Tourism is a Dancer

Today I wake up to find that the hostel has been decorated with ‘Happy Halloween’ signs, spooky spiders, and multicoloured pumpkins and bats. Thinking the staff might have got the date wrong, I ask, “You do realise that Halloween isn’t for another month?”
The reply from the receptionists, “We know, but it looks so cute!” Fair enough.

I take two different trains to Koto, to the Tokyo International Exhibition Centre, nicknamed ‘Tokyo Big Sight.’ Today is an event oddly called ‘Japan Travel and Tourism Association Tourism EXPO Japan.’ The annual event is to increase awareness of tourism in Japan and to promote different countries and cultures from around the world. The exhibition centre is massive, looks like a spaceship, and is about to take off.

TokyoBigSight[1]

Tokyo Big Sight opened up in 1996, and will be the main broadcasting centre for the Tokyo 2020 Summer Olympics. The area outside is flourishing with well kept plants, perfectly cut lawns, benches, art pieces, and sculptures. The area inside contains an eight-storey conference tower, the East Exhibition Halls, and the West Exhibition Halls.

Today I head to the East Halls, six in total but merged to form two massive halls for the event today. Inside I am greeted by megaphones and mega queues. I arrive just after 1 p.m., queue for half an hour, before paying ¥1300 entry fee. I begin my tourism journey in East Hall One.

tourismexpo[1]

The exhibition includes booths from 150 nations and regions, all here to promote tourism in their respective countries. Additionally, booths from the 47 prefectures of Japan aim to raise awareness of local culture. Everywhere I go, I’m handed bags of souvenirs, each emphasising a specific country or prefecture. Mock passports are available, encouraging visitors to collect fake air travel stamps from the various countries represented here.

As I wander around, I spot two Japanese geisha. I haven’t previously seen a geisha in Japan, so this is a nice bonus. They even smile and let me take a photograph.

geishas[1]

The geisha are here to promote the area of Nihonbashi. I am handed an envelope containing a fake boarding pass and loads of smaller flyers advertising their area. One of the flyers describes Nihonbashi as ‘The crossroad of past and present – diving into an array of unique Edo experiences.’ It also features advertisements for local food outlets in the area, coupons for tea ceremonies, and adverts for shops that sell traditional crafts and gifts.

East Hall Six contains a massive RV show, which is of no interest to me. East Hall Five is littered with stands from outside of Asia. East Hall four contains stands for the many Japanese airlines and corporate companies. I continue my wandering around, getting more and more free flyers and bags of promotional material. It seems every stand here has some form of entertainment or a weird mascot. The Okaniwa stand even has an aquarium showcasing many of their tropical fish.

fishokinawa[1]

There is a section promoting Japanese Traditional Crafts, along with another section commemorating the 400th anniversary of Tokugawa Ieyasu’s death. The Robot Restaurant even has a stand here, featuring robots and scantily clad women to attract business. Pocari Sweat is hosting a talk about their plans to land on the moon. Drums can be heard in the distance everywhere I walk.

In addition to the aquarium, Okinawa is hosting a live dance and drum show. Men from Kanazawa Prefecture are balancing on dangerous-looking ladders while wearing traditional robes. A renowned female vocalist is performing on stage, but photography is not permitted. The people of Switzerland are dancing, and a sign inviting to ‘Meet South Africa’ hosts a live percussion show.

meetsouthafrica[1]

Egyptians dance too. The Taiwanese perform a circus act. China showcases a folk dance. South Korea presents a performance from an all-female K-pop band, followed by a live talk show where, again, no photography is allowed. Many more stands are hosting talks. I have a nice chat with the people of Bhutan, a country I’ve been interested in visiting for quite some time. I also discuss Climate Change and their government’s decision to go carbon neutral with representatives from the Maldives. Additionally, I have a random chat with Brianna Acosta, better known as Miss Hawaii 2013.

misshawaii[1]

I wander around a bit longer, enjoying the diverse dances, playful mascots, and individuals dressed as samurai. Overall, the exhibition is quite enjoyable; it provides an excellent opportunity for the people of Japan to engage firsthand with other cultures. Simultaneously, there is also plenty to discover and learn about Japan here.

Eventually, I tire and take the two trains back to Asakusa. Here, I dine at an Italian restaurant. The Japanese owner comes to talk to me after my meal, asking loads of questions. Apparently, he sees me almost every day and wants to know where I am from and what I am doing in Asakusa; he’s just curious, I suppose. When I go to pay, he randomly gives me a ten percent discount. “Grazie!” I say to him, but ironically, he doesn’t speak any Italian. Unbelievable.

The Train Station at the End of the Universe

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

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

theendoftheworld[1]

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

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

Pier[1]

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

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

crates[1]

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

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

cliffside[1]

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

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

trainarrivesatlast[1]

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

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

reef[1]

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

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

liftingtheshrine[1]

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

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

A Kale of Two Sakes

I ride the Tokyo Metro Ginza Line. I get off the train at Nihonbashi Station to buy a drink. I recently discovered that there is a small shop selling ¥300 smoothies here. It is the same side of the crossing gate as the tracks so there is no need for me to buy another ticket. I buy a smoothie and hop onto the next train some two minutes later. Today I choose a healthy bright green plastic cup of crushed kale.

From Harajuku Station, I take the five minute walk to Yoyogi Park. There is a festival here today in celebration of fifty years of diplomatic relationship between Japan and Jamaica. The festival is relatively quiet, but it is still morning. There are market stalls selling jerk chicken, mugs, and adorable hats adorning the Jamaican flag; the usual. There is a stage and a choir, they sound good but they are only sound checking, so no one applauds when they finish. I wander for fifteen minutes before deciding to leave.

one_love[1]

As I exit the festival a man with a shaved head and white clothing approaches me. He hands me a gold card with a picture of Siddhārtha Gautama etched to the surface. He is not a native Japanese person, and is probably not even a real monk. He tries to get me to write my name, address, and how much money I am willing to ‘pledge’ to him. I tell him that I’m not interested, give him back his card, and walk away shaking my head. Using religion to scam people out of money, that’s a first.

Around the corner from the park, opposite the entrance to Harajuku Station is Takeshita Street; a famous pedestrianised shopping street with an amusing name. It is lined with small boutiques featuring all the newest fashion, and far too many ice cream shops. There is nothing really of interest for me here so I walk the length of the street before returning to Harajuku Station and jumping back on the train.

takeshita[1]

Back in Asakusa I hire a bicycle. ¥200 for four hours, brilliant. I park my bike at the hostel and sit on the pavement to take photographs of a lit up Tokyo Skytree; I try to improve the image by messing around with my cameras settings. Someone shouts my name from behind me, “Luke, what are you doing sitting on the floor?” It is a woman who works at the hostel. I tell her I am messing around with exposure and shutter speed. “Oh,” she says rather confused, “I’m emptying trash!” I think to myself that I probably know more about emptying rubbish than I do exposure and shutter speed.

Back on my bike, I cycle around in search of food. After a while, I eventually give in to a Seven Eleven tartare sauce fish burger and a bottle of Pocari Sweat. Pocari Sweat is going to be the first sports drink that has a billboard on the moon, or so an advertising leaflet claims. I cycle around the quiet back streets of Asakusa, stop off for a rest outside the exciting World Bags and Luggage Museum. No idea. I randomly bump into a person I know from the Fuji TV show; he is stood talking to a man dressed as a tree. No idea.

treefingers[1]

Back at the hostel I chill out in my favourite room, the 4th floor laundry lounge. The room is actually an outdoor conservatory in a big tent. It features a ball pit, a lovely water fountain, and a bath tub full of soil. Cherry tomatoes grow from the soil. I sit on a chair and read the last thirty or so pages of Murakami’s ‘Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World’. It is here that I lose myself to the tranquillity of my surroundings. A staff member interrupts my serenity. She is here to do ‘maintenance’ on the ball pit, or so she tells me with a grin. She elegantly makes sure all the balls are neatly resting in the bathtub before leaving me in peace.

After finishing my book I pop over the road for a quick drink in A.S.A.B. I chat to the bar owner and ask him if he knows any good places to eat. “Yes,” he states matter-of-factly, “I draw you map.” He draws me a map. I thank him, pay, and leave the bar. His map is very accurate and I find the place with ease. Inside I take a stool at the bar and am handed an English menu, a nice surprise.

izaks[1]

So, from the top left I have a pot and saucer of Japanese mustard for dipping, fresh cabbage served on ice, a side salad, spring onions, rice, a white box, some odd tasting red pickles, edamame beans, and the star of the show, cutlassfish marinated in soy sauce. The set meal also comes with miso soup, but it is pork based so I ask to have my meal without. I drink two Suntory whisky highballs whilst I feast, and pay ¥2240.

Now, that white box. Natto. It has no place with the rest of the meal so I take it back to the hostel. On the way I buy a tube of salt and vinegar flavour Pringles. I eat the natto using chop sticks, I wrap three to five fermented soy beans around a crisp; the correct way to eat natto, probably. The natto smells so bad that it even comes with a sachet of strong smelling mustard, and some red sauce that just about cancels out the disappointing smell.

natto[1]

In the hostel I meet up with a couple of guys from Hong Kong, and Aaliya, the Canadian I met during my first week here. It is her last night in Japan, so we decide to drink. We go to a bar, closed. We go to another, they’ve stopped serving. At the third bar, Asakusa OTO, we are humbly welcomed inside. It is a sake bar selling Japanese rice wine. It tastes okay, better than the supermarket rubbish I am used to. Sayaka, the English speaking Japanese staff member asks me to go through her English menu and correct the twelve mistakes. The owner of the bar puts on the ‘most famous’ Britpop band ever, Ride. I tell him I’ve never heard of Ride. Instead he puts on The Smiths.

‘Girlfriend in a Coma’ plays in the background while I eat crushed ice with sweet sauces. Delicious. It is time to leave after about an hour of sake drinking. We go to pay and the owner refuses to take our money. He says I should tell more foreigners about his bar in exchange for the drinks he has given us. It’s the least I can do, I tell him, scribbling his website on the back of my hand.