It’s amazing to think that the whole time I was travelling – immersing myself in new cultures, trying new activities and flitting from place to place – I always managed to find time to update my blog but since I’ve been back in the “real world” I’ve somehow not found the time to create the last few entries. Somehow the day-to-day grind of being a feckless, unemployed bum has precluded my ability to write the last posts. Whether it be the occasional foray into looking for worthwhile employment (a tricky endeavour when despite 18-months away from the workplace I’m still not sure what I want to do – and any major change of direction results in problems such as lack of experience and skills); the (what seemed interminable) search for a new place to call my own; or even basking in the park reading a book during the UK’s recent heatwave, have all conspired to stop those final words being submitted to the interwebz. And then, of course, there has been my recent attempt to learn Java by coding a computer version of Yaniv (maybe one day coming to an Android phone near you), the game I played so much whilst travelling which has kept me busy too. Who knew that grappling with complicated GUIs using the swing class or trying to do simple things like print the output in UTF-8 format (so that I could display the symbols for playing cards correctly: ♠♣♥♦) would cause me so much pain and anguish? Maybe the subconscious reason for my tardiness is that once those last two blog entries are written I have finally drawn a line under my wanderjahre. Even now I keep reminding myself that this time last year I was sunning myself in Mancora with Andy or cursing Julia for the double-whammy of taking me on another high-altitude trek through Santa Cruz (having sworn after my Kilimanjaro experience with Hiten that I’d never put myself through that again!) AND the worse offence of continually beating me at Yaniv. But anyway, without further ado, here is the penultimate blog entry:
My last weekend at the hostel in Tokyo promised to be busy. All the dorms were full so I had to check into a single private room. If I’d expected this to be luxurious I was sadly disappointed: there was barely enough room in the little box for the mattress on the floor, let alone my luggage; and the lack of windows added to the prison cell feel. Still, at least unlike a dorm, I could leave my laptop charging up whilst I wasn’t there. After dropping off my luggage and grabbing a quick shower it was time to head to Shibuya to meet Lisa at the Hachikō dog statue. Unfortunately, everyone else in Tokyo also seemed to have arranged to meet there and it was much harder than expected to find the tall, blonde form of Lisa than you might expect in the midst of a crowd of short, dark-haired Japanese. Telfort’s risible roaming agreements had once more left me without the ability to use my mobile in an emergency but we found each other eventually and set off for some dinner.
It was great to catch up with Lisa and gossip about all the people that we knew from the previous June back in Colombia but after a great dinner of Japanese “tapas” and some fruity, sour cocktails the evening was over much earlier than I expected and it was back to hostel for the night. The care-free party animal Lisa who I knew from Medellin was now weighed down by an hour-hungry job and exhausted at the end of a long week. Did this fate await me when I went back to work for the man? I wondered. Fortunately, apart from the annoying omnipresence of overly-camp Paul (see previous postings) in the hostel lounge, there were actually some normal people there and I chatted to Stephen quite a bit. I was particularly excited when he revealed that there was an even-newer version of my camera available – the TZ20 – and since mine had been behaving erratically for some time now I decided to pick one up in the electronic city of Akihabara. Unfortunately, after much fruitless searching, I discovered that only Kanji models were available – the English ones weren’t going to be for sale until the next month. In light of what happened to my camera a week later in India, this was probably for the best.
Karaoke - The end of Under The Bridge
The next evening I went to karaoke with a Norwegian couple that I’d met in Kyoto. Despite my best efforts around the hostel I failed to conscript anyone else to join us, although a newly arrived French couple did briefly contemplate it, and the three of us returned to Shibuya in search of a suitable venue. We probably walked past 5 before we finally noticed the words “karaoke” blazing back at us in neon from various alleyways. It was an extremely strange experience – we were locked away in our own private room – and it reminded me more of Singstar on the Playstation than karaoke as we know it in Europe in front of the general public. Unfortunately all the video footage of my wonderful renditions of Red Hot Chilli Peppers, Frank Sinatra and an ill-judged Wham request (“Last Christmas” hardly the correct season either!) are now lost in time and space. I know a lot of you are thanking the Lord for small mercies at this potential assault on your eardrums.
Despite the fact that the Norwegian couple had threatened to go home with the last subway, we soothed our weary vocal chords with a few drinks in a bar just down the road from the main station. We met a friendly Aussie couple there and a couple of French expat girls who, despite joining us at our table, then spent the whole night chatting up some Japanese guys, before suddenly realising that they were way too drunk and going home early. We also chatted (often with the aid of a pen and paper and some Pictionary skills) to a Japanese girl who made Pokemon and Dragon Ball Z toys for a living. After a while in the bar, during which time we’d easily missed the last train home, we decided to head over to Roppongi Hills and check out a nightclub there. Unfortunately here too (much like the French girls and the Australian girl) the alcohol soon overcame the Norwegian girl and after arriving at our destination, we quickly made the call to head back to the hostel without even stepping out of the taxi. Considering we were going to get the last train home, however, our 2:30am finish was much better than I expected. Fortunately she didn’t need to make use of my toque as an impromptu sick bag either.
The Aussies and the Norwegian girl (all names now forgotten!)
For the rest of my time in Tokyo I went to Yoyogi Park – famed as a place where all the alternatively dressed people hang out. I don’t know if I got there too late but apart from a lot of strange Elvis lookalikes and ornate dogs that looked like they should have been on Crufts being taken for walkies, I didn’t see anything too edgy. I also decided to visit an Onsen – the Japanese hot springs. There was a big sign outside forbidding yakuza and tattoos. I never realised before that both were crimes of equal parity.
Dancing Elvises in Yoyogi park
My destination was the Oedo-Onson Monogatari: a posh onsen resort in the Southeast of the city by the Telecom Centre and, after checking in, I picked up my yukata robe and sash belt and headed to the changing rooms. I thought it might be a bit of a challenge putting the yukata on, but it came with pictorial instructions and other possible faux pas such as whether I should wear underwear beneath the robe (I should!) were explained in English next to the pictures.
Suitably garbed, I first went to visit the outdoor foot bath (fortunately, given the cold weather, they also provided additional outdoor robes) and then it was on to the main event: the single-sex springs. Here too, I was unsure if I was supposed to take the towel into the baths with me or not but the helpful attendant told me to leave it behind and so, decked out only in the clothes that I was born with, I headed into the baths proper. Whilst this might once have upset my British sensibilities, a decade of living amongst the less prudish Dutch, meant that I wasn’t particularly bothered as I strode sans vêtements into the springs. Besides, if the old saw about Asians and their magnitude is to be believed, I hardly had anything to be embarrassed about. After wallowing in various different baths of different temperatures and chalkiness I decided to splash out for a body scrub in the adjoining room. Any hopes of some cute Japanese nymphet running her soapy hands over my body were quickly dashed by the sight of my older attendant. Still, it was an interesting experience, although I think a massage is probably more fun and relaxing.
Asahi Brewery Headquarters
I didn’t do a great deal else in Tokyo in my last days. I went to Asakusa to see the infamous Phillipe Strack-designed Asahi Breweries headquarters topped with the distinctive golden flame (or is it a turd or some discoloured sperm?), followed by a boat trip down the river and then onto the tallest building in Tokyo – the Tokyo Metropolitan Government building – to view the crepuscular skyline. This was free entry, as opposed to the more popular Tokyo tower, so it appealed to my backpacker sensibilities. I was also supposed to meet up with a friend of a friend, Matt, but we never quite got our diaries in order. I did go to the gyoza place in Omotesando that he and Laura had recommended so highly – it was definitely a great insider tip, the restaurant didn’t have any English displayed on the outside and I would have walked past it on my own – and washed multiple portions of one of my favourite Japanese foods with a few beers and some sake.
Afterwards I found a local Japanese bar where I was lucky enough to find both a barman and a customer who spoke passable English and I discussed my travels with them (including showing lion pictures and Machu Picchu on my laptop). The customer was a voice actor for animé films and we talked about her experiences there. Eventually it was time for me to catch the last subway home and I headed back to the hostel for my final night. In the lounge I sat up drinking beers with Stephen and a big group of Australians. One of the Aussies was thinking of becoming a stand-up comedian and for a moment it looked like he might actually give us an impromptu performance; in the end he resorted to doing it in the Aussies’ dorm – away from people that he didn’t know – so we only heard about it from one of the other Aussies, Paulette, later. Finally it was time for my last night’s sleep in Japan. More so than any of the other wonderful places I visited, Japan is definitely a country that I want to see again – although in retrospect given the earthquake, tsunami and radiation; it probably is a good thing that my stay was shorter than I originally planned. The next day I would be flying to India for my final week on the road.
