Tag Archives: Sushi

Withdrawal & I

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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.

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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.

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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:

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

Mushroom With A View

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Today was supposed to be a day off writing, a day to myself. I wake up at 10 a.m. full of energy. I hire the hostel bicycle for two hours. Two hundred yen but I don’t mind. The bicycle is bright yellow but I don’t mind.

Fukuoka is massive, it reminds me of Tokyo; similar but of smaller scale. There are skyscrapers all over the place. Littered between the buildings, random glass boxes on street corners display ceramic artwork; poetry is written next to streams and etched into fountains. It feels like I am wandering around inside some giant outdoor art exhibition.

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As I cycle around I get a little lost. I find an area of just temples and shrines, tucked neatly away between traffic jams and chaos. After a long look around Fukuoka, I finally find a map and make my way back to the hostel, my two hour bicycle rental almost up.

After a Family Mart lunch of salmon onigiri and egg sandwiches, I do some work for a few hours, writing. I make plans to meet Amy and her friends outside Tenjin Station at half ten. At half Tenjin. I don’t know her friends, so it is nice of her to include me. The plan for this evening is ¥2000 all-you-can-drink karaoke, before going to see the festival at 4:59 a.m.

Amy also suggests a few places I should check out. With four hours to kill, I decide to follow her advice and head to Hakata Station, specifically the tenth floor. The early afternoon drizzle has cleared up, so there’s no need to carry around an umbrella all evening—a welcome bonus. As I take the lift, I notice twenty-two other people joining me; I am the tallest.

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On the tenth floor there is topiary everywhere, mostly rabbits and bears. ‘Against All Odds’ by Phil Collins blares from every speaker. There is a miniature train track but the train doesn’t seem to be in operation in the evening. Planes land at the nearby Fukuoka Airport, mountains watch in the background. The view is sensational.

There are gardens, waterfalls, fish, a viewing platform, and a shrine. The beauty of the place somewhat takes me aback; I almost forget that I am on the roof of a train station. I decide to stay for the setting sun at 7:29 p.m.

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I walk to Tenjin for food and to take in a bit of the nightlife. I forgot how much of a trek it was to get here; it takes me half an hour from Hakata. Outside a restaurant, I spot a plastic model of a bento box that looks amazing.

Inside, I sit at the bar. The fish is all set out behind glass in front of me. I order a set meal. It contains miso soup, vegetable tempura, sushi, a selection of pickles, potato salad, and a small Japanese omelette. I drink a beer and watch the chef carefully cut and prepare the fish.

The chef asks me if I am American. I tell him England and the atmosphere suddenly changes. Not that there was really a mood in the first place. It is difficult for me to explain. The chef just becomes a little more relaxed and begins to talk a little as he prepares my food.

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I don’t drink the miso soup, it has a pork broth. I eat everything else though. The sushi is excellent, very fresh. The mushroom tempura was, hands down, the finest food I’ve ever tasted. It was truly amazing—an exceptional delight. The batter, an exquisite blend of lightness and delicacy, achieved sheer perfection in its simplicity. With a beer my meal is ¥2808. This is actually the most expensive meal I think I have had in Japan. I tell the chef the food is ‘maiuu’ a slang word meaning ‘delicious’. Everyone laughs.

I meet Amy and her friends at the North Exit of Tenji Station. Our group consists of a total of fourteen people. To karaoke! As per usual in Japan, songs are selected using a computer screen, drinks are ordered using a phone. Someone is ordering a round, I ask for a highball. A translation issue occurs and am I handed four drinks instead of one. I can’t give them away.

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The karaoke is excellent value. You can order a drink and it arrives in under a minute. In Asakusa, the service at karaoke was incredibly slow. I first met Amy back in England at an open mic night, where she was performing; I somehow forgot just how well she can sing though. There is a really nice mix of Japanese, English, Canadian, French and American people in the group. We sing a lovely mix of Japanese and British pop classics.

After six hours of drinking (and free French fries), we walk back to Hakata for the Oiyamakasa main event of the Hakata Gion Yamakasa Festival.

The first team leaves the starting line at Kushida Shrine at 4:59 a.m. Thousands of semi-naked men wearing loincloths race through the streets carrying decorative one-tonne floats. The floats look spectacular. Spectators shout, ‘Oisa oisa,’ applaud, and splash the semi-naked men with water to keep them cool.

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At the festival I take far too many photographs of other people taking photographs. The turn out is amazing for so early in the morning; the streets crowded with crowds. We stay for maybe an hour.

I finally get back to my hostel at half six. Far too late a night, but absolutely worth it.

Global Tower, Beppu Park, Crocodile Hell

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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:

Dragonfly[1]

Welcome to Jazz Club … Groovy!

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The televised bike tour of Sumida has been cancelled due to the bad weather. The hostel manager says it will be rescheduled for the 17th of June. Last night I spent time with friends from last week returning from their travels across Japan. We used magnetic chopsticks to eat ‘old-fashioned style prawns’, drank plenty of beer, and finished the evening off at an all-night karaoke bar.

Today I meet up with a hungover Grant and a hungover Edwina. We walk to Ueno and take the Yamanote Line to Ikebukuro. Here we pass a restaurant named Spazio, before finally arriving at Namco Namja Town; an indoor theme park inside a shopping complex. We see a crane claw machine offering an ice cream as a prize. The machine costs ¥100. The ice cream is the same sold in Seven Eleven for ¥100. We walk through Gyoza Town which boasts 18 different stalls all selling the same thing, and head to an ice cream shop.

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For ¥520 we buy six scoops of ice cream chosen from a menu of about fifty strange flavours. We order salt of Okhotsk (seawater flavour), Aomori apple sherbet, double cheese, beef tongue, rose, and my favourite, coal ice cream. It contains ‘real’ coal, and leaves my mouth full of a strange coal dust.

We decide to order six more. Hokkaido Shirataki potato ice cream, shark fin noodle ice cream, Indian curry ice cream, tulip gelato, white shrimp gelato, and eel ice cream. Grant and Edwina don’t like the shark fin noodle ice cream, with its chunks of real shark fin. I pretend that I like it and eat the remainder of the scoop.

Leaving Namco Namja Town we see a Christmas tree, I remind myself that it is currently June. I have shark fin stuck in my teeth and start to feel a little sick. I buy a bottle of Milk Tea to wash away the bad taste.

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Changing at Ueno to the Tokyo Metro Ginza Line, we see three guys dressed all in white, and a sign inviting us to take photographs; I have no idea why they are here or what they are doing. Back at Tawaramachi Station I say goodbye to Edwina for the last time, and head back to the hostel with Grant. We arrange to meet at 7 p.m. to head out for some food.

Grant and I find a nearby sushi restaurant online. Inside there are no stools, just space for seven people to stand at a counter. Behind the counter are two sushi chefs. You shout your order, fish is sliced, rice is prepared, and food is placed on a wooden plate. Fresh fish, fresh seaweed, all prepared fresh within ten seconds of ordering. It is my first ever sushi in Japan and my first ever meal in a standing restaurant. The restaurant has an English menu and also offers whale meat, much to my disappointment.

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The restaurant is called Magurobito, literally translating to mean ‘Tuna Man’. I eat Sardine, Mackerel, Yellow Tail, Tuna Roll, and Soy Sauce Marinated Tuna. Seven pieces of fresh raw fish on rice, four California rolls, and a pint of beer. The meal costs us ¥1420 each. The best meal I have had in Japan so far.

We pay for an amazing meal and leave the restaurant. We get about two minutes away and Grant notices his receipt only includes the price of his fish. We head back to the restaurant and using Google Translate, we explain that we don’t think we’ve paid for our beer. The chef is very appreciative of our honestly, we pay for our beer, and he thanks us profusely.

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Gomez has recommended to me a bar that will be open all night and showing the football. We get there at 8 p.m. and it is closed. Just as we are leaving, a man on a bike shouts for us to stop. He is the bar owner and says he is just about to open. We decide to stay for one beer. Inside, there are two projectors and both will be showing every World Cup game, nothing to worry about. The bar also offers a selection of over 150 different cocktails, nothing to worry about. The owner reveals the bar’s name—A.S.A.B., an acronym for As Soon As Beerable.

On the way back to the hostel there is a full film crew. About twenty people holding microphones, lights, cameras, and action. I take out my camera and am instantly given a ‘no photograph’ hand gesture from a man who appears to be there to tell people not to take photographs. Back at the hostel Grant and I catch the last two songs from tonight’s Jazz trio.

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After the Jazz Club is over, the bar stays open. I make some new friends, including a cool guy from Iceland who has toured with Sigur Rós, and a Chilean guy who is thoroughly looking forward to his team beating Australia in the World Cup. The guitarist from the band hangs about, and the Jazz Club becomes an open mic night. My plan to go to bed early and get up at 4 a.m. shattered by whisky and live music. I eventually head to bed, shattered, at an indistinguishable hour.