Saying Good-Bye to Japan

Well, that ends that. Japan is all behind me now, as my butt is sitting against the cold tiled floor of the Beijing International Airport. This is a lesson in not believing the internet, and doing proper planning, and just one of those learn as you go type things.

I had a ticket to Hong Kong that transferred through Beijing. I thought about ditching the second half, and just going straight to Beijing to start my Chinese adventure – hit up Hong Kong on the way out. However, when I checked the internet it said that you couldn't claim your luggage if you had an ongoing ticket. The reason for this, baggage claim was after customs – and you couldn't get through customs without a visa. And since, when you were checking in, they asked where you were going, (back in Japan) you couldn't say you wanted the claim your luggage, as in theory you'd never be leaving the airport.

Still with me on this? Well it's a lie. A bold faced lie. Against all odds, China offers a one day visa to people passing through the airport. So if you want to say you've seen China, without getting a visa, just get a layover here and go explore for the one free day allotted to you. Just be sure you make it back on time, yeah?

So in theory I could have got out, grabbed my gear, and been done with it. I have a hostel booked in Hong Kong, but I could cancel that and then start here anyway – however, I have an exit flight booked, and more importantly, my bags are checked through to Hong Kong (in theory – I'm always a little worried about these things.)

So here I sit on the floor of Beijing International Airport (by the way, there's a stamp here – so potentially the stamp madness that began in Japan will continue through China) hoping not to be disturbed, or – you know – kicked out. I don't know where they'd kick me – but somewhere?

I'm not sleeping, so I should have that going for me. I have enough computer videos to keep me occupied, and I slept on the four hours from Tokyo to here – I figure I stay awake seven more hours now, and then sleep the four to Hong Kong and I'll be set.

All I need to do is hang out here, and make sure I don't doze at a terrible time, thus leading to a missed flight.

There's an hourly hotel in the airport, but it's in a currency I've never seen before (It's not CNY, maybe it's another three letters for it, but I don't want to guess at that.) Even if it was Yuan, it would still cost one hundred American for six hours of rest. A Japanese Love Hotel in the heart of Shibuya would have cost less.

And would have come with see through hot tubs, and themed... items.

So no thanks hotel.

Now, it's not like I started my day here – no, it started way back in Japan, closing out what had been a fantastic almost-four-weeks.

Around ten I dragged myself out of bed, kicking and screaming, and thrown myself into the shower. The shower, heated by a gas... thing... hidden somewhere. All I know is I press a button on a plastic remote, set the controls to 40, and watch as a little red flame dances back and forth, indicating that the water is heating. Then the shower. The warm warm shower, in the otherwise chilly house. Not that it was actually chilly, but compared to my sanctuary buried under woolly blankets, and giant duvets, anything not in perfect equilibrium with my body temperature would be considered cold.

And there I sat for quite some time, trying to get my head back together after the previous night. Curse you karaoke, curse you! Tempting with your offer of song, and good times. But always making waking up the next day a little more difficult than it needs to be.

And I had things to do. Important things. Like pack. Packing is a pretty big deal before saying good-bye to one country, and heading into the next. Mostly this was just stuffing clothes into bags, and putting bags into other bags. All freshly washed clothes, too, I must add. Yes I was very graciously given the opportunity to have my clothes laundered on a regular basis. Why I nearly wore a new outfit every day. I even cycled through my two pants and shorts within a two week period. I don't think that had happened yet on this trip.

Clothes, check – random items strewn along coffee table over the past two weeks? Check. What was left? Ohh yeah, printing off all my flight information, and all my hostel directions. The best part was the hostel that instructed me to “print off a map” to it, as the walking directions were simply, “get off at this subway station, and walk.” That map was nowhere to be found. I'll deal with that later, that's still a week or two away.

I did have to compress fourteen pages of text down to six, as that's how many sheets of paper were in the printer (I later learned more existed... but I knew nothing of this at the time. Plus, as it happened, I needed exactly six after squishing, so using more just would have been wasteful.)

With that done, I was ready. Ready to book on out of this area. The time? Twelve Thirty in the afternoon. Time to move out.

Calling my buddy to get him up, out of bed, in similar condition to myself was a hard thing to do. I'd rather have left him sleeping, but after being a great host I needed to say good-bye and wish him well, and all that jazz. So handshakes, promises to return, and all that and I was out the door.

Of all the places I've told myself I'll come back to, some day, I realize that it's probably only Japan to which I'll actually return.

All the places in Europe that I loved? It would be great to see them again – but there are just so many other places left to go to. Alright – maybe Germany, Germany was pretty sweet. And Paris – that was a good town. A pretty big deal. Still, if I never set foot in Germany or France ever again, I won't be shocked. This is a somewhat upsetting realization. The reality of what's going down.

I would like to point out that after sitting on a way too hot Air China flight, I'm now in a delightfully frosty airport. It's my perfect temperature, and I'd like to give a big thank you to PEK for knowing how to set your thermostat.

Out the door, down to Lawson's to buy a bottle of Shampoo (the one I bought in the States really did not last all that long.) It was not a two-in-one and for the next few weeks, while it lasts, I will have to suffer through unconditioned hair that feels stringy and strawy. And it will be upsetting. Oh sure, I'll get used to it. Get used to it like sleeping on buses, and airplanes, and on cold tiled floors. And maybe one day I'll think – hey – I never need conditioner again. But somewhere, somewhere deep in side, the desire for soft touchable hair will be screaming, screaming, screaming!

My last meal at Lawson's was kinda sad too.

Onto the train for Shibuya station. What a great change-over station. Nothing like Shibuya crossing to make you realize you're in Tokyo. The tourists were out today. I don't know where they're coming from? Maybe University is ending and they're starting to get out and about, but I'd not seen that many white people all in one place for weeks.

I took a few last photos, and then headed off to the JR line, over to Ueno. On the way I finished reading Shopaholic takes Manhattan. Yes, I'd not mentioned that I was reading this book – just one of the exciting details to get lost in the shuffle of the one day, three week, blog writing marathon. But I had been. And now I'm finished it. And as much as I know it will make me angry, I want to read the third one.

I hate this character – this... Becky. I do, she's an idiot who somehow knows financial stuff, but aside from that is a complete fool who is prejudice, and petty, and suffers from terrible addictions that no one has ever tried to help her through. Everything she gets, she falls into – she's lucky. That's all. But at heart, while she wants to be a good person, she deserves every terrible thing she gets.

I think she may make me more angry than Frodo – all those dead Hobbits are your fault, you Ghandi-esque mini man! Well I'm not sure on that count. Frodo made me pretty mad too.

Anyway, that's over with now.

From Ueno I walked to the Keisei Ueno station and grabbed the 1000yen train to Narita. This is the cheapest way to the airport, and not highly advertised. Make sure you look it up. It takes seventy five minutes, rather than an hour – but the savings... the savings.

I slept most of the way to the airport, unable to read Jurassic Park (which I've been slowly making my way through – not wanting to finish it, as I needed it for the stamping. But now that I know there may be stamps here in China, it begs the question: do I really want to finish it now? Or do I need to take it with me still? We shall see how often these stamps are discovered.)

At the airport I discovered that the economy check in for AirChina was shut down. Why? It looked, at first, like an important person was on their way to check in. Clustering around him, as he walked, they held cameras and were shouting questions. This seemed a reasonable hypothesis at first – but when the exact same thing happened a second, then a third time, and I noticed another camera man trailing behind, I realized they were filming a movie. Ugh – whatever, just let me check in!

Finally let through, I then discovered my flight was delayed, and headed off for my last McPork, and Shaka Shakas (unless they have them here in China – oh what a magical dream that could be.)

Alright, what's going on? The same woman has walked past me three times. She always walks from my back, to in front of me, and then enters a door just past the phone bank in front of me. She never walks the other way. There mst be an alternate exit – but still, it's weird. And now that I check I can't really see the door. It must be there.

Clearly.

With my remaining six hundred yen I was going to go and buy some more McFood – normally it goes to earrings. But no one in this country wears or sells them.

Seriously – she walked by again!

Hello Kitty earrings would be popular, what about little paper crane earings? I'd buy those too – cute, right? But no. They don't sell them. They're not for me, by the by. I don't believe in punching holes through my flesh. But I have no problem supporting people who do. Ouch.

So on my way to buy McFood I saw a capsule machine selling these little Star Wars things. Stew, back in the Tokyo HMV, got the best one (in my opinion). It was the Angry Han and cute Chewie. I was not so lucky, but at least I didn't get '3POed. I ended up grabbing the Luke and Leia, and the super-secret Vader and Anakin. Sure it's the rare one, and all – but what matters about that once I leave Japan? No one will know. All they will know is that Haden Christianson has invaded my toys! Noooooo! (Just like he screamed at the end of that third bloody movie. Ugh. Yes I know it wasn't his voice, but it was his stupid shaking motions.)

This was better than McChickens.

Then onto the flight, silence in the air, and down on the ground. Welcome to China!

All the people who had been so quiet, and so polite on the flight were now feeling their way back to their home country. Let the screaming, the shouting, the pushing, and the rushing begin. My god. China. First impressions? It's like Japan gone mad.

Well, off to watch some Venture Brothers now. I hear a can of soda open, and it strikes me that even if I wanted one (I do) I can't get one... I have no money from this country. Sigh.

Go team Venture!

The Tokyo Sky Tree

Waking up on my last day in city. I would have rather slept well past noon. Mind you, when I woke up then I'd just have felt like I wasted my day, so it was probably for the best.

Why was I waking? Was it to go see the festival where a number of sumo wrestlers hold babies to make them cry, thus warding away evil spirits? No it was not, though that event was also taking place in a different part of the city. I was off to the orchestra. With three other people, none of who really seem all that into the orchestra. And I wasn't either but I was into cultural experiences, and I do like live music.

In preparation for this event I thought it would be best if I leave my pack at home. No camera, no books, just me and the music. Let this be a lesson – no matter how freeing you think it will be to not have your camera, you will miss it and you will regret not having brought it with you. Only for those beyond the addiction to photography should ever attempt such a feat. Even they will, ultimately, be missing out.

The one hour subway ride? Less than ideal. Yes, I had a seat, but with no book time simply existed. I put myself into a thought-based trance, trying to think of everything I still had to plan to round out my year, and time seemed to kick right along from that point on. But, once more, point noted... don't leave your book behind.

At the orchestra we filed in, grabbing our general admission seats, trying to tell ourselves that we would not fall asleep.

One by one everyone nodded off – the most obvious being he who had his program notes resting on his lap, which went crashing to the floor during a particularly silent bit. Still, he was not to be blamed. All around peoples eyes were closed, perhaps begun as a way to experience the music, but the lifeless lean and spittle forming at the corners of their mouths gave evidence that it went far beyond that not.

It was not only in the audience that things were dropped either. On stage one woman dropped her bow, and the guy in the back crashing the symbols together hit them too hard, the right half of the pair leaving his hand, flying through space slow enough that you could recognize the range of emotion from shock, terror, regret, and awkward awareness before it smashed against the ground, one extra note out of place.

That part? It was my favourite part.

It dawned on me that I did not dislike lyric-less music. While I may not be the biggest fan of classical music, one of the pieces was quite agreeable, if only because it reminded me of a piece from Final Fantasy. Were I to put together my own orchestral set list many of the pieces would come from games – though not all, movies would have their place too.

And I wondered, what is it about those pieces that connects with me? Why not the classical works that are said to be most excellent?

Emotional investment? Understanding? Simply that the music of today is 'better' quote-unquote. I'm not sure, but hey – it wasn't half bad!

For what it's worth I think I was the only person to not fall asleep. I did close my eyes under the prompting that it would best allow me to connect with the songs. This was dangerous advice, as my mind quickly began to wander. But I do not believe I fell asleep, because I do not remember ever waking up.

Could have happened?

Outside the music hall, down a great straight street stood the Tokyo Sky Tree – still under construction just over half its final height, now touching the 349m mark.

The Sky Tree? It's like the Arc de Triumph in Paris. You can walk towards it, and you know that you must be getting closer. Still, you never make any progress. Step after step, you close in, and yet there it is – just as far away as the last time you looked up at it.

It's hard to say when you transition from being far away to right beside it. I imagine it's a sort of portal that you warp through. There really is no other excuse. For twenty minutes it will be off in the distance, and then – just like that – you're against the wall that was erected to keep curious Japanese from getting too close with their cameras. I guess foreigners take pictures as well, but I wouldn't know – I was the only one, and my camera? Left behind. Who knew I'd see this?! Who even knew this existed?

After far too long sitting on a railing, being impressed by simply looking up, we whisked ourselves away to Shinjuku for food. My last meal. More types of okinomiyaki. Japanese food? My lord is it delicious!

My buddy joined us all after he finished work, and we kept ourselves well fed into the night.

Once others had left for sleep, and other such important things, the two of us headed off for one final episode of karaoke. Oh the songs that were sung, and the night that was had. Probably to just leave out the fact that I sang many a female pop song from the mid-nineties. And belting out Pearl Jam, it was decided that we were old, and that was sad.

Tokyo – you've been a lovely place, and Japan? A great country. I'll see you again I'm sure. Some day.

Space Marine Day

A lot of things have been left unsaid about Japan. In my rush to try and force out three weeks of posts, I skipped over the every day – those things that seamlessly blend in with expectations that they fail to be noticed.

When I first arrived in Japan, I was shocked with the numbers of corner stores there were. Japan seems to take this to the fullest point, every corner should have at least one store. And then there are all number of them in between, as well.

The most visible brand Lawson's. Apparently they're from the states. At some point I knew far more about Lawson's than I ever wanted to. My buddies became a wee bit too interested in the brand and read the wiki. Suffice to say, Lawson's made an impact. And there's not just one variety of Lawson's – oh no. There is the Lawson's 100, 100yen shop. There's Lawson's, Lawson's Station, and Lawson's Organic. There could be more, some I didn't take in, or some I just never encountered – but the rule of this Lawson extends far and wide in this fair country.

There's also your Family Mart, your am+pm, and your – what is it? Sun Kist? Something like that.

And the shrines. There's always another shrine. About as many of them as there are corner stores. Rather than spread near the stations, these are hidden away at corners in the more residential areas. Do I know what they're for, or why they're there? No I do not. But there they are.

And McDonald's – McPorks, and Shaka Shaka Lemon. I don't know what to say about these tasty treats other than if you're in the country and have a hundred yen kicking around, you really should go out and pick one up.

Certainly there are more things I'm forgetting, and I'll try to put them in as they come to me, but for now, we move on.

So, what did I do today? Not all that much. And that was what I wanted. I wanted to do nothing, and enjoy that nothing. There was a projector hooked up to a PS3 on which I downloaded terrible amounts of demos, while watching the Halo: Legends anime. It's a strange mix, but I do so love my space marines, and I do so love the Haloverse, so that was time well spent.

Plus I got to sit in the magic chair – the peak evolution of all chairs. It bends and contours to your head, back, and knees. It's wonderful, and it's meant for sitting on the floor. This Japanese floor sitting? Wave of the future – lets all join in, and perhaps then the chairs will be available on Amazon.com not just Amazon.jp

For what it's worth, I did manage to get a lot of the emails I'd been meaning to send out. It's not the easiest thing, keeping in contact with people back home. Though I sent off a number, and replied to all those in my gmail “starred” folder (starring only works if you mean to go back to it, by the by) I could still think of a few people I wanted to send additional messages to. The only thing that makes this even slightly possible to upkeep is that, back home, their lives are as involved and time consuming as mine. More often than not I shoot out replies faster.

I'm normally pretty good at the email game. It just hasn't been the most down-time-filled month.

So, Halo: Legends, check. eMails, check. Time to get those demos going. Of them all, the one that stands out the most in my mind? Afro Samurai. If a game can pull me in with its art style, keep me interested with its game play, and then get me laughing through its dialog? Well then that is the game for it. It's the first demo that has made me think, you know what? I need more of this. I do think I might look into it when the world back home hearkens to me.

And you know what? I'm feeling that world hearken all the time these days. I really do feel this trip coming to an end, and I'm not sure how I feel about it. There are times when I'm so ready to go back, and try to find my place in the world, and there are other times when I want to try and make this my place in the world.

I do miss the community of friends back where I'm from, and I miss the familiar, and I miss the Combo C. But then, I like that I can do what I want out here, am answerable to no one, and don't have to think any more than “what do I want?” Sure, it's selfish but that doesn't make it any less ideal.

I flip back and forth between the two thoughts. If I could transplant a few people out here to travel in a group, well then that would be the real ideal, wouldn't it? I don't want to go back, but then this last month has been a far cry from travel in the past. Perhaps the next couple of months will find me in situations like in BA, or even Thailand. That was travel, sure – but of the type where seeing it end might not have been the worst thing. Japan, though? Well this has just been fantastic. And people. There have always been people. No nights up alone listening to podcasts, wondering if I should have done more with my day. No going out just to do enough things to write about. No, these days have been organic, and taken care of themselves.

Well – there's still China, Singapore, New Zealand, and Australia left. And there's America. But I almost feel as my trip will end when I leave Australia. Then it will become something different. A joint road trip, and still travel – but even that it's in America for that long. It will just be – something different.

When my buddy got back from work, we went out for food. Okanomiyaki. I have no idea how to spell it, but the more I think of it, the more I want it. And there are so many styles – Tokyo, Osaka, and Hiroshima from what I know. I prefer the Hiroshima style, and I think that this could do real well in North America. But the more I think, the more I realize I don't think I know any Japanese restaurants back home. Surely they exist, but...

Basically you make a base of liquid flour, water, broth, and let that slightly pancake. Then you take your noodles, toss them on the griddle too, on top of the base. Then you put on a mountain of sprouts which get smaller and smaller. Then – and here's where the America crowd starts to love it – you layer it with bacon. Once the bacon is on, you slather it with sauce, which we could call BBQ sauce. I don't know what it is – it's brown? And then you make another base, flip the whole thing over onto it, let it finish cooking, and put it on a plate, cut into four slices, and serve.

Once served, and it's on your plate, you slather it with mayonnaise. Once more, bless the Japanese and their mayo loving hearts.

Honestly – tell me American's wouldn't go nuts for that. Only you'd have to call it something less ethnic, like... Spaghetti pie. And instead of the mysterious brown sauce, which undoubtedly has a Japanese name, you'd need to rename that Freedom Sauce.

Who wouldn't want a slice of Spaghetti pie, covered in bacon, mayo, and freedom sauce?

I'm telling you – this is a workable image.

On the way home from food, I popped into a video store to pick up Avatar (just released on this April 23rd) on BluRay as a way of saying thanks. Not that it equates, but hey – it's something.

Once back at the house, we proceeded to stay up watching it. Sure it wasn't in 3D like it was in Bangkok, but it was still solid. I still do like this movie. I mean, come on, space marines. That, and watching it up a giant projected HD screen really works to recreate the theatre environment. I'm so smitten with this set up, and the chairs. Such wonderful, wonderful chairs.

Three times I've watched the film – still, I have no idea what the aliens are saying to each other. The first two times? Their voice was subtitled in Thai. Now, Japanese. One day I'll figure it out. One day.

Failure in Akiba

Today I had a mission. Buy the Yuffie action figure.

Yuffie is a character from FFVII. My favourite character, at that. And as such, I would like the action figure version of her. I've seen it everywhere for forty plus dollars, but I was not willing to pay that price. Back home it was twenty to thirty dollars.

Only a few days ago I had seen it on sale in the Mandarake in Akihabara for 2100 yen. Unfortunately, this coincided with my having asked someone to see if they could find it back home. On the off chance that they worked fast, I didn't want to end up with two, and so I left the figure in the case, vowing to return to pick it up later once all that had been sorted.

Today was the day to return. 800yen round trip in subway fare. But when I got the figure all would be worthwhile.

Of course, when I got there it was gone. Of course it was.

I can not say anything to describe my sense of disappointment, save for that, coupled with the lack of food in my belly it made for a very dreary day. It was gone. I am figureless. While on the whole this is probably for the best (not having to truck it down) the feeling of failure was overwhelming. Sure I found a few 8gig USB keys for 1200yen each, and buying two of those helped to offset the subway fare, but still... I had failed.

[authors note: looking back, a few days later, I think not getting the Yuffie, and instead getting the memory to free up another 16gig SD card for my camera was probably the best way things could have gone, but you couldn't have convinced me of that day back.]

I left Akiba, passing the launch, or demo, or something, of Gundam Online. All I know for sure is that there were girls dressed up in Gundam uniforms, with a giant robot head, and people lining up to play something on laptops provided. Even seeing that unique event, I till left, head hung low in defeat. I then headed back for the transfer at Shibuya. I kicked around there for a while, and ended up finding some more food, which worked to raise my spirits a tad. So many environmental factors at work clouding my thoughts right now – the ongoings in the novel I was reading, the lack of juice in my system, the hunger... the failure too, but I think that was the smallest of the four impactors.

Eventually I made it back to the house, using the key attached to a giant plush chicken with a creepy mouth, instead of a beak, to get inside. And there I crashed around, playing some Oblivion, and reading internets. I may have also crawled under blankets and caught up on LOST. And let me tell you, if I did, it was wonderful! I will miss warm accessible beds.

Dinner was sushi, hand rolled. Finally I know what those things, slightly resembling (and perhaps once used as) place mats that come with chop stick sets are. Colour me embarrassed.

Sushi – like a giant seaweed burrito. Things I added to my list of newly eaten: natto (gross, terrible, rotten beans. My god Japanese people... really? Like Aussies with their Vegemite!) sea urchin (no it is not delicious, despite what I was told!) I narrowly avoided having wee little squid added to the menu. No more. Never again.

Sleep came early(ish) and welcomed on this day. A first in some time. And, as tomorrow would see me at the orchestra, this was definitely for the best. No one wants to nod off during a concert.

Blogging Day

Nine Thirty. I'd slept enough. I had a lot of work ahead of me. A lot of blogs to write.

It was now April 22nd. My last blog went live on the first. Three weeks to write – around twenty thousand words needed thinking up and typing. Open up my notes and...

You know what? Better to browse some internets first. O.K. Eleven o'clock, time to blog!

And time passed by. Thankfully I am not a slow typer, otherwise this may never have happened. I also had the practice from writing all my Africa blogs at once too. But still it was no easy task.

Around one or two in the afternoon I decided I should probably look into booking my flight from China to Singapore. I messed with my schedule and decided to fly out of Shanghai, visiting Beijing earlier on. This works as I know someone there so I don't need to worry about booking a place to sleep – so I can stay however long I want and not be rushed in or out. Also she will provide me with knowledge of where to go, and how to get there in China.

Flight booked. The hostel in Hong Kong was harder – only a few days away most were full. I couldn't believe it, but it as true. Eventually I found one that wasn't too terribly expensive, though it was still about twenty bucks a night on average.

With that taken care of I wrote more blogs.

Crap the train – how would i get from Hong Kong to Beijing? Future Mike was not present Mike and needed to deal with it. I had to email the train office and request a ticket, but I would have to wait on their reply. Still – message sent.

More blogs.

Around five I decided I needed a real break, my adrenalin was pumping, as it often is when I speed stream of conscious, and I had to slow myself down. One hour – an hour – I played Oblivion, before I felt guilty and was drawn back to the moment, and had to type more. And type I did – not stopping to eat, or leave the house, or anything until 9:10pm.

It was at that moment that my final blog went live, and then became now.

Thankfully my buddy and his wife both worked late today, otherwise I'd be drawn into socializing, which I love to do and become quite distracted by (hence the lack of writing before now.) But no. I was caught up. All that was left was to begin today's blog.

ts of nine nineteen pee em then has become now. I am writing in real time, and it feels great. Now if you'll excuse me, I have more games what need playing.

That was it – that was the extent of the day. Writing, writing, and writing. And then it was done, it was over, and a weight was lifted from my shoulders. I should reward myself, by not writing any for a few days. I mean what could go wrong? What could happen if I left myself fall behind a day, or two, or three...

Chinese Visa Day

April 21st. That's the day it says on my passport claim slip from the Chinese embassy. That's the day it is. Upsettingly I dragged myself from sleep and headed out to make sure I would get to the embassy with plenty of time before they closed at noon.

When I got there I was sent from line to line to line before paying for my passport from a vending machine (of course). With passport and brand new visa in hand, I was ready to head back and nap.

But then I thought, I had to go to Shinjuku to make my train connection, and since I was there – why not poke around a little bit. So off I went to the Tokyo Government building, heading back up to floor 45 to look out again, but mainly to make a new mini-Katherine. And then back down I went, collecting an English version of the fantastic German guide book that has been my most trusted friend over the last three weeks.

Also in Shinjuku was the Square/Enix Character shop. But to be honest, it's not that good. I mean, sure, check it out. It's cool and all – but everything there is more easily accessible from Akiba. And cheaper too. Still – they do have Vincent's outfit from FF7 and Sephiroth sleeping in the life stream, under the glass floor tiles. That's neat.

But where are my Slime Earings?! Where are any earings in this country? They don't exist. Fact!

Leaving the shop, I made my way to the hotel from Lost in Translation, lay down n the ground to snap off a few pictures, and then made my way to Shibuya. Once more, I was headed home. But then I thought – I had to transfer in Shibuya, so why not poke around there a bit? Go see the geek shop again?

Good plan! Off I went to make a final pass, but finding nothing to buy.

Then it was back to the place I was staying at. Armed with Chinese Visa I could look up flight information in and out of China. However I soon discovered this was a stupid way to get around in that country. The train was the way to go! Future Mike could deal with that. So off I went to sit in the reclining, movable, floor chair - turn on the projector – and play the game I'd been thinking about since the early days way back in Amsterdam. I was playing Oblivion, larger than life.

My pink haired Nord, Jalica, was ready to rip up these lands.

Strangely, exploring a digital world no longer held the same draw it used to. I'm not saying that two hours of my life didn't quickly disappear, but it wasn't what it used to be. Stupid real world.

Still – in the real world I couldn't rob people blind, or kill whatever I wanted to. And I still was too scared to go down the dark crypts, and I still felt nervous breaking into peoples houses – so I wasn't too far gone. My love for games can come back. Must come back. Will surely come back!

And with that as a final thought I headed to sleep content with the idea that for the first time in weeks I had no reason to wake up early the next day.

Well, except to write blogs. A terrible terrible amount of blogs.

Forests, and Fish, and Caves - Oh My!

We did not wake up for breakfast.

We woke up with only twenty minutes before we had to check out at ten. Still, what would they do if we were late? We don't pay them, and we didn't pay with credit card. We used a vending machine to pay for the room (I do love this impersonal payment set up they have in this country.)

Rushing to pack up we headed out, with a mission to visit the Fuji-Q Highlands theme park. It would offer a great view of Mt. Fuji, I was told. It would not.

The sky was covered in clouds, rain was falling.

Fine, scratch the theme park. But where would we go? I suggested Aokigahara. It was a forest in the Fuji five lake area. But why this forest? And why did I know about it? All good questions. The answers will reveal themselves – now.

Aokigahara has another name: The suicide forest. Japan is known for having one hundred suicides a day. That's quite the statistic. And this forest is the second most popular place to kill yourself in all the world. First is the Golden Gate Bridge. As it would turn out Niagara Falls is number three – so I've been to the top three places to kill myself, yet still I stand. A triumph!

Only once a week do people actually off themselves within the woods (most Japanese people choosing not to travel that far before their death, I guess) and we did not spot any potential victims. This was, I'm sure, for the best. No bodies either. How do you say, “I found a dead body over there,” in Japanese anyway?

The forest proved for a lovely walk. We made sure to stay on the path. Terrible things can happen if you leave the path. Sound doesn't travel far within the sea of trees, and compasses are rendered useless by the iron in the volcanic rock.

Wandering the paths we stopped only once to see a mystery sock. After some persuading I decided to examine it – inside? A mystery sock. Within that? Another mystery sock. Finally within that? a mystery sock. But inside that? ... ... ... a pair of boxer shorts.

Alright so it was no suicide note, but it was still odd.

Once we had left the forest, and returned to the world outside of potential suicide zones, we headed for an Ice Cave we'd spotted on the drive up. Who would have thought that it would be cold inside an ice cave?! But it was, and it was quite pretty, and well lit. My prepared head lamp was, sadly, not needed.

After emerging from the cave I grabbed the stamp there, and then we drove towards Mt. Fuji. Look, I know I was standing on it, at the base, and so it must – in theory – be something... but I was standing on it, and I still could see it! This mountain does not exist!

Now, there is a pricey toll to drive up, which we were not willing to pay, but what we did get access to was far better. A musical road! I'd heard about these, then forgotten them. When you drive over the bumps in the ground they create tones that play music. At fifty kilometers an hour the song is played correctly. Did we drive up and down the strip to play them, and then dangerously attempt to play one backwards? Of course. And it really was magical. I envision a future where you can drive the Green Day International Highway, where their albums are played as you drive along. I wonder what this does to the tires?

Then it was back to Tokyo to meet up for dinner at a fabulous sushi restaurant. On the way we passed a battle ship in the water, and cursed at more toll booths.

The restaurant was one I'd been taken to last time I was in Tokyo, and it was no less impressive today.

You catch the fish from a river in the restaurant, and then give it to the chef who turns it into the most delicious sashimi with speed and skill unparalleled. The fish is still twitching as you begin to eat its flesh. It is, of course, on the plate for you to verify its freshness.

There were other dishes and ways to eat fish – salted, ripped from the cooked insides, and sashimi dipped in boiling water to cook it before eating it, after dipped in a number of sauces.

This meal – well, here in Japan I've just had so many great meals. I will miss the food here greatly and must seek out a place that serves it back home. Chinese food? That's easy. Japanese? I may have my work cut out for me.

At the restaurant we were joined by two wee children – a niece and a nephew. They, of course, spoke Japanese. I had met them before, and learned the word “old man” quite fast – as they kept calling me one. Our conversation over dinner was mostly name calling, such as calling the boy a beautiful cherry blossom, and him calling me an octopus. I then used my knowledge of asking if someone was cute, by allowing his sister to say he was not.

Name calling of this sort went on until it was accepted that I was, indeed an octopus (tako), the boy was a samurai okami, and the girl was a cute little eel.

Then I may have held one of them over top of the fish river, upside down. And, yes, there may have been a shark in there. But it was all fun. Trust me.

At last my rushed days were coming to an end. Why, tomorrow, I might even have some down time. Sure I still have to get up early, but – soon – so soon – I'll be free to do nothing all day and enjoy it. Such a dream that men can dream.

The Ghibli Museum

Before Mike and Tonia left back for Canada, and I left Nick and George to meet up with a buddy of mine who lives in Tokyo, we had one last destination: The Ghibli museum.

Getting there may have taken more time than we would have liked, but once inside all was forgotten. Tickets for the museum had to be purchased weeks in advance, the wait was worth it. While I am not more than passingly familiar with the movies to come out of Ghibli studios, it was still like entering into the mind of a crazed animator.

The museum is a fine arts museum, but you may forget that the moment you step through the doors. Inside you are given your ticket – three cells from one of the studio's movies. And then you are left to wander and explore. A sign admits that there is no set path through the rooms, and that this museum is one best experienced by those willing to explore and have fun. It is, to be truthful, quite the experience.

Wandering into the first obvious room I was met with models of various characters from the studio. A great number of them were made real in various stages of animation. There was a section where you could look at the models and see each individual frame-made-physical. Beside them was a carousel with the models attached in the correct order to be animated. Without warning the lights went dark, the wheel started to spin, and a strobe light allowed for the illusion of movement. At one point it was so real that I caught myself wondering how the skipping rope got around the pole holding the jumping character in the air. Of course there was no rope, it was just part of the static models.

From there I wandered the halls noticing that even the fire extinguishers had been made part of the museum, with ornate helmets and tools linked above, preventing fire code violations while working them into the art.

For those who want to see inside the animators studio, there is a room set up just as one of the the home offices would look, with books strewn around and supplies laid out as if the desk was just left mid-work. Some of the books can be flipped through, such as the scrapbook containing images used for reference during the creation of Grave of the Fireflies. Grave of the Fireflies... A silent tear falls to the floor.

Next is the colourist's office with all his paints laid out, and hand painted animation frames. They are truly works of beauty, and seeing the actual frame is something that makes the whole experience more tangible. To know that every movement on the screen is actually a crisp piece of art... and while some of the movies may not hold up today due to poor colour actualization on the screen, they were all drawn and painted in the same quality used for today's HD films. And they are beautiful.

It's a shame they are lost, destroyed, or sold preventing the old movies from being remade in full HD. Still, that they are sold allows each frame to find an owner, and a place outside of its own personal history. In the gift shop I considered what would need to occur for me to start collecting these five hundred dollar stills.

Aside from the cells, background art is also shown, along with a machine set up to move the background while keeping the frame static. Basic animation at work.

Up on the roof is another giant robot – who is well known, and of great importance. I will need to get my hands on Caste in the Sky and watch it.

The large cat/bus is made plush, and school aged children can climb around it, and play in it.

There are some other rooms dedicated to other works, and one room with a changing exhibit. But once those have been explored, the museum still has more to offer. There is a well under a gazebo taken directly from one of the studio's works. And there is a corner with a witches broom, also a location made real from one of the films. The building itself, and all aspects of it are the imaginings and recreations of things originally seen on screen. And before you leave, you can get your ticket stamped and watch a fifteen minute animation (changing with the season) available only within the museums walls.

It's obvious to anyone who enters that this is the work of those who understand the art form, and care about their target audience. Yes, it's a museum, but I'll forgive you if you forget that once you step in through the doors. I did.

After leaving the museum, which is comparable only to the Manitoba museum in Winnipeg, I headed for the Chinese embassy to apply for a visa. I figured they'd close early, so left in order to get there by three.

Of course they did close early – at noon. I had failed. All that was left now was to go back to my place, grab all my gear, and say say goodbye to Nick and George. From there I went to Ginza to meet my buddy's wife who would show me the way back to their place. It also seemed that she would be cooking dinner. And what a fabulous dinner it was! I can't express how much I love Japanese cooking. It simply is – the best. Well, it's pretty great. It's no Combo C, but I wouldn't want that every day (would I?)

I forgot all about McDonald's, that's for sure.

Also – having access to a washing machine? Perfect!

Back to Nakano

April 13th: Our last full day together in Tokyo – never mind that Stew was already gone, and that Japan had claimed another back in Kyoto. This was our last big group day. And so we went where we all loved – Nakano Broadway. Except Alan. He went back to Kyoto – bless that Rail Pass.

Why did we return? Yes for the toys, and the shopping – but also the ice cream.

While Mike and Tonia shared another giant cone, I had learned from my last experience and whilst I wanted to try again, I thought better – Calpis ice cream – medium. It was wonderful to enjoy my treat this time. Still without the big one before I'd not have discovered Calpis. It's a soda flavour, and you can – somehow – taste the bubble while you eat it, which should be impossible in ice cream form. Still, it was a good half sized treat that never once attempted to hurt me.

With that checked off, we went off on our own again. I found a shop that sold Dragon Warrior magnets, and they were super awesome. Little pixelated magnets you can stick to a field with battle menus in the corner. I bought three. They were fantastic, and I knew I'd never see them again. The things I bought last time I was in Japan for two bucks a pop were now selling for around ten dollars. If you see something, don't think – just buy it. Unless it's Kobe beef. But I had not learned from the FF7 book at that point.

I also picked up some more Kingdom Hearts toys, and then made my way back to meet up with people.

From the mall we headed to a mysterious noodle shop. And it is mysterious. Here's what I know about how to get there – get off at the Yamanote line stop that plays the Astro Boy music, then exit. If you're at the exit with the Astro Boy mural, good, if not – find it. Turn right, and walk down the street for about ten minutes, looking to the left down all the alleys. Down one of them is a black tarp covering the front of a brick wall. This is what you're looking for. There will be a bone hanging from the tarp as well – don't run in fear, go under the tarp, and then open the blacked window/doors. Step inside and sit down at one of the five seats (just the right number for us) and be amazed at the methodical way the man makes noodles, the fantastic tastes of them, and all the wonder that is provided.

Eat here, and eat here often. It was one of the best finds in the city. Some how our food Guru Mike knew about it, and led the way – not unlike Moses. I'm sure that the two are comparable.

After food it was time to head to Shibuya for last minute shopping. More Mandarake, Disney, and Tower Records.

After that? Back to the flat to rest, watch some Venture Brothers, and then head out to meet up for dinner.

We ate at Doma Doma (a chain restaurant that, apparently, Japanese people scoff at – but I quite enjoyed it.) There a mochi pizza tried to kill me, but aside from that – it was great.

Just like when Antarctica came to an end, this leg of my Japanese trip would end with good times, good people, and good drinks. It's the only way any experience such as this can end – with conversation, and explanation free of inhibitions. It was also here I learned about how a random construction paper book could be opened and framed as art.

While some hate it, I almost sort of sold myself on the brilliance of it all.

Japan with a large group – I thought we would have all tried to kill ourselves by the end of it, but clearly now I know better. And I wouldn't have wanted this any other way.

Also, I ate horse today.

Osaka and Akiba

Well what more is there to do in Osaka? Not that much really – but the same streets are just as good to wander during the day as they are at night!

This time the Disney store was open, and all the characters were jumping off the wall. I also heard music for a Lilo and Stitch music video, and wondered if it was by The Pillows. It was! My most favourite of all Japanese bands – they did the soundtrack for FLCL. They're quite fantastic. I'll have to track down the source of this music video song in the future.

After the Disney store was wandered, and cooed over, we headed out to the streets once more and came across a music shop. I'm not sure who suggested we go in, but when we got to the piano section, I saw a song book of Final Fantasy songs displayed. Alan had picked it up and put it down.

What better way to combine the hobbies of Mike and Tonia than through this book? She likes piano – he digs Final Fantasy. Snatching it up, Mike went and bought it. Apparently they were going to the FF Symphony back in Toronto. What a coming together.

On the shelves I saw the music book for Chrono Trigger and claimed, picking it up, that it was gone forever never to be put down. And I too made my purchase. This would become the greatest thing I bought in the entire country. I passed up buying the FF7 song book however.

[authors note: I have tried to find it in other cities, and stores since – no luck. Lesson learned – you see something unique? Buy the bloody thing.]

This music store had made coming to Osaka worth it (not that the ball game didn't... but that wasn't really IN Osaka was it? It wasn't.)

After our shopping we hightailed it back to the station, where we caught a train back to Tokyo. We missed our train. But through the magic of the JR Pass we were on the next one without any penalty. It's also good that Japan runs trains twice an hour from most cities to Tokyo.

Back in the big city it was time to show Tonia Akihabara. She left before we got to the – unique – shops last time. This would be different.

Smut, smut, smut.

Eight levels of items ranging from anime costumes used for purposes other than Halloween, to figres of characters doing all sorts of terrible things to themselves, and to others. Rule 34 comes to life in this part of the world. Business men search through boxes of hentai with each other, perhaps finding the latest Phoenix Wright porn comic, because – of course – those exist here.

There is a floor of video games in which you do the most terrible of things. And movies where you can watch it all play out, if you're too lazy to click yourself.

You know, I thought I could describe these locations, but I can not. Not in a public forum. Just know that rule 34 is all alive and well here. And just about the only thing lacking was tentacles (strange they should be missing.)

With that out of the way, and Tonia starting to understand that mysteries of the country, we headed to Super Potato – the greatest video game store of them all. They sell just about every game every made for every system. Just be prepared to pay for the rarer ones.

Luckily if you're into RPGs you can grab Chrono Trigger or FF[anything] for about five bucks each. While you'd pay hundreds back home, here they're nothing. It was just a shame that they were sold out of Mother (Earthbound) carts.

Also, you know, you'd need a system to play them on. And knowing how to read Japanese would help out a lot too.

Without getting into it too much – another smut building showed Yoai to the masses. “Are those boys?” / “Yes.” / “Both of them?” / “Yes.” / “But look at them? Are you sure.” / “Yes!” / “O.K. but that's girl right?” / “THEY'RE ALL BOYS!”

It takes some people a while to get used to the idea.

The best line of the night: “Used panties?! Why would anyone pay for used panties? I've already got used panties!”

In cases like these it's probably best not to press the explanation.

Asakusa and Shinjuku

What a beautiful morning. The type of morning you could fall in love with the first person who smiles at you. God, I love days like this!

The sky way blue, the sun was shining, and we were off to Asakusa. Never mind that people were late to meeting, that just gave me time to head to the 100 yen shop and buy some tasty treats.

On and off the train, we found ourselves walking the shopping street towards the temple. On each side were stalls offering all sorts of souvenir goods. Last time I was in Tokyo I thought of this area as the only tourist attraction in the city. And I still believe that. Local, domestic, and international tourists all line the streets here hopping from shop to shop on their way to see the temple.

The temple itself, I'm sure, offers a great sight to those who understand the practices. As for myself, I can take enjoyment from watching people rub the healing smoke on their bodies, before paying their coins and entering the building. The great number of statues and flowers here also do well to capture my interest.

After some sight seeing, I finally just picked a spot to sit down, read some of my book (now covered in stamps from various stations) and wait for the others to finish up. Twenty minutes to do nothing but sit in the sun and read. And boy did I enjoy it. This is what my Japan trip was supposed to be. This was the time I was supposed to get bored, and do nothing. That was not happening – but at last I had some time.

And well spent it was, until a few Japanese guys came up to me and wanted to get pictures with me. Who knows what has become of them. It's possible I look strange to them, and it's also possible they mistook me for the Canadian who looks like me that is on TV here, talking about the country. Who can say?

After people had finished their temple walks, and fortune reading, we took off to walk over to Ueno park. I seem to recall having been there not long ago, but now in the sun it would be – you know – easier to find the washroom and not become horribly lost. Also, during the day it was likely that there would not be giant talking beer bottles, but that's just supposition on my part.

Ueno Park – at the entrance there was a collection of over one hundred homeless people. They gathered by people with crates of food. That food would be theirs, all they had to do was sit through a sermon about how the Christian God is their savior. I don't know about you, but if the Christian God makes you wait until you hear how wonderful he is before he hooks you up with some food, then he sounds like a real jag-off, yeah?

I had no patience to watch this farce. Not when it was only making me angry – just give the the food, and if they wanna stay, then tell them about your all-bloody-mighty. Otherwise you're just cruel. Plus, there were lots of Cherry Blossoms to go see.

These flowers are turning out to be like ice in Antarctica. Sure, there are lots, and I'd already taken hundreds of photos – but not of this specific area, and not in this light, and not with this background. It was different. I just had to take a dozen more shots. And a dozen more shots I took.

When people went to explore the park a little more, I also decided to just hang back and read. I was quite enjoying these moments of free time. What a beautiful thing it was. My only break from reading came when I was told I just simply had to walk up to a shrine, pour oil on a statue, and then drink some Sakura tea. Sure – why not?

From the park we headed to Shinjuku. Our first stop was to go to the governmental building and take the fifty five second elevator to the forty fifth floor, offering views of the surrounding city that stretches until it merges with the clouds.

I'd seen this all before, but I hadn't collected the stamp. That alone made it worth the time. And the thirty minute line. I do not remember there being a line last time I was here. Still – once at the top, all was forgiven. And it was free, so why not?

Stew discovered a little machine I would have overlooked. You could have your picture taken, and it would be printed on a piece of rounded plastic. This picture of your face could then be put into a plastic toy body. For 500 yen you could make plastic you! What better thing could I be offered?! I love myself so!

After making myself, I also made a mini-Katherine too, as I have no physical pictures of her anymore. And apparently I find myself having an easier time using the toy creation device than just going to a digital printing centre making some new photos.

Huh.

Well anyway, with mini Mike and Kath on key chains, I was ready to descend back to the ground level and head out to Shinjuku on the other side of the station. The real Shinjuku – the real Japan, in my mind.

Now, it's not that I quite like Shinjuku – it offers fewer things that I care about, but at night? That's what you think of when you think Tokyo. It was here that Bill Murray first entered Japan in Lost in Translation. Here are the neon lights, and the streets packed with people. Here is the night life all coming together and making the ordinary extrodinary.

And off runs a man being chased through the streets. Shinjuku nightlife!

A terrible amount of pictures may have been taken as I tried to capture every light, and every subtle illumination. I failed, I always fail at this – it's just so much. It's something that, once again, needs to be seen to be appreciated. The colours, and feeling. I was home – even though I didn't quite want to be here.

Still, it did offer me some delicious noodles, and a look at what had changed. Where, before, the streets were packed with hostess clubs (places where you pay girls to drink with you, and talk with you – it's like the emotional side of prostitution.) they were now full of host clubs. Host clubs are the same, except gender reversed. The number of women willing to pay guys to drink with them is ever growing, and apparently quite popular now. The hosts roamed the streets looking for people to come into the bar with them.

They're easy to spot – they all have hair just like Cloud Strife.

With those sights experienced it was back to our rooms. The night was stretching on, and we had to be up early the next day to activate our rail passes, and get on out of this crazy city!

Nakano Broadway, and Ice Cream Headaches

So apparently I do like shopping – just not the kind most people mean when they say the word. Because Nakano Broadway? The made my geek-lined heart soar!

Nakano Broadway. What is it? I'll tell you what it is – a mecca for all things terrible and geeky. Think of that nerdy basement dweller, and his collection of comics, figurines, and other assorted things most people's mothers threw out when they were away at camp in the fifth grade. Now picture well over three dozen stores packed with that stuff, laid out in just about the same way, now picture that on three floors and you'll have an idea of what Nakano Broadway is.

The thing is – you need to make your way down the shopping hallway to even reach its hallowed doors. And this is a problem because there is a sock shop on the way, and it has been discovered that sock purchasing is the most painfully side tracking thing possible. Sure, you don't think they have any value, but you're wrong. Do you want the regular socks? Toe socks? The Ninja socks with the one split in them for the big toe? And what style do you want?

A few years ago this would have destroyed me as well – when I teach drama I try to keep it real by wearing wacky socks. No shoes in the drama room, please.

But now? Now I just looked and thought wistfully. I accept that I am unemployed and may remain that way for some time once I return back to Canada. I'm not sure how long that will last – or what I'll do. Sure I'll make the moves to go back into teaching, because I quite like it, but if there is a problem getting a job, well there are other things I could be doing with my life. I'm sure, yeah?

So socks – not so important to me, though I understood their draw.

Next up? Wacky t-shirt place. It offered me a washroom, so I was all for that. I can appreciate t-shirts too, but a XL here, is like a medium back in Canada, and – well – look at me. That just won't cut it. So T-Shirt store is also of little desire. However, making sure I'll never fit into any of those clothes, I made my way to a Mackers for two McChickens and a Lemon Shaka Shaka Chicken (The most delicious McTreat of them all... Think about a Spicey Chicken patty in a bag, with lemon powder, that you shake and shake (or shaka shaka) until it's covered. That is an epic treat! Now think of putting the two McChickens together, and throwing in the lemon one to make Ultra Chicken delux.

Combining 100yen menu items to create monstrous creations is a wonderful new hobby of mine, I'm discovering. And it leads to tasty treats. In Japan they know how much mayo really belongs on their food. Bless their clogged hearts.

At long last it was decided that we would split up for a few hours and meet back. There is no way to stay together inside this place. And Mike's Girlfriend? I think she had better things to do than look at toys for the next few hours. I mean I can't imagine what girl wouldn't want to spend hours and hours going through the things I saw – but apparently some people just aren't into it. Crazy, I know.

So off I went to find the strange and bizarre that was being offered to me in this mall. What did I find? Well my first purchase was a little figure of two old people canoodling, naked, with each other for 200yen. Creepy, weird, and only from Japan. That's the way I approach things. Next up, I grabbed a Kingdom Heart's figure. For hours I searched through bags of opened capsule toys, and crazy wacky things, and just thought about how I wanted them all. And I also thought about how much I wish I just travelled here so I could bring home a pack of souvenirs. Again, it's probably for the best that that option wasn't open to me – but, you know, a boy can dream can't he?

For hours none of us ran into each other. It wasn't until just at the end that I saw Stew, and he suggested I leave the third floor. I guess that makes sense. But I needed the time just to see these things. There were eight different Mandarake stores here! None of them sold Layton. I had decided, after days of wishing and searching, that if I ever see him again I will just buy him – waiting is stupid, and subway fare to get out to a better deal would destroy the deal.

Layton! Why didn't I buy you before?!

And there, right on the second floor, between the Alien bust, and the Predator sculpture, just behind the – well – I'll leave those descriptions for my Akiba entry – there was Layton. Only 2200. I could deal with that. Done and done! Purchased, and escape! Back to the group meet up.

But this group meet up would have to wait, as Tsang, Tonia, and I were showed a picture of Stew's Ice Cream cone. Off we ran to get one for ourselves.

You need to understand this is no normal ice cream. This ice cream cone was bigger than my head, with eight different flavours soft-served on top of each other. This was the ice cream cone you dreamed about as a small child, but you could never convince your parents to get for you. It was under four dollars. Under four dollars! What could go wrong?

Ten minutes into eating it, I'll tell you what could go wrong. I had suffered through six levels of ice cream headache. Mike and Tonia, sharing, were at the same place I was enjoying every bite. I was on a mission to devour before it melted into nothing. Also – I have a beard. One foot of ice cream leaves terrible markers in the hair, so much that an employee came out from behind the counter with tissues, looking me in the eye stating, “perhaps you need a napkin?”

This does not happen. Japanese people, in my experience, will not suggest things to others, or make eye contact. I hardly ever catch people giving me looks in this country. They're ninjas at it! But this lady – all the way from behind the counter. I was a sight, to be sure.

Five minutes, and two more head aches later, I was polishing off my painful treat, just before Mike and Tonia had their last delicious bites. Jerks. Sharing. That's not the real way to do it.

They asked if Katherine would have shared it with me. Maybe – but more likely, we'd goad each other into buying one and then race to see could finish it first, health and safety thrown to the wind. Am I looking forward to this race, over a year from now? Somewhat. Other parts are dreading it.

And now I know why parents never let their small children have these cones. Still, if I have a child and they ask for one, you better be sure they'll get it. Learn your lesson through pain. Just like when they ask for chocolate, I'll give the 100% dark. That'll learn em!

Eventually things died down and we met up, ice cream in the past (and being craved, pain forgotten) then off to Ikebukuro to find some food.

Well we went to find an underground shopping complex, but failed. Then found an English pub where for six bucks we could have fish and chips. Look Japan, I know you think you know how to deep fry things, but that was not fish and chips! That was tempura fish. You better believe there's a difference. And putting pickles in Mayo does not make tartar sauce!

Still, you were a good meal, and less than six bucks. And you tried real hard, so there's that too. Still, fish and chips? Please.

As we all headed in our own ways to nap, planning on karaoke later in the night, it slowly dawned on us all that this would not happen. After all this rushing around, there was no way a nap could ever end. There would be no karaoke, just sleep – sweet sweet slumber.

Ueno, The Less Said the Better

Today is a day that will live on in the hearts and minds of us all.

We passed up going to a penis festival.

I know, right? Who would do that. Who doesn't want to see Japan's ten foot tall penis carried around? You could buy penis candy, and penis veggies and all sorts of other things shaped as penises. I'm told this has to do with warding off STDs. Probably not going to work – but maybe? Anyway, I'll never know. We didn't go there.

We headed to Meiji Jingu shrine, which is the Las Vegas of Japan, I'm sure. Within an hour we had seen seven or eight couples get married – with creepy voyeuristic photos of all of them. Still – it was a cultural experience, and there was a stamp at the shrine.

Then we went to Harajuku.

And this was a failed plan, because the costumed girls were not out, they were all in Yoyogi, which I must saw was pure madness. Once more Cherry Blossoms covered the world, and the sky was invisible under the canopy of pink. Last time I was here it looked like a bunch of ugly dead trees. Japan – one month of the year, it's Beautiful? The only 11? Well it's still not that bad, is it?

There was no patch of grass unclaimed by picnickers. Some of them had grabbed bags full of food from Mackers. These are my people! I've decided that when I get married, on the invitation there will be two options, Beef and Chicken. These are your meal choices. If you choose Beef, you get a Big Mac meal. You choose Chicken? Some KFC. Vegetarians will not be catered to. They can Brown Bag it. Someone else will enjoy their pick I'm sure.

I know what you must be thinking, right? Pure genius. Most weddings pay well over sixty bucks for the plate of gross rubber chicken, but here I have managed to cut the cost down to five bucks to something people will really like. Hell, if they're lucky maybe I'll toss them two Big Macs!

Look, my money was all sunk into this trip – just be grateful there will be food at all.

I'm sure future wife will be on board for this. How could anyone not be? I mean really – it's quite exciting...

Sorry – back to Yoyogi. There were people everywhere, and it was like nothing I'd ever seen before. On Canada Day you get something 5% of the madness here. But that's nothing. This was just beautiful, like out of a dream. I don't know what to say beyond, you need to experience the overwhelming image of people packed together in a social ritual fully regimented, as this is Japan, after all. It was cold, but the season said come out and eat together, and my goodness that's what they're going to do!

Two girls in pink dresses with loli umbrellas were photographing other people in the park. I tried to take a picture of them, and got the umbrella shoved at my lens. Oh I see how it is, they can take pictures of whomever they want, but forbid someone tries to shoot them. Yeah that makes lots of sense. Come on crazy dressed people. You must understand you make yourself a target, just roll with it. When people take shots of me, do I get all uppity and try to stop them? No – I look ridiculous, so they want a picture. Hypocritical sons of... well daughters, well anyway...

After Yoyogi we tried to board the train to head out near Ueno. This was a mistake. I'd never seen such a packed station with people shoving in and out to get to this one location. I should have known. It's not like we were not warned by Stew... Still – eventually we made it. The only regret? We didn't get to see the crazy elvises dance.

Ueno. Ah Ueno. We searched for a tea shop. We didn't find it. We sent Stew off on a mission to Turbo to it and report back. Ten minutes passed, twenty. He was not returning. A map showed the shop didn't exist in the direction we'd sent him. Would he run until it was found? Hard to say.

At this point I started to get tired. Yes tired.

Eventually he returned, and we headed to Ueno. But I was quiet exhausted by this point. And as I get exhausted I get a little loopy. By the time we reached the park it was all I could do to keep my head straight, but then – GIANT SWANS!

Stew and I ran to the swans for our lovely park date together. And sure, they were closing down, but no – we needed to ride them. I tried to explain this, and we were told fine (I think – he spoke Japanese) if we only stayed out twenty minutes and not the full thirty. They had to close, you see.

Despite the thrill I edged more and more to exhaustion on this ride and as such the ADHD inside of my came to the surface. Needless to say we made many new friends on this ride. Friends with people on the shore, friends with other folks in boats. My inhibitions had left me, and whilst I knew only two or three phrases in Japanese I made sure to get good millage out of them.

Eventually we got out of the swans, ensuring our full thirty minutes by being the last ridiculous boat back to dock, and then we headed out for some food. What a lovely moment, enjoyed by all. People on the shore tried to photograph us, but apparently we turned away right was we headed into frame. Which was too bad, i would have liked such a reminder.

At the food stand it dawned on me that I needed to use the washroom. I had been there earlier and knew it was just around the lake. What could go wrong? Nothing I thought. Oh how wrong I was. Sure I made it there, and yes it should have been a straight walk back, but in my confused daze late at night, I lost my way, walking one way around the pond, another way, never quite coming back. Over and over I looped the network of small lakes. Forty five minutes later – yes forty five – I saw in front of me, the glowing tower of edible goodness.

When I returned it was agreed upon that I not be allowed anywhere without a buddy. This was a good idea. I decided against telling them of my quest to return, wandering past giant birds (the ride from earlier) and meeting a huge talking beer bottle (a corona costume) – I knew what they'd think. Rummy. Rummy for sure.

When the time came to head out to Roppongi for the night life of nightlife Stew agreed to help locate my new digs with me. We had moved buildings earlier in the day. I feel bad for Stew, as I thought he knew where we were going. I certainly didn't. I would love to have seen a GPS tracking of where we ended up, as we circled back so many times. Eventually my crying aloud of the word “[insert anything helpful] doko desu ka?!” got us where we were going. More friends were made on this return trip.

And then I was asleep. And all was right in the world.

Why was my foot bleeding? Right – the rocks I tripped on earlier. Good times.