people here throwing buckets of water over the performers. It is a hot day, so I can understand why. I do, however, begin to get annoyed. I am trying to get to Hakata Station, and I have a very heavy bag on my shoulders. It is frustrating because there are no maps anywhere here. In the end I have to disturb a policeman. “This way, this way,” the policeman says, not pointing in any direction at all.

I have an empty bottle of water but I haven’t seen a single vending machine since getting off at Tenjin. No vending machines means no bins. So I have a heavy bag and a useless empty bottle; and I still can’t see Hakata Station. This is one of the few times in Japan that I am getting really irritated. To make matters worse, every place I go, the road is blocked by hordes of Yamakasa performers.

After forty-four minutes, I finally make it to Hakata Station. I wait what feels like three hours for the traffic lights to change to a pedestrian green, and take a walk through the station. There is a construction site next door that has been heavily decorated with baskets of flowers. A nice idea. After spending two weeks in quaint Beppu, I am now suffering from city shock. In Beppu I longed for crowds and nightlife. In Fukuoka, I want everyone to stop coughing, talking, getting in my way, and let me enjoy some peace and quiet. Please.

From Hakata Station the directions provided by my hostel are perfect. I pay the ¥28,000 for two weeks in a four bed dormitory; not bad. After sorting out hostel stuff, I remember that I haven’t had any food today. I walk back toward Hakata Station, and enter a building full of restaurants. There are more restaurants in this building than the whole of Beppu. I see a sign for a restaurant selling horse meat, which is unfortunate for the horses.

I see people queueing for restaurants. The first time I have seen this in years. I eventually settle on a vegetarian restaurant. Vege Style Dining. It turns out this is a pasta and pizza restaurant offering a mix of meat dishes and vegetarian style food. The menu, sadly, is in Japanese. I order a Suntory whisky highball and wait for a waiter. The waiter comes over and asks me in fluent English if I can read Japanese. I tell him I can. I lie. Subsequently, I order a salmon and broccoli pizza.

The highball comes out, and is very strong. I drink it in one go and order a second. My not very vegetarian salmon pizza arrives with the second highball, perfect timing. I didn’t expect so much broccoli, eight huge florets, one on each of the eight slices of pizza. I pay ¥1879 in total. Good value considering two drinks and a huge pile of broccoli.

I see a sign saying Namco. I take the lift (elevator) to the seventh floor of the train station and find an arcade the size of a train station. Here I pay ¥100 for one hundred pachinko balls, I lose. I am surprised to see AKB48 machines. They are next to the smoking area. Getting children addicted to pachinko makes me a little annoyed.

There is a section of the arcade with fourteen Tekken machines. As I take photographs, a staff member tells me I am not allowed to photograph in here. I play another round of ¥1 a ball pachinko, before leaving with my losses.

Heading back to the hostel, I count seven convenience stores. One Seven Eleven, three Lawson Stores, two Family Mart, and one Daily Yamazaki. All on the same road. Where I am standing right now, I can see three Lawson Stores. A panoramic view of signs bright blue. So many convenience stores. If you played the Konbini Hop drinking game here, you would be dead in an a hour. I see a confectionery shop that simply makes me smile:

Back at the hostel it is 8 p.m. It really is nice here, the atmosphere superb. Everyone greets you with a ‘Hello’ when you enter a room, as it should be. I assist a Korean man who has a job interview tomorrow with his English; his pronunciation is good but slightly off. I spend six hours in the common area, engaging in conversations with other guests, the hostel boss, and the numerous cleaning staff who work here for three hours a day in exchange for accommodation—a pretty good deal.

Tomorrow I make plans to meet a friend I know from England, I am quite looking forward to seeing her. She has been in Fukuoka for a few weeks now. The plan is to do karaoke until the early morning, then head to Hakata Gion Yamasaka Festival for exactly one minute to five, the start time for the main event. A very odd time to start a festival.

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:

So Long, Tokyo, and Thanks for All the Fish

Posted on 29/06/2014 by Luke

After a month of staying at the best hostel in the world (and finally memorising all nineteen stops on the Tokyo Metro Ginza Line), it is time to move on. The anticipation of spending eight hours on two different trains is something I lack. To avoid a whole day of travel I instead book a really cheap hotel at Kokura, which is the destination of the first of two trains.

At Tokyo Station, I purchase a ticket for the bullet train, the Shinkansen Nozomi. This high-speed train reaches speeds of up to 186 mph. After handing over my ¥22,310, I receive my ticket and proceed to the platform. I wait for thirty minutes while the train is cleaned in preparation for departure. The cacophony of noise from other platforms, announcements, station staff, and random whistles and bells floods back to me; I had forgotten just how prevalent it was when catching a bullet train.

I take my ‘reserved’ seat by the window. The perfect seat. No one sitting next to me, and a plug socket for all my charging needs. If I had booked a ‘non-reserved’ seat, it would have meant queueing outside one of the first three carriages. When the doors open, it’s basically a free-for-all—first come, first served for seat selection. With my journey lasting an exact 4 hours and 48 minutes, rushing and fighting over a seat was out of the question. If no seats are available, you’re forced to stand up. Opting for a seat in a reserved carriage is well worth the extra couple of thousand Yen.

Back at my seat I weigh up the prices. A seven-day JR Rail Pass costs ¥29,110; this allows unlimited travel on all JR Rail lines for an activated seven-day period. Considering I still have a second leg of travel tomorrow (which will cost another ¥4000), the JR Rail Pass is a necessity if you are visiting Japan and plan to travel across the country. Travelling from Tokyo to Beppu will almost cost me the same as the seven-day pass.

The food cart eventually passes and I buy a packet of crisps for breakfast (Anytime, any where; right?) and a beer. I work my way through a third of Murakami’s ‘A Wild Sheep Chase’. Three beers later and I go for a doze. I wake up with an hour to go so listen to OK Computer. OK Commuter. I arrive at Kokura. My journey is an exact 288 minutes. Not a second more. Not a second less.

Kokura is located between Honshu and Kyushu; two of the largest of the four main islands that make up Japan’s geography. Honshu is the largest island, referred to as the Japanese mainland. It is the island that I’ve just left. Kyushu is the most south-westerly island, and where I am heading. Outside Kokura Station I am surprised to see a vending machine that for ¥650 sells unusual bottles containing fish in a brown liquid. I have no idea.

I am still reeling from the fish vending machine. With no sense of direction I find that my hotel is clearly marked on the Township Guide Map. Hooray! I take an unhurried walk carrying all of my stuff on my back for the first time in a month; I am sure it is heavier than I remember. I hate this kind of travel, moving to a hotel for just a day, then on to somewhere else. Nope. Book two weeks at a time minimum in the same place, that’s how I prefer it. I can take my time and take it all in. One thing a day. I don’t like to rush about.

After checking in to the hotel, I venture out for some food. Exhausted from the hours on a train and a few too many heavy nights of drinking, I grab some quick stand up sushi and head back to the hotel. The hotel was really cheap, ¥3400 cheap; and I understand why. The room is the size of a small cupboard. I can’t get the television to work, but luckily there are instructions in Japanese. I take a photograph of the instructions and my camera translates them to English. “Press and hold Power then press 3, 1, 3.” It works! I spend the night watching game shows and talent shows before falling asleep.

The next day (which is today, unless you’re reading this on a different day) …

I wake up to find time has moved the day to Sunday. To make up for my lack of updates I will continue on with this one. I’ve been merely socialising instead of sightseeing and feel a bit bad having not wrote anything for five days. I check out of the hotel early. Not to miss an opportunity, I head for Kokura Castle. The skies are hot and clear and I feel out of place with an umbrella and a rucksack. After seeing the Castle, I head back to Kokura Station.

No one I have met has spoken English in Kokura. I get through the ticket booking process by nodding and saying, “Hai!” I think the first question was, ‘single or return?’ The second was probably, ‘reserved or non-reserved?’ I receive my single reserved ticket; it costs me ¥4220 for 1 hour and 8 minutes on a train. This weekend is getting expensive and I still have to hand over ¥18,000 for two weeks at the hostel. On the way back, at least my travel time will be broken up by two-week intervals as I sweep back towards Tokyo. Between now and then I have 7 weeks of semi-planned stops along the way.

Beppu-bound on the Limited Express Sonic Train, I am glad for last night’s rest; having my own space and a bathtub were quite the treat. On the train I continue to read ‘A Wild Sheep Chase’ and find myself laughing out loud at regular intervals. The train journey flies by in no time at all.

I leave Beppu Station in awe. Beppu is by the sea and surrounded in every direction by tall mountains covered in wildlife. At my hostel I discover that I am a one minute walk from the beach and a two minute walk from Beppu Tower. As I hand over my ¥18,000, the woman at the reception desk finds it unusual that I am staying for two weeks. “What are you going to be doing for two weeks?” Take it all in. That’s how I prefer it. I don’t like to rush about.

It is Sunday and there is a nearby section of interesting intersecting streets filled with shops, bars, and restaurants; mostly closed. I find a vending machine selling not fish, but ice cream. I also find that my Suica card works on the vending machines here, a nice surprise. These little Japanese pre-paid cards can be used at Seven Eleven stores, some vending machines, and ticket barriers. I didn’t think they would work this far from Tokyo. The Pasmo card definitely doesn’t work. If you plan on travelling around Japan, always choose the Suica card over the Pasmo card.

I find a pasta and pizza restaurant with no English menu. I order a glass of wine and a pizza in Japanese. This is the first time I’ve ever felt I needed to speak the native language. In Tokyo I could get by just fine. Perhaps this is for the better; I got a little too comfortable and this might just give me some motivation to actually study a bit harder. The food costs ¥842 for the lot. At least I’ll save some money on food here.

Back at the hostel for 3 o’clock chicken time! I realise that I’m going to miss the crew in Asakusa; I’ve been missing a lot recently. I remind myself that this is not for here. Moving on I find my room; it is a traditional Japanese-style room with a Tatami flooring. Four beds, so sharing with just three others. Less crowded which is good. The view from the balcony is amazing. I can see Beppu Tower, which lights up at night. I can see a horizon of skyscraper obstructed mountains. I wonder which way the sun comes up; my sense of direction very much missing too.

I explore my local surroundings. There is an international bar called Hot Bepper, it is thirty seconds away. You might think I exaggerate with my walking distances sometimes, but I can actually see the bar from the hostel. The bar has its very own table tennis table and is hosting a tournament next week. Hot Bepper is also run by the same company that runs the hostels I’ve been staying at. I like the pun name too, considering where I am.

I swing by the nearby Family Mart. An occurrence that will never fail to make me smile occurs. Staff at a convenience store greeting me through the door, bowing, saying thank you, bowing, and saying goodbye as I leave. Back at the hostel, I drink Suntory whisky highballs and write up the two days you’ve just read. I plan now to take a hot spring bath in the hostel’s very own hot spring baths; before heading out to the Hot Bepper bar, which will probably be closed on Sundays.

Stop! Hamarikyu Time!

Posted on 16/06/2014 by Luke

It’s 9:31 a.m. and the bar in my hostel is open for business. Japan are playing their opening World Cup game in just under thirty minutes; much to the delight of the staff here. Samurai Blue, a ¥300 cocktail named after the Japan squad is being sold. ‘Free’ soft drinks and bar snacks are also available. Almost everyone is wearing Japanese football shirts, face paint, and bandannas. Fans are waving megaphones and flags.

Yesterday a fifty inch television was installed in preparation for the ‘big game’, and signs advertising the match were strategically placed around the hostel. The football is finally here. TV Tokyo are here again too; filming ‘foreigners’ in the hostel who are watching the match. After a good start from Japan, the game ends in a disappointing defeat, but everyone remains upbeat.

I apply for some jobs before deciding to leave the air conditioned hostel and get some breakfast. I go outside to check if I need an umbrella today or sunscreen. Outside clear skies and 30°C; so much for the rainy season. My breakfast consists of a crustless egg sandwich and a British stereotype in the form of Royal Milk Tea; I’m anemic royalty! It is one of many satisfying moments to my day.

After breakfast I have no plans, so I take the Tokyo Metro Ginza Line to a random station. At Shinbashi Station I walk past a Porsche showroom, a broadcasting tower, and an advertising museum. I keep walking until I eventually find an information board with a map; ironically the advertising museum isn’t advertised on the information board. I see a place nearby that looks like a park and decide to check it out.

On the way I pass a drunk man in a Japanese football shirt, randomly singing the names of football players. He slurs his words and staggers as he drinks from a can of Kirin Beer. I arrive at the park, which isn’t actually a park. I pay the ¥300 entrance fee, and enter a place called ‘Hamarikyu Gardens’.

The Hamarikyu Gardens were once the family garden of the Tokugawa Shogun, but were later donated to the City of Tokyo by the Imperial Family in 1945. They are now designated as a Special Place of Scenic Beauty and Special Historical Site of Japan. I wander the lush gardens for a while finally free from the hustle and bustle of Tokyo; however, my tranquillity is somewhat spoilt by the tall office blocks that scrape the sky in every direction.

Back at the hostel there is a poster pinned to the notice board for a gyoza party tomorrow night, offering free dumplings. There is also an advertisement from broadcaster NHK. It is looking for volunteers for a TV program I am familiar with called ‘Tokyo Eye’, which is broadcast worldwide via satellite and the Internet. It’s for a short documentary to film tourists experiences in Odaiba. I sign up.

On Tuesday morning I am to take part in a televised bike tour featuring local foods and activities as part of the ongoing TV Tokyo documentary. On Wednesday morning I am involved in a feature for Fuji TV at Cafe Byron Bay; the English bar I have mentioned many times before, and my local drinking establishment here in Asakusa. It has been voted number 1 out of 2,136 restaurants in Taito on TripAdvisor.

Japan has been kind to me so far, and I consider myself lucky to be featured in three different television shows in my first three weeks of being here.

I swing by Cafe Byron Bay for a quick Suntory whisky highball (whisky and soda). A few highballs later and it’s time to eat. I am still exploring the thousands of restaurants in Asakusa; today I decide on Indian cuisine. I order a vegetarian set meal for ¥980. At the time of ordering there’s a lovely little scale ranging from one to five chilies. I ask for three and the waiter says, “Three! But three is really really hot!” I change my mind and choose ‘two chilies’.

My food arrives. It includes a salad, a lentil based Daal, a nondescript ‘vegetarian curry’, the smallest portion of rice I have ever seen, and the largest naan bread I have ever seen. It tastes great, and the photograph probably doesn’t do the food justice. The Daal is so hot that it causes my eyes to water; I somehow manage to eat it though. It is so hot that I hate to think what would have happened to my eyes had I ordered the three chilies option. Presumably the five chilies option was off the Scoville Scale and on fire.

After my meal, the chef personally comes out of the kitchen and asks me in English how my food was. I tell him that it was very good and I would return. I actually would return and had already been eyeing up the Tandoori Fish option on the menu.

Back at the hostel for a few cans of Suntory whisky highball. I end up in A.S.A.B. drinking with a Swedish guy who’s friend looks and sounds exactly like Steve Buscemi. After a couple of drinks here I take the two minute walk from the bar back to the hostel for a relatively early night.

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