Show My Gear, the Policeman Said

I am standing in Seven Eleven, queueing up to buy my morning coffee. The man two before me in the queue smiles and nods as our glances cross. I don’t recognise him, yet he keeps his eyes fixed on mine, quietly staring. Eventually, he points to his eyes and says, “Your eyes are blue.” He seems to be in a state of amazement, “Europa?” he asks.
I decide not to correct him, despite me not being from one of the moons of Jupiter. “Yes,” I say, “England.”
He pauses for thought for a time before asking, “Are you happy?” His question catches me off guard, and I have to give it a certain degree of thought. Perhaps I look a little miserable because I am standing in Seven Eleven at 9 a.m. I eventually reply with a yes. “Good, you should be happy, have a nice day.” With that, he pays for his can of beer and leaves the store.

I cycle over to Asakusa, to Senso-ji Temple. To mark the four-year anniversary of the Great East Japan Earthquake, the temple has opened up its secret garden and gallery to the public. ¥300 to enter, and all the proceeds will be donated to support the ongoing recovery. A sign at the entrance says, “There, it is an old beautiful Japanese garden made 400 years ago, it can take a walk.”

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I have often seen these gardens on the maps around the temple, and even tried to find them once or twice, but to no avail. Now it is clear to me why; they were a secret. I start queueing just before they open at 10 a.m. Waiting in line once again, but with nobody asking me about being from Jupiter, I stay calm. Eventually, the doors open, and I pay my ¥300 entry fee.

It isn’t just the gardens that are open to the public for the next two months, but also a gallery of artwork depicting samurai and legends. Good quality artwork; dated. No photography is allowed inside the gallery, but for anyone in Tokyo right now or in the coming months, I urge you to visit. It is for a great cause, and the artwork is stunning. After wandering around inside for a time, I head out into the gardens, where my breath is stolen away by the beauty.

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Why these gardens are normally closed is beyond me. Prior to the earthquake, the gardens were visited exclusively by noblemen. One thousand square metres of garden, made by an eminent gardener in the early 17th century, sit behind hidden walls. A small building known as Denbou-in stands in the garden, a place where priests from the temple would train in Buddhist discipline. It also became a lodging place for the many nobles that came here to visit. I wander around the circuit, following the route of the signs, and take great care with the multiple signs instructing me to, “Please stop walking, drink in the garden!”

After enjoying the scenery, I head, as usual, to Cafe Byron Bay. Today, I am taking part in a television show starring Yoshio Kojima, a comedian I previously met back in August.

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The show features a second comedian, Udai Iwasaki. Very little information can be found about this man. Apparently, he won an award in 2013 for being the funniest man in Japan. He is in a comedy group known as Kamomental, which translates to mean Duck Metal, and his blood type is AB. When researching Yoshio Kojima, I am not at all surprised to find a mention of his blood type, a slight obsession in Japan similar to horoscopes. For the record, his blood type is O.

The show is in English and is a tour of Yoshio Kojima’s favourite neighbourhood, Asakusa. “This coffee is very comfortable,” he says, sipping on his latte. Everyone gets interviewed about where they are from or why they came to Japan before Yoshio Kojima treats us to his famous catchphrase, performed again in English. After that, the show ends. I get a chance to talk to the comedians a little after the shooting. Both of them have excellent English ability and are both very nice people.

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The show will air on CS TV Asahi on either May 10th or 24th, but the television people haven’t decided yet. Overall, the shooting was good fun, but I am not sure how much of myself will be included in the final cut.

I leave the cafe and start walking toward my house. As part of my application process to stay in Japan a little longer, I have to get my photograph taken. I find a photo booth that offers the size of photograph that I require, and after inserting my ¥900, I discover that the booth speaks two languages, Japanese and American. Call me naïve, but I didn’t know that there was a language called American. Regardless, a nice man speaks to me in English after I select this option, photographs are snapped, and finally, I am given the chance to modify my photographs. With summer just a few months away, I opt for the sun tan option. “Your photograph will be ready in nineteen seconds,” says the voice in English. Very precise.

As I near my house, two policemen surround me, and in broken English, they ask me for my identification, look at every card in my wallet, search my pockets, write things down, look at me with suspicion, then they apologise, get back on their one-speed bicycles, and disappear; presumably to harass somebody else. A part of me questions their selection process, and for whatever reason, I become adamant that it has something to do with me being from Europa.

International Food and Beverage Exhibition

Today, I am at Makuhari Messe Convention Centre for Foodex Japan. In its 40th year, the event stands as the biggest trade show for food and beverage in Asia, featuring three thousand exhibitors from seventy-nine different countries. I received a private invitation, allowing me to hand over a business card at the entrance and receive my journalist pass, thus saving me the ¥5000 public entry fee. The first challenge I encounter at the event is their strict no-photography policy. They even threaten ejection from the event for anyone caught taking photographs, sneaking in animals, or attending solely for free food and drink.

Naturally, I adhere strictly to the rules, refraining from releasing any concealed animals into the exhibition halls or taking sneaky snaps of the event from a balcony above. And, of course, my primary purpose for attending is certainly not to indulge in the free samples of food and drink offered by the three thousand exhibitors. Today, all food and drink are complimentary, with stallholders actively encouraging me to sample their offerings.

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I start with cheese. I seldom eat cheese in Japan, so when given the opportunity to be an official judge in a packaging and taste competition, I seize the chance. The competition involves comparing thirty-one cheeses from Japan. Just as I’m about to get serious about my judging responsibilities, the comedian in charge reminds me to take it seriously before asking me to select a wooden stick from a box. “Careful for electric shocks,” the man says, “this is high technology, like a supercomputer.” So much for taking things too seriously.

The cheese I have randomly selected is a Brazilian cream cheese made in Japan. I assess the packaging (somewhat basic) and evaluate the unique selling point of the product (non-existent). Next, I can choose any two other cheeses to rate in comparison. I opt for two cheeses that I’m eager to try. Following the rating, a taste test ensues, providing me with the opportunity to score the flavour and determine the likelihood of a future purchase. Interestingly, the cheese I selected, which appears to be the most expensive among the thirty-one, turns out to be the worst cheese I have ever tried.

After savouring the cheese, I crave a drink, prompting me to head for a cup of tea.

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Unfortunately, the Yogi Tea stand offers their sample in the form of a tea bag. No hot water here. I have a chat with Sada-Anand Khalsa, a self proclaimed Yogi Tea Ambassador. His beard is better than mine, and his tea is apparently very wonderful. As I talk to him, he appears distracted, distant, and looks like he is about to fall off his stool. He’s probably had a few too many cups of his bedtime organic tea product, no doubt.

I continue exploring the red-carpeted route, treating myself to devil fruits and açaí berry smoothies. In Pakistan, I’m given the chance to try six-billion-year-old sea salt, and in Egypt, I indulge in some tasty salted peanuts. Upon reaching Japan, I find myself surrounded by microphones and cameras, as I become the subject of a television show—quite ironic, considering the event’s no photography or recording equipment policy. During the interview, I’m asked to sample Japanese food to capture my authentic reaction. However, they choose edamame, a dish I consume almost weekly, making it challenging for me to convey a genuine response to the familiar taste of beans.

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After the interview, I head to England to enjoy a scone. However, I notice that the stalls here are manned by individuals with uninviting expressions and disappointed faces. Unlike everywhere else I’ve stopped, where warm smiles and polite conversation welcomed me, it’s a different experience in England. Disheartened, I make the decision to leave and never return. Instead, I choose to visit the friendly land of Scotland for some delectable scallops. Later, I make my way to the welcoming Wales to enjoy a sample of a beer I’m already familiar with—Dark Side of the Moose.

In Austria, I take a moment to chat with a friendly man about beer. The Flying Brewery proves to be wonderful and charming. After expressing a clear interest in sampling copious amounts of their free alcohol, the amiable man turns to his colleague and exclaims, “He wants to try them all!” This marks perhaps the turning point in my day, leading me into the delightful world of free alcohol. The beers here are fantastic, and I relish each and every one. The brewery even gifts me a set of twelve coasters and poses for a photograph. While a part of me considers that the journalist pass around my neck might have influenced their hospitality, another part of me believes that they are genuinely kind and passionate about their craft.

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With an ever-increasing thirst for beer, I head over to the only place that can satisfy my taste: Belgium. After wandering around in beer heaven for about an hour and sampling familiar delights such as Stella Artois and Hoegaarden, I move on to some of my favourite drinks—Delirium Tremens, Kriek, and Chimay.
“One more glass, sir?” says the man at the Chimay stand.
“Why, thank you, sir,” I reply, feeling very humbled and slightly drunk.

I continue to explore, observing snakes in bottles of miscellaneous liquid and engaging with companies solely present at the event to secure a Japanese distributor. After a bit of stumbling, I find myself in Mexico, enticed by amusingly shaped bottles of expensive tequila.

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AsomBroso is a luxury tequila from Tequila, Mexico, and one bottle costs around ¥7000. After sampling a small glass, I strike up a conversation with the friendly man manning the booth. A simple mention of the word ‘journalist’ earns me a second glass and an invitation to take a photograph of his display. The tequila is, in fact, the best I have ever tasted—good quality stuff.

In Finland, I chat with a nice lady about the health benefits of bilberry. In Indonesia, I indulge in fresh tuna sashimi. Thailand offers me samples of multiple hot sauces served with various delicious canapés. However, my favourite dish of the day comes from Malaysia—shrimp noodles in a spicy sauce broth that comes with a strong warning: ‘Extremely hot, eat carefully and very slowly.’ As I wander through multiple stores offering sweets, dried fruits, organic chocolate, and health products, I somehow take a wrong turn and end up in Australia. Unfortunately, there’s no attention from the yawning people here, no free samples, only misery.

Finally, I explore what China has to offer. I am surprised by the contrast between China and Australia; the politeness expressed by the people here at such a late time in the day, and the complete lack of yawning and misery is a big surprise to me. Everyone wants to speak to me, everyone is friendly, and of course, everyone wants me to try their products. One store I particularly enjoyed was Shantou Sweet House Foodstuff.

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This Chinese confectioner offers many interestingly named products, such as Brain Licker, Nipple Lipstick Tooth Candy, and Plastic Fruity Sour Sour Stick. “Wait here for a moment,” says the stallholder, following our long conversation about sugar. He returns with a huge bag of sweets, including strawberry-flavoured popping candy that comes with two free stickers.

Leaving China, it feels like I’ve just been on a six-hour tour around the whole world. I exit the event and take the free shuttle bus over to Kaihin-Makuhari Station. For some reason, a woman in the train station hands me a free sample of a doughnut. Free samples are the last thing I can enjoy right now; food is the very last thing on my mind.

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Back at home, as I empty out my full pockets of the many free gifts and brochures, it reminds me of a lost childhood memory of Halloween. I still have an awful lot more food to eat, but I can’t really complain. I enjoyed the event, the food, the beverages, on what has been quite a wonderful day in Chiba.

Cycling into Locals

‘Cycling into Locals’ is the name of today’s bicycle tour. The name amuses me. I head just outside the hostel to a bicycle rental shop. It costs me ¥300 to rent a bike for eight hours, dirt cheap. The minimum fare for a train is ¥170, even if I take just one stop, the lovely purple bicycle I’ve chosen today costs me less than a return train ticket. I will certainly be taking advantage of this service again in future.

There are seven hostel guests taking part in the tour, a TV crew of four people, and staff members Gomez and Keina from the hostel. We meet up at 10 a.m. for a briefing, before finally departing some ten minutes later. The thirteen of us take to our bicycles, and we begin to head in the direction of the Sumida River. Here we see Tokyo Skytree from a position where you can see a second Skytree in the reflection of the Asahi building. Apparently people come to this spot all the time to take this famous shot.

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Next we cycle over the river to Ushijima Shrine. Here we do a cleansing ritual and a prayer ritual before being invited into the main hall by the priest. He tells us about the history of the shrine and then hits a massive drum a few times. Outside the shrine there is a statue of a cow. The cow statue is said to have magical healing properties. I touch my throat, then I touch the cow’s throat. My sore throat will now heal quicker thanks to the magic statue. Cowabunga!

We stop off at a Japanese tea house for a traditional snack. For ¥300 we are served sweet bean paste wrapped in a salt-pickled cherry blossom leaf, and a cup of green tea. The leaves have been picked from the banks of the Sumida River. After being filmed eating some leaves, it is time to leave.

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Hatonomachi Dori Shotengai is a historical street featuring very local shopping and various small art museums and craft houses. We visit a shop where a woman has spent the last fifty years hand making small model geisha’s, which she sells for a small fortune. Next we enter a small shop selling badminton rackets decorated with kabuki theatre performers. We are given the history of Badminton. It turns out it all began in Japan as a game called Hanetsuki, before arriving in England and becoming the sport that it is known as today.

We swing by Kira-Kira Tachibana Street. There is a local street market here, surrounded by really old houses and some interesting side streets. I see a stall selling a watermelon for ¥2200. Next our tour takes us to Mukojima-Hyakkaen Gardens, the entrance fee is ¥150. We go to a traditional cafe and eat ¥500 rice balls with a sour plum topping served with a really tasty miso soup. We are then served a complimentary glass of a bright yellow liquid. It smells like flowers and tastes very sweet.

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The cameras stop rolling and we take a short break. We are free to explore the gardens on our own for thirty minutes. I spend fifteen of the minutes trying to photograph a dragonfly in flight. We regroup and return to our bicycles. The final stop on our tour is Tokyo Skytree. Here we are each individually interviewed about the tour. We are given the option to stay and explore Tokyo Skytree Town on our own, or head back to the hostel. I decide to head back after an exhausting six hours of cycling into locals.

Back at the hostel Björk is playing through the speakers. I arrange to meet Conor, a friend from England I met almost two weeks ago. He’s back in Tokyo for two nights after travelling around Japan and South Korea. We meet at my hostel and go out in search for some food. We find a vending machine restaurant. I order hot soba noodles in a soy based broth. The noodles are topped with tempura vegetables, seaweed, and an egg. It costs just ¥480.

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After food, we wander past a lit up Senso-ji, before heading for a drink. On the way, we see a kabuki theatre. A show has just finished and there are about ten people standing outside in full costume and makeup. I decide that I will come back here in a few days time to watch a show. After a drink I say goodbye to Conor and we head our separate ways to our hostels. At the hostel I go straight to my room to sleep off a very busy day of cycling and sightseeing.

Coffee and TV

Today, the weather is a delightful 28°C, clear with occasional sun showers. I meet Andy at breakfast for a cup of coffee before we bid our final farewells. I then decide to walk to Ueno. It’s really quiet here so I keep walking and arrive in Akihabara. Here I go to the top of Akihabara UDX, a huge building full of restaurants. I go to the 4th floor to check out the Tokyo Anime Centre but the sign on the door says, “Today has become a closed day.” After a wasted journey I get the feeling that today will be somewhat uneventful.

Back at Ueno I stumble across Ameya-Yokocho, translated to Candy Shop Alley; it is an outdoor market of about 200 shops next to Ueno Station. Here I see loads of shoes and clothes shops mixed with pachinko parlours and restaurants. I see a section of the market closed off and about ten firefighters standing around looking very bored, presumably there was a fire here. Every store seems to have employed a person to stand outside to shout at passers-by, trying to encourage them to check out their wares. I wander the market aimlessly for about an hour, before getting bored and grabbing a coffee and a sandwich from Family Mart. For no obvious reason the sandwich doesn’t have a crust.

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Back at the hostel all but one person in my room has gone. Six beds are empty. I can’t really be bothered to head back out into the humid streets just yet, so I decide to do a little job hunting. I sign up for a student teacher matching website. I set my fee at an overpriced ¥5000 per hour for coffee shop conversational lessons. I ask Daisuke why my sandwich had no crust, and he just laughs and says something about how biting into crust is bad and that soft is better.

Back at my room I meet the one person who is still here. A Brazilian named Marcos. We chat for a while about Japan and traveling in general and he tells me that he is a published author. He shows me his travel book, it looks very professional. Unfortunately for me, I can’t read Portuguese.

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I head out for my third visit to my new favourite restaurant, Mizuguchi. As I take my seat I am given a small bowl of octopus sashimi in seaweed as an appetiser. I then order deep fried breaded salmon; it is served with a salad garnish and homemade potato salad, fresh Wasabi, and a selection of pickles. I also order a bowl of rice and a beer. It’s a lot of food but a long day of walking around has made me very hungry. The total cost is a bargain ¥1350.

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Back at the hostel I bump into Gomez, the manager. He tells me about a television event happening on Thursday morning. I enthusiastically sign up, not wanting to miss an opportunity. I am not to say anything else on the subject for now.

My earlier instinct of an uneventful day was correct. I finish the night with a couple of beers in the English bar, bid farewell to Matt and Kaes who leave tomorrow, and head back to the hostel to take a much needed early night. I am also now convinced there is a ghost in the elevator.