Go Go Go Hanshin Tigers!

GO! GO! GO! Hanshin TIGERS!

We grabbed the train to Osaka and then hurried to make it to the ballpark in time to catch the first pitch of the Hanshin Tigers playing the Tokyo Swallows (really? There wasn't a better name than that, Tokyo?)

There is no parking lot at the stadium, only a train station, and all together we forced ourselves off the car, down the platform, and into the ballpark. I had been excited for this since I heard of it. I wanted to catch a game last time I was in Tokyo, but it was not to be. Now here, just outside of Osaka – at one of the most important stadiums in the country – I was ready to watch two teams I'd never heard of duke it out.

As soon as the first pitch was thrown the crowds started to scream. When Tokyo was up to bat their supporters screamed out at the players, and when the Tigers were up, the staudium errupted with the voices of over forty thousand people screaming things I could not understand.

Stew found a noise making bat for me, and I made my own fun slapping it in my palm along with the songs. This was baseball as it should be. Loud, noisy, with everyone involved. While there was no announcer to say who was up next, there didn't need to be. Every player had their own chant, and it was instantly obvious.

When one of the Swallows came up to bat the supporters all pulled out Canadian flags and started to wave them in the air, some members playing Oh! Canada on the brass instruments they'd brought.

Each time this Canadian player walked up to the plate they repeated this. Except the one time I tried to film them. That was one time they let it go. Ugh.

They played like a AAA team, meaning things happened. There were errors, exciting plays, and you were never sure what would happen next. Out on the grass, under the bright lights, I knew I was seeing baseball as I'd imagined it as a small child.

There was another way that they perfected baseball here. You could not do the Wave. Signs were up. Anyone attempting the activity could be removed from the ballpark. I think we need to add this to North American rules to. And while you couldn't do that during the 7th inning, everyone blew up giant phallic balloons and shot them off into the sky. Wave bad, flying erections? Just fine. Oh Japan!

Once the Tiger's won the game, fans stayed in their seats, taking part in the post game karaoke ritual. It was fantastic and wonderful. But that's when it hit me – all this fun was regimented and structured. Everyone chanted the same cheers, yelled the same thing. It was only I who broke from that to scream other things. And during the clapping chants, everyone stopped clapping at just the right second. Only or group let loose an awkward after-clap.

Perhaps this was not baseball at its best. Everything that seemed so random and strange and exciting was really predetermined long before we took our seats.

I'll have to think more on this.

On the way to the train to take us back to Osaka we passed KFC. A very special KFC. Inside a magic life-preservation tube is a statue of the colonel all white and chipped. You see, it is protected as it carries a terrible curse. True story.

After the Tiger's took their first championship fans got rowdy, stole the colonel and threw him in the river. They never won a championship again, except for the year someone tried to fish it out and died in the process. That death allowed them a win that year. Recently it was pulled out, and the championship winning can continue. But the people here know not to mess with that statue now.

Back in Osaka we headed out to explore the nightlife. This is a city that is made for tourists – but domestic ones more than foreign I think.

Large lit up objects put Shinjuku to shame. There were dancing crabs, angry chef faces, people running that played music on the hour. It was a fantastic wonderful place, which also offered a Disney Store (Tonia and I squealed in glee – becoming crushed to learn it had already closed.)

Bright lights, big city. This was the location where we would leave our friend Stew behind. He was off to catch a flight to Shanghai, China. And he would be missed. Before we left, I set my camera to take a group shot, saying I needed to wait until no one was around to steal it. I joke of course, as there is so little crime in Japan. Of course that's when a bunch of bikers started to hang around. Sigh. Why do I bother talking some time?

We took our Christian Rock photo, all looking different directions, and then Stew made his exit.

For us, Osaka still offered tasty treats, and far too many bright lights than we could ever grow accustomed to.

Giant Robots and Spirit Guides

Oh my god, it's a giant robot!

Tetsujin-28, the fifty foot giant robot, from an anime of the same name, stands in Kobe. He just hangs out there, in true to life size, looking quite amazing, pumping his fists to the sky. And if you come to Japan, you really do need to go and see it. I mean, come one, it's a giant robot! What more could you want? A life sized Godzilla statue? Please – just be happy with the tiny one in Ginza. Every disappointed tourist who seeks out that hidden gem fills me with joy. I don't know why – I just think it's great.

Before we reached the robot we had to find it. A lovely spirit guide met us outside the station, disguised as an old woman. She handed us a map and she was off on her way. Some time later we passed the town building where it was said you could go to the top floor and look out at the city. Still – there was no way to know how to do this, as all was abandoned at this hour.

Who should appear from out of the building, but our guide, ushering us inside and up the elevator. Looking out, we knew that her spirit would carry us from one part of the city the the next, and while she was never to return, we felt her hand guiding us. Or something creepy like that.

I don't know – it was just weird, alright? Move on.

From the robot we set off to walk to the harbour. After far too much walking for what seemed such a short distance on the map, updated GPS' were used to confirm that I had led people in a terrible direction. We were going the right way, but the maps scale was off. Like that tricky on in San Fran – but at least that one told you about the wonky scale.

Abandoning our search for the harbour, we made our way for lunch. Kobe beef lunch. I had already confirmed that I'd pay fifty dollars for this lunch – I mean, why not, right? But when the time came, and the price had jumped to over eighty, I just couldn't do it. I could not justify that expenditure. Somewhere I have a budget, and even though I can't check my funds online at the moment, as I screwed up my password three times, it still exists.

What's thirty dollars more in the grand scheme? A slippery slope!

I used the time exploring a nearby shrine, and it was beautiful and wonderful. Full of blu-somes. I then checked out he local arcade where Pachinko still seems foreign, scary, and too advanced for me. I did check out a guy rocking out on a ridiculously hard piano-hero type game, and saw the second generation of Mario Kart arcade machines.

After that? Yoshinora for a tasty rice bowl treat.

Also – since I had the magic long distance phone for people to call me on when they were finished eating, I may have also called up Katherine for a wee bit. Success for no bills.

I'm told the beef was wonderful, and magical, and everything people had dreamed of. Good. I'm glad. Some day I'll return without needing to save money for the next four months – ugh – and that will be a great time to try it out. I should also develop a love of steak first too. That might be a good idea.

From lunch we headed to a sake brewery to see where the magic happens. I hate sake. I do. It's terrible.

But the brewery? It was pretty good. Apparently they even let drunks take the tour, and then have a free drink when it's over. And then they let said drunks take the tour and repeat. It was a sad and painful thing to see – but, it was interesting.

Also – don't eat the sake cake. I don't care how hungry you are. It will just lead to you rolling it into a small ball, making a pinch pot out of it, and hiding it behind a sign.

After the tour we headed to a museum where I looked at all the information, and displays, and took pictures wearing sake making costumes. Others went to the bar where, by buying on drink, they had six more pushed on them by the bartender who figured – hey – it's closing time. Terrible things would happen to those people, and by terrible I mean wonderful.

More sake was purchased and consumed in McDonald's leading to shouts about how iDogs were wanted now, now, now!

I'm glad I hate sake – and drank no more than the little taste they gave you at the end of the tour.

And while the english guide summed up in ab out one sentence, what the Japanese guide took a minute or so to say, I'm fairly sure I'm now educated enough in the ways of brewing this beverage.

From there we headed to China Town. A collection of shops, restaurants, coloured light (can hypnotize), and alleyways.

I found the little string head guys I bought for about thirty cents in Bangkok on sale here for five dollars, and up. The exact same ones. I guess Bangkok really was a lot cheaper. Good for it. It's a shame I doubt I'll ever be back, and by shame I mean I'm totally cool with it.

I had so forgotten what it was like to love travelling, and not have time to do anything else but just make it through your day so you can start a new adventure on the next. Even if it does mean that you'll have to write dozens of posts at a later time in one constant effort to not go crazy. Nor would there be time to eat during those breaks. Eyes on the prize! Indeed, that's just how it is.

I found a can of Final Fantasy Elixir, and purchased it. It was – well it was pretty terrible. But it had a dude with a Chocobo in his afro on it, and how could I pass that up?

Back at the hostel, I caught up on lost, and copied all my photos on to Mike's hard drive to prevent an accidental wipe of a card screwing me up terribly in the future.

Wonderful.

Arashima, Kyoto

Oh, so this the Kyoto that people show pictures of. I understand now.

Once you get out of Kyoto proper, and pull yourself from the fantastic glass roofed main train station, you can find yourself in all sorts of old worldy looking places. Arashima is once such location.

If you go to Kyoto, it's really here that you're going. You may not know that yet, but you'll eventually figure it out. This is the Kyoto that people talk about, and if you miss it you'll be wondering just what they were smoking as all you'd have seen is office tower after office tower.

Here you have the small wooden houses, and the shrine after shrine. There's lakes, and trees, and back alleys to explore. And there's the bamboo forest. That's where we headed first. I think this may have been the first thing Tonia saw that she wanted to. Again, I think girls would love to see shop after shop of anime figures, but apparently that's just not the case. They want forests. Of bamboo.

On our way through the towering trees we were told about real-life ents (trees that moved.) A quick check of the internet on someone's blackberry proved this to be sadly false, but the moment still called for quiet reflection about the world in which we're living. Here I was in the middle of a bamboo forest (with a paved path through it taking away any feelings of wilderness, but not awe) I was able to use a hand held device to check the internet – a repository of human knowledge, and disprove something. Sure we don't have flying cars, but we have the complete ships computer of the starship Enterprise in our back pockets. If that's not future – then I don't know what is! How's that for juxtaposing Kyoto.

It also made me a little sad.

Half way through the forest we came to a shrine for lovers. Mike and Tonia sat on the steps basking in each others true awesomeness. It was cute enough to make you hurl. Curse them and their happiness. I wish them only the best – but still, cute enough to puke,.

Back to the forest!

As we came out of bamboo we found ourselves on a road to the shrine at the other end of the city. Doll shops, with said items hanging from trees, and granite hello kitty tombstones made our walk a more surreal experience. When we finally reached the shrine we shrugged and thought, alright time to head back.

However this would not be the case. Mike persuaded us to pay the four dollars and go in. And indeed we were lucky to have done so. How can one come to Kyoto and not go into any of these fantastic buildings? We'd been passing them up all day. But here we were at one of the best in the country – so in we went.

But not before a baseball team ran by, en mass. And not before a number of girls with messed up knees from pigeon toed walking (which is a status of beauty here) wandered in front of us.

I understand ninja video games so much better now.

Look, I know this shouldn't be my first thought at entering such a serene location, but it was. A number of buildings with mat floors were connected to one another by wooden walkways suspended off the ground above moss-covered statues, ponds, and small shrubs. This is where you fight every enemy in every ninja game since the beginning of time.

I thought these were just artificial locations, or things thought up, digitalized from the past. But no, here I was, standing in just such a location. It was truly awe inspiring. Yes there were beautiful kimonos and flags with intricate stitch work, not to mention the great displays being set up for an important visitor of whom we never really learned. But to be inside a game. Well that was something else.

I know, I know, I'm sorry. I like culture too – but I've seen so much culture over the last great many months that it's nice to feel something else as well.

Once the area was explored Mike, Tonia, and I headed down the street to walk around a lake that our ticket allowed us access too. It was here that I was told I needed to see Horton Hears a Who (We are here, we are here, we are here!) and then discovered that Tonia is the type of person, who like me, will sing Disney songs at top volume. Wonderful!

The pond was also beautiful – as you can guess, reflecting cherry blossoms. Yes, there have been a lot of them, but they haven't gotten old yet. Still impressive!

When Alan showed up it became a little worrying. Alan and Tonia have the only phones. We stick with one of them at all times, lest we are lost forever. Where were Nick and George? (Stew was gone, back to Tokyo with she who hurt her leg the night before. He would be coming back at night, but for her – this trip was at and end. Japan had truly won.)

After our circuit of the pond we found Nick and George. They were none to happy to be left alone, waiting, for who knows how long. But there was no time to dwell on this. We needed to eat ten different meals all at once. Ten course meals – before three is for chumps.

This meal, a step up from even that of the onsen, was something to experience. Served one dish after the next, we barely had a chance to finish eating before more food was placed in front of us. At one point it was heard screamed out, “Stop coming so fast, I'm not done yet!” We'll just leave it at that.

The noodles, and meats, and fishes, and vegetables, and – everything – were fantastic. There was but one part that made me queasy. The squid and the octopus. I'd already eating a full squid last time I was here. Seeing their tiny body and knowing I needed to eat it? This was not what I was looking forward to. But Japan would not let me escape without jumping through this hoop again, it seemed.

The worst part? The saw they explode and gush in your mouth. Ugh – really? Really squid?!

But once that was past through, everything became a treat once more. And after that – the octopus? Not bad. Actually quite good. Sure it looks weird at the end of your chopsticks, but hey – those suckers are for winning!

Back at the hostel I was able to borrow one of my buddy's magic long distance cell phones, and call my grandmas. Because I'm a sweetie.

Stew also returned – I think he road a train we were not allowed to, if the schedule made sense, but he returned no worse off. And all the sea food in the big meal would have just killed him anyway (literally) so it's for the best, I guess.

Tomorrow? Good-bye Kyoto, hello Kobe.

Off to Kyoto

Back to Tokyo to catch a train to Kyoto – trust me, it's faster this way.

Here's what wasn't fast, nor easy – trying to communicate that we wanted to get to Kyoto. I'm used to Japanese people knowing basic english, or enough that I can say a city name and have it all work out. Not so much here. So we tried to talk some basic Japanese, and use a english to Japanese dictionary.

Suffice to say, mistakes were made.

Here's what I thought I was saying, “We want the fast train to Kyoto.”
Here's what I was saying, “We want you on the train where you don't eat, to Kyoto.”

The thing is I continued to stress the point that I wanted to fast train, “Fast, fast, fast.” I was telling him over and over that he should not eat. Stupid two meanings for the word fast!

Somewhere else, other parts of our group were talking about how they wanted to be on the Shy Train, using a synonym that I'm sure made sense in English, but of course meant nothing the same in Japanese.

Eventually we had tickets, and all was right and well in the world. Then it was off to Kyoto, chairs fixed in friendship mode for easy conversation, no need to climb over seats to get at people.

This was another beautiful day. Blue skies, sun out, and after all the cloud it was welcomed. So of course we spent the whole day on the train. Of course we did.

By the time we had checked into our Kyoto place, and made our way to the street, the sun was nearly down. We moved as fast as we could but when we got off the train near a castle, the sun was all but gone. Making our way through the town was a little disappointing. People tell you Kyoto is a beautiful city. They say it's old Japan. They are wrong! It is a city like all others. It has a giant neon tower that makes the CN Tower look almost normal. Sure there are some parks, but it's all Family Mart, Lawsons, Circle K, and Sunkis just like the rest of this country. There are no wooden houses, no special environments. No nothing. It's just Japan as it is everywhere else: Urban sprawl.

Still there was a park in the centre of town, and we headed straight for it. Walking there at night was a wonderful experience. Stew said he didn't want to go in unless there was a Master Sword inside (a la Zelda. ) I told him that as this was once the home of the emperor, I was pretty sure there actually would be a master sword within. Fair enough, and off we went.

How could I know this would soon spell doom for us all?

Right as we were about to leave the park, and I spotted a sign with a creepy military alien holding the hand of a pregnant little girl (go to the south end of the park in Kyoto – it's white with blue background – you'll know it instantly, with his weird Mr. Fantastic arm) I head a cry from behind me.

When I got back to the group the girl whom Japan had been trying t kill, was finally put out of commission. It seems that a curb sprang up before her, sending her flying, and injuring her ankle.

The next hour or so would be spent by people fetching ice for her, and carrying her on their backs to the train station where she could be put on a car with Stew, ever the gentleman, helping her get back to the room (as he had helped me only days earlier.) What alovely self-sacrificing gentleman. Still, it meant he would miss the few moments where Kyoto actually looked as it had been sold to us.

Once the injury hubub had settled we walked off to the Geisha district. We saw none. Not even the tourists dressed up to look like Geishas (the ones most tourists have pictures of, thinking otherwise) and then wandered down by the river. As we walked under the darkned sky the restaurants seemed to be such forbidden locations, offering such culinary treats at prices that put them far beyond our reach. Still – there they were, reflecting off the water, designed in the old way, something foreign and different to me.

The walk from there to the station took us under Cherry Blossom lined roads, lit perfectly in the dark, and past a large temple that I told myself I should return to, knowing that I would never have the time to get back to it.

From there it was on the train back to the hostel, where plans were made to get out to some of the more remote areas of the city. There were bamboo forests out there, and by mercy we were going to see them!

Isawa Onsen

Rushing to Shinjuku station we filled out our paper work, grabbed our rail pass, and then headed off to catch our train from Tokyo to the Isawa-Onsen.

That process was far more hectic than those lines make it out to be, but never mind that – we had our rail passes, the magic cardboard booklets that would let us go pretty much anywhere in the country we wanted to without further payment. These are gems to be held and loved. Only available to foreign tourists, the JR pass is a wonderful investment for anyone looking to see Japan. I'll never travel without.

Well – I will if they screw it up. I hear the EuroRail pass used to be like this, just get on the train and go. But now you need to pay booking fees, and all that. Not so with the JR pass. You want to reserve a seat? Free. Say you miss that train, free to book a new one. Want to book every train for the next three hours? Go ahead. Just hope no one else needed those seats. Still – it's not costing you a dime, and you'll be prepared to travel just about anywhere and anywhen you want.

Booking our tickets so late, we were split up amongst three different cars. But that was alright, it gave me an excuse to walk around when my legs needed stretching. It was also discovered that on Japanese trains seats can be swiveled into friendship mode, having two rows face each other. I'm sure this is probably so they don't need to turn the train around, just move the seats and start going the other direction. But I prefer to think of it as Japan's way of suggesting people get to know each other.

When we finally arrived at our new digs it seemed rather lovely, too lovely, though the town was somewhat of a drag.

Never mind that, we were just a fifteen minute train away from Kofu. There was a castle in Kofu! I'd never seen a Japanese castle before. Yawn. There's reason for that. It' just a wooden hut on a hill. Lord of the Rings this was not. Still, it was lovely, and there was a cherry blossom tree. I just needed to move a garbage can behind some bushes to clear it from my shot.

Also, I discovered that rolling down hills is all sorts of fun, save for when you stop on the gravel below. I wonder if the previous owners of the castle ever rolled down the hill for kicks.

A few kilometers from the castle was a shrine. That was our next destination, after a quick refueling on Mackers. Yeah, we'd been eating a lot of McDonald's lately, but my god those Shaka Shaka! You don't understand!

The magic of memory has removed the painfully long hike – more than just a few kilometers – from the castle. Curse you map.

Still, seeing the arching gates and exploring inside was still a fantastic experience. There were, of course, more blossom (or blu-somes as I'd, for reasons I can't quite understand or recall, taken to calling them.) There were math questions all over this shrine. There also happened to be chickens walking around, leading one of our illustrious companions to cry out, “this place is just like Waterloo – math and cocks everywhere.”

True.

Once Kofu was behind us, and we'd made our way back to our far too nice hotel, diner was ready to be served. Kneeling on the ground in front of our low tables we were served by a Japanese woman. Dish after dish was brought to us. And it was wonderful, and quite a treat. This meal alone seemed to have been worth the price of entry to the hotel. And all things being equal, it probably was the main part of the price – as our room was a simple floor with mattresses down. Yeah, it's a traditional Japanese sleeping space, and while I liked it quite a lot, it's not what others would call five starts. For me? Fantastic – and, you know, the meal... The meal!

Japanese food – I love it. Are there Japanese restaurants in Toronto? I've never seen any that I recall – and no, Sushi places do not count.

After dinner we went to the onsens. For those who don't know, these are traditional Japanese group baths. You shower and clean yourself before going into the bath, and then place your modesty towel on your head, once you're submerged. Then you're sitting in a warm bath – in our case, an outside rocky pool that was far better than the one inside (as the heat was just far too much in there) with a large number of people. The two onsens were divided by gender. Hmm by gender or by sex? They probably would have been divided by sex, now that I think better of my word choice.

So as it was, a number of us were in one, while the two girls were in the other (apparently taking pictures. I don't question these things, but I tell you what – we all left our cameras back in the room. And it was, no doubt, for the best!)

We also dubbed the type of crouched moving done in army video games as wang walking. Confused? Go to an onsen, it will make a lot of sense very quickly.

After an hour or so, it was back to our room, watch some tv, wonder where the girls are as they should have been back (one fell asleep – ai ya – that's nearly a death sentence. Considering she had already slipped between the train and the tracks – such a thing should not be humanly possible... both feet/legs wedged between track and train. She was pulled out and saved, but really – Japan is trying to kill her.), put on our fantastic yukata, and then have a ninja dance party.

There was also a Taiko drum show – but how could that ever compare to Ninja dance party? It was like regressing back to high school, or even the pre-high school days.

Fantastic! Then to sleep – there was a breakfast buffet the next day that probably shouldn't be missed, even if breakfast in Japan is normally just fish and rice.

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.