A Year in Japan

October 2002

October kicked off with the strongest (apparently), typhoon (Number 21 this year) that our area has witnessed since World War Two. Inevitably, since I don`t watch Japanese news on TV, I had no idea it was coming. That morning, in the pouring rain, I dragged UK Matthew up Mt Tsukuba for the first time. His lungs nearly burst but he made it. We returned like drowned rats before I headed for Shimodate school.

The winds arrived and faxes flew around the schools about typhoon warnings and to drive home at the speed of the ice age. Most of the childrens` mothers cancelled their classes to keep their kids indoors. The wind nearly blew the school`s front door off its hinges. Leaving at 10pm that evening, the car was rocked around by the wind, but the rain had stopped. The roads were covered in large puddles of water or large branches snapped from trees. Bags of rubbish blew across the road or bounced off the car. UK James told me later that an inflatable paddling pool bounced off his windsceen. Which was nice. Danielle`s school suffered a powercut and everyone left early. Stopping off at a massive Jusco supermarket for some beer (as you do), I was amazed to find it deserted. Just a cashier, security guard and me. The usual suspects gathered at Grimdale for late night drinking and to watch various pieces of laundry fly around the air.

Two days previously on Sunday, Matthew and I had attended an `Ikebana` exhibition. Ikebana is the art of flower arranging. It has its roots in ancient Shinto (the Japanese religion) rituals, Buddhist practice and a Japanese aesthetic that balances three components to create a dynamic image. It reached its peak in the 16th Century on the coattails of the tea ceremony. "Originally the emphasis was on presenting materials and forms in ways which imitated their natural state. While the materials remained natural, the ideology evolved to employ three leading sprays which signify the sky, earth and people; the sprays are arranged to express the harmonic balance of these three elements in nature" (Rough Guide). The four main styles of ikebana are `Shokai` (living flowers), formal `Rikka` (standing flowers), `Noribana` (heaped flowers) and the more naturalistic `Nage ire` (thrown in).

A large room at the plush International Congress Centre, had long tables with lines of exhibits. There were beautiful works of art of Shokai, Rikka and Noribana. Each peice had a lable with style and the list of flowers used such as African daisies, bird of paradise and one I had never heard of, called the `nipple flower` (use your imagination). We talked to Mikako Arashi, the young lady who ran the local classes. Some exhibits were huge. They had to be constructed in the room. It was very peaceful. We were given cups of strong cold black coffee to which we added `gum syrup` to sweeten it. A few westerners turned up, but it was mostly Japanese women, though we talked to the only two Japanese men who attend the classes.

Outside the lobby, we were invited to sit and try to produce our own Ikebana. We were each given a bouquet of flowers and a lovely blue base with that strange green foam that is used to hold the water and flowers. First I trimmed three large daisies to different lengths and stuck them in. Then I surrounded them with green folliage at a lower level and also added delicate sprays of tiny white flowers around and above the daisies. Finally, three strands of green steel grass were looped over the ensemble. Throughout the creation, we were both advised by an woman instructor. Various Japanese women gathered around and hummed and harred and pronounced my work as `cute`. I think it would be classified as Nage ire (thrown in) style, but it was an interesting experience. We were very impressed when they told us to take our works home as `gifts`.

On the way back to Grimdale, we saw a long convoy of black and occasionally, white buses. There were huge loudspeakers on the roofs, blaring out Japanese military songs, and large Imperial Flags hanging off the sides and back (the old Japanese flag used in World War Two with the red sunrays, eventually replaced by the Rising Sun flag, the plain red circle on white). It was the Japanese Nazi Party, a hated minority in Japan who believe that they never lost the war, that the Emperor should be returned to his superior position above society, (rather than his current status as a constitutional monarch), and that, er, all foriegners should be kicked out of Japan.

Picking up US Kip and UK James, the four of us returned into Tsukuba centre to watch them drive around the streets (some, ironically in American pick up trucks). The buses, many with darkened windows or steel mesh over them, were mostly empty. Some occupants wore military uniforms. The route had small groups of Japanese riot police standing around. They were dressed in blue uniforms, helmits and long shields. I took some photos of the convoy and we noticed that we were being filmed by the riot police. I didn`t realise that Japan had a Nazi Party, which most Japanese are rather embarressed about. Some of these processions get very ugly (explaining the riot police) but the Tsukuba residents just appeared to ignore them.

In a recent newpaper article, I read that Japanese babies can expect to live longer than any others on earth. The average girl should live until 85, boy to 78. Japan has more citizens over the age of 100 than any other nation. They also have the oldest man and woman alive. Last year, the number of over 70s eclipsed the under 10s for the first time. The Government is considering raising the retirement age to 70 to save Japan`s pension and healthcare systems from collapsing under the weight of an aging and shrinking population. One of my students, Keiko, has a father who is still running their agricultural grain company. He is 88 and works 10 hours a day, 6 days a week!

The Tsukuba marathon beckoned in less than 2 months. Overweight, undertrained and feeling a little worn out, I continued to play tennis regularly with James and I finally lost my undefeated champion status to the young upstart. Our long sweaty matches continued to entertain the Japanese housewives with their private lessons in the adjoining courts. I attempted to up my mileage (from, er, basically 0) to as long as I could jog for, without stopping; about 90 minutes. I would then spend the rest of the day at the schools creaking around with sore joints. Weight training consisted of lifting the kids up and hanging them upside down by their ankles. A few mothers looked shocked but the kids loved it. But my ankle kept giving way on the jogs. I had pulled a tendon or something and was forced to just rest it for days on end, as the time slipped away. Lets just say at this point, I am a little pessimistic at the prospect of completing my 20th marathon.

One morning I taught at Yaita Elementary School which I had visited before. The subject for the two classes was animal words (and the relevant sounds eg moo moo, baa baa etc). The kids were all very `genki` (happy and keen) and after each class, they would all line up to get my autograph which I only had to sign about 50 times that morning. The following week I went to Obari Elementary School to teach a couple of classes to tell the time. On the Q&A session I get before each class, a small boy asked me how old I was. I told him to guess. The kid replied `63!' (good humour for a 7 year old). I hung him upside down by his ankles as the other children fell about in hysterics until I got the age down to 29! I am used to the Japanese teachers taking my photo when I teach, but two teachers kept a video camera running as well as taking digital photos. One reappeared later, having printed off some of the photos of me on a colour printer. My initial reaction was `guess that diet isn`t working`.

On Saturday morning (12th), I left early for Narita Airport to pick up my old workmate from Warwickshire College. Paul was a couple of years older, tall, slim and athletic (so, er, nothing like me). We had done lots of recreational activities together in England (`Tough Guy` competition, climbing the 14 x 3000ft mountains in Wales, canoeing down the River Wye, various runs, triathlons etc). I was always badgering him to try something new. He would look at my body and think `Well if he can do it, I must be able to`. He had managed to persuade his wife, Susan that she should sit at home for a week and look after their two children while he swanned around Japan. She agreed `As long as Bob doesn`t make you do anything stupid` . As if....

Paul`s plane was late and we had to rush back to Shimodate for my teaching shift. When I first arrived in Japan I would teach 2pm to 10pm on a Saturday. Then it was reduced to 2pm to 8pm and now it was 12.30pm to 6pm, giving me the Saturday night off. Paul unable to sleep on planes had been up for 2 days but was pretty chirpy. Paul had sent me a list of what he wanted to see and do. At your service Sir! Watching me teach was on the list. He sat in on an adult class asking them questions and then watched me teach a kids class and put the kindergarten kids through the motions. Embarressingly, he videoed some of my performance and watching Uncle Bob going `Choo choo` with the kindies in tow as a train is not a pretty sight.... Believe me! Stifling his laughter, Paul slipped out to explore Shimodate and have a nap in the car while I finished teaching.

`I don`t know how you keep it up` he said afterwards. `Five and half hours with only one 15 minute break and its full on stuff, all the time`. Back at Grimdale, I showed him how we did it by opening a selection of fine Japanese ales and introducing him to some of the gang. Paul had kindly brought me a large Red Cross parcel of English cheese, chocolate, powdered soup, biscuits, polos, teaching materials and some CDs and magazines from another friend, Mark. Real food again!

Around midnight, we were hanging out at English Matthew`s when Irish Tom walked in looking rather distressed. He had come to tell us that US Sam, his best mate here, currently in Thailand at the start of his travels after an 18 shift in Japan, had rented a moped the previous day and been killed by a truck. Immediate silence. The entire teaching staff at Grimdale congregated at Danielle`s for a spontaneous wake. We sat around and told antedotes and stories about Sam. He was one popular guy. His students loved him and the teachers loved him. He was 27 and had his whole life ahead of him. Our thoughts went out to Christina (also a teacher here) who was stuck out in Thailand trying to sort out the mess. I had sat down with Sam only a fortnight before and planned his trip of Southeast Asia with him. I felt sorry for Paul. Here he was, 12 hours in Japan and he had to deal with this atmosphere. I think I crawled to bed around 4am.

The following morning, we were off early, north to Nikko. I had visited it in March so some of the following is a repeat of an earlier update. Nikko has a fabulous complex of multi-coloured temples and shrines, and national park scenery crowned by pristine lakes in the mountains. Monday would be a public holiday and this was the Sunday on a long weekend and the traffic was gridlocked around Nikko. While the Japanese patiently waited in line for hours, I disappeared off sideroads and did mystery tours around sleepy rural hamlets, and skirted around the gridlock. A few Japanese seemed to get the idea and followed me. My March visit had seen the mountain ranges around Nikko covered in snow. Today, on a gloriously sunny day, the Toshigi Ken hills looked speactacular with the endless green forests providing a backdrop of green.

Tosho-Gu is a World Heritage listed site - the antithesis of the usually austere Shinto shrines and often considered overbearingly gaudy and grandiose as far as typical Japanese architecture goes. It is visited all year round by Japanese pilgrims. It began in 1616 when a Shogun (warlord) left instructions in his will to have a shrine built in his honour. But his grandson felt it didn`t do him justice work began on the elaborate mausoleum seen today. It was completed in 1634.

Nikko Complex Photos

When I had visited it previously, it was early, drizzly and I had the place almost to myself. Today the place was heaving with Japanese tourists, tour groups and the occasional westerner all out to enjoy the sun. The main entrance to Tosho-Gu was an impressive red and green 5 storey pagoda. Entering through an ornate gate , we passed the Sacred Storehouses and Sacred Stables which now contained a Sacred Horse, a lovely white mare (donated by the New Zealand Government). We lined up with the tourists to see the Sacred Horse being led from his Sacred Stable, probably for his Sacred Crap around the corner. The stables were covered in wooden carvings of monkeys, which were reputed to fend off diseases in horses.

To visit the Shrine, we passed through the Yomeimon (Sun Blaze Gate); Japan`s finest gate decorated with wildly ornate carvings, gilt and intricate laquer work which glittered in the sun. Paul soon got fed up with the quaint Japanese custom of removing your shoes before entering a building. `I knew I should have bought some bloody slip ons` while retying his walking boots for the thirteenth time. Inbetween the teeming hoards, we spotted a Japanese man, pushing his white poodle around in a kids chair on wheels. I dashed up to take his photo and he stopped to pose with his dog. Other westerners were trying not to burst out laughing at this sight.

We checked out all the usual stuff and took a stroll around the Japanese strolling garden. Having now visited many Shinto shrines around Japan, I can safely say that this is the most unique one. (I had called it `anti climatic` on my first visit). We had hoped to drive up to Chuzenji Lake in the mountains, but late afternoon, the road leaving Nikko was gridlocked. We moved 2 km in 40 minutes, gave up and turned around. We couldn`t work out why the Japanese sat it out. The sunset was in less than 30 minutes and they`d see nothing, but still they waited in line.

On the way home we popped into a Pachinko palour with its flashing signs and neon lights. Pachinko is one of Japan`s top pastimes and major industries. It is a vertical pinball game of limited skill. Inside, the noise of thousands of steel balls clattering through the upright electronic baguatelles with cute cartoon video screens in the centre, was deafening, yet rows of players sat mesmorized as they controlled the speed of the balls through the machine. The aim of Pachinko is for balls to fall into the right holes so more balls can be won and traded in for prizes and cash. Some players had pink trays of balls won piling up behind them. Paul was hypnotized by the bombardment of noise, the endless smoking by players and the sheer lack of moment. Or maybe it was flabbergasted. `This is the best thing I have seen so far. This is what Japan is all about`.

Photos of Pachinko Palours

For me, Japan is all about exciting trips a Kusumi Supermarket in Tsukuba for the late night discounts on a range of Japanese food such as sushi. This allowed Paul to gorge himself on various delicacies while watching the Sunday night movie `Godzilla` on my bilingual TV. (Admittedly, we were thrown a bit at the start of the movie which was set in Japan and Japanese was spoken. I kept pressing my English button on the remote, saying, `why doesn`t it work?` Doh!)

On Monday, the public holiday, we explored the Tsukuba area. We watched local people cut and stack turf in their fields. The rural countryside was full of ripe orange periguine fruit on the trees. Paul would periodically jump out of the car to try some strange Japanese fruit growing on trees. We also checked out the `Hound From Hell`. Paul had already been woken by the `Jogger From Hell` Or rather, because of my loud snoring, he was already awake. He was glad he had brought his earplugs! We popped to my local dump where I found a decent carpet and a squash racket. Then Paul spotted a set of golf clubs. A full set of golf clubs with the bag and balls! He was shocked that someone would throw it out. So we dragged our goodies back to the flat. Not that I can afford to play golf here. But I can drive a few balls into the paddy fields.

The University of Tsukuba was having an Open Day Festival so we went along to see what was happening. The University has a large attractive campus full of woodlands near the centre of the city. The buildings are the usual plain utilitarian affairs you find at modern universities. The festival was held among the main admin buildings and next to the lake we found a vast array of foodstalls manned by students. These offered the usual Japanese snack foods like octopus balls, mongi and curried rice. The students would try and encourage you to stop and buy something. Paul tried everything on offer. Student acapello groups warbled through western standards. Next door, two dozen students dressed in white martial art uniforms demonstrated synronised judo moves. When men and women were matched, the men would do slow motion rolling somersaults (as if hurled by the women). On a gloriously sunny day, it was a very relaxed affair with lots of smiling happy faces.

My guidebooks all said that today was also the start of the famous two day festival at Kawagoe in northwest Tokyo, so we drove down there late afternoon, with US Kip in tow in his own car. I thought the traffic was a little light around Kawagoe and we soon discovered that the festival had been moved to the following Saturday (Doh!). We walked around the dark streets and stumbled across an outside communial karaoke evening. A stage had been set up with speakers. A large audience of `senior citizens` sat on benches. Someone would introduce the singer, either an elderly man or woman. They would then sing a traditional Japanese song (an acquired taste!). Someone saw us standing on the roadside watching it and ushered us in to a bench at the front. A man presented us with cans of beer and then produced a rice meal for us. More beer was provided by another man. It was a lovely display of spontaneous Japanese hospitality shown to `gaigin` strangers. Each singer had their own supporters who would wave candles or small torches in time to the music (a Japanese equivalent to lighters held aloft at rock concerts to favourite ballards?). Eight children were eventually led onto stage to sing a Japanese pop song. It was simply dreadful and we bowed out gracefully.

Our original plan was to spend the evening at the festival and drive on to Fuji Yoshida. So we stuck to the plan and left Kip to make the lonely trek home while we headed up into the hills around Mt Takao, tackling the endless dark twisty roads. Making good time, we were astounded to see a 10km tailback of traffic on the other side of the road around 10pm. It was the holiday traffic leaving the Mt Fuji area. I was familiar with Fuji Yoshida but the whole town appeared to be shut up and deserted at 11.30pm. We eventually found a business hotel that was still open and affordable. The downside was that the ground floor was being completely gutted and renovated. Our 3rd floor room in the annex was mercifully untouched, though we had to walk past rooms of rubble to reach it. No wonder we could afford it!

But the room was comfortable and in the morning, from our room, we were presented with a spectacular view of Mt Fuji in all its glory. It was the first time that I had seen it from a distance with its conical cone covered in snow at the summit; the kind of view you see in all the tourist brochures.

The sky may have been light blue but the winds were very strong and we could see the snow being blown off the summit in great gusts. The fastest roller coaster in the world had been shut down because of the wind. So we spent the day touring the Fuji 5 Lakes area. When I had last seen them, it was a gloomy day. Today it was a crisp sunny autumn day and the leaves had started to change. I still felt that the Lake District in England could hold its own in comparative beauty.

It is always interesting to tour with someone else. Even repeating familiar sights, something different will catch the other person`s eye. With Paul it was `Lava Tree Moulds` and, er, `Parasitic Trees`. Not exactly in the Top 20 tourist sights in Japan. Mt Fuji last erupted in 1707 (and is due another one soon pretty soon) and the lava spills had seeped down through the forests and surrounded the enormous tree trucks. The trees had been incinerated as the lava cooled leaving large vertical holes where the trees had stood.

Likewise, trees that had fallen in the eruption but avoided the lava, provided the only nutrition for the next generation of growth. So `parasitic trees` were growing from the remains of 300 year old Japanese pine trees. Paul with his interest in fauna and flora was entralled. I started looking for a shop specialising in anoraks. We also checked out `Doggy World` (from the outside). This seemed to be based on the attraction of having various small cuddly dogs kept in cages for the Japanese to ooh and arr at. Not surprisingly, it was deserted.

Paul was impressed by the Fuji Sengen Jinga Shinto shrine at the foot of Mt Fuji. In front of the shrine were two enormous cedar trees with massive girths. Upon closer inspection, our intrepid botanist realised that three trees had been grown together over 200 years ago, and then the `joins` had been covered by squares of bark from other trees so that it looked like one tree. Not a lot of people know that.... and probably less even care.

He might have cracked that one, but he couldn`t make an international phone call. .Paul wanted to call his wife, Susan and attempting to use a public telephone, was introduced to the Japanese way `of doing things`. Firstly, he had to find a grey telephone which allowed international calls. Each one is owned by one of a dozen companies. To make a phone call, you have to have the company code to dial before you even start with the dialling code. Of course he didn`t know this. Failing to get through, he attempted operator assistance and was passed on to three different people, none of whom spoke English. He gave up. Fortunately, I found the relevant code in my guide book. Whenever you try something for the first time in Japan, there is a frustrating `learning curve`. Once you crack it, you tick it off and say `Well I can do that now`.

At lunchtime, we found a small restaurant where we sampled `Udon` (thick noodles). Our cute waitress spoke a little English. She was married to a Japanese man who had been working in England for 5 years. She only saw him twice a year. `Its like a divorce` she concluded. The restaurant TV was showing the `live` arrival of the Japanese abductees who had been kept in North Korea for 25 years and had been allowed to visit their families in Japan as part of the diplomatic thaw between the two countries. It was a major media event. As they stepped off the plane, the whole restaurant stopped and even the kitchen staff came out to watch. We returned to the restaurant in the evening and met some Japanese diners. One was apparently the `fastest runner` up Mt Fuji. He told us that it was -30`c at the summit.

Undeterred, we rose at 5.30am the next morning to find another clear view of Mt Fuji. The overnight howling storms in the area had been frozen on the slopes and it looked like some giant had sifted enormous amounts of icing powder over Mt Fuji. We estimated that the snow had doubled overnight and the snow line had definitely been lowered. The winds had dropped and it looked like a perfect autumn day for climbing Japan`s highest mountain. The `official` climbing season is only between July and August and every lodge north of 5th station had been closed down on the mountain. Even the large tourist information centre in town had been closed. On my previous successful attempt in late June, I had used a secret lumber road to make my ascent. This time, we used the official toll road up to 5th station. We wound our way along an empty twisting roads through the forests turning into their autumnal colours. En route, we spotted a strange animal grazing on a ledge above us. It stood and stared at us and didn`t move, while we scrambled for cameras. I thought it was a wild boar, but it appeared to be taller than a pig. Paul thought it might be a mountain goat but it seemed to be too stocky. Maybe we saw a rare animal. We never discovered what it might have been.

5th station at 2305m, is the last station to be connected by road. Most climbers start from here and it is the main centre for the daytrippers and tour groups. It was just a small group of wooden `alpine` buildings; shops, restaurants and carparks. At 7am, it was completely deserted, very windy and the temperature had dropped considerably. A young Fench couple arrived to climb it, so we teamed up and set off along an undulating surfaced trail and started to climb up a steadily rising, dull rocky trail to 6th station.

Here we found that ice had formed on the steps and rocks and made progress dangerously slippery. We continued to clamber up lava rocks covered in ice using the chains to pull ourselves up or keep our balance. It was a lovely crisp sunny autumnal morning, but the winds started to increase and the ice just got worse. Going up was not the problem. It was getting back down.

We maintained a comfortable pace, but it was slow going over the ice. By the time we reached 7th station, the snow and ice was everywhere. The French couple bowed out gracefully and said they were going down. Paul concurred with `I`ve got a wife and 2 kids to think about` (`Don`t do anything stupid, Paul!`). I suspect it was because he beloved video camera had frozen up and he couldn`t film the climb! Personally, at this point, I didn`t think it was any worse than some of the Scottish mountains I had climbed in winter. At this point I was still in shorts and a sweatshirt, gloves and hat. `I`m going on` I told Paul. It was 8.30am. Paul said he`d give me until 4pm. `If you`re not down by then, you`re dead`.

I knew the route and what to expect. What I did not expect were the howling icy winds. I clambered over the rocks and followed a solitary pair of frozen footprints. I wasn`t sure if they were from today or yesterday. We had seen noone else today. The trail turned into more endless grinds up rocky paths covered in snow. The wind blew razor sharp ice hailstones into my legs and face and I put on long trousers, waterproofs and my balaclava. A gust of wind came out of nowhere, lifted all 100kg of me off my feet and blew me across the trail. `Bloody hell. This is getting serious` I thought. The footprints continued and so did I. I was blown off my feet again and the hailstones were hammering my face so hard that I bent double while walking in the parts without shelter. I needed goggles. I struggled up to 8th station at 3400m. I could hardly stand on the ice around the deserted wooden lodge. I noticed that the footprints I had been following went around the lodge and doubled back returning to the `descending route`. I soon discovered why. The trail was completely covered in snow to the level where most of the guiding poles and ropes were under snow. It was impossible to work out where you were supposed to walk.

The Japanese have a famous proverb; `A wise man climbs Fuji once. A fool climbs it twice`. The winds were ferocious, the trail was invisible and I was up there on my own. I conceded defeat. It was a tough, arduous haul back down in the winds, using the chains and ropes to prevent me slipping and breaking a leg. It took an age. Retreating to 6th station, I noticed daytrippers ambling along below to get a view of the peak. I found Paul basking in the sunshine and wind free luxury of 5th station. I was back by midday. `Just as well` Paul smiled `I was about to start writing your obituary in an hour`. 5th station was now awash with tourists and tour groups, oblivious to the condiitons up there. They were happy enough to wander around and spend money in the shops. Paul was still thrilled at giving it his best shot and the wonderful views of the summit, and most importantly, that back down in the sun, his video camera worked.

We made our way back down the mountain as streams of cars and tour buses headed up to take advantage of the beautiful day. Fuji Yoshida Highlands Amusement Park, backdropped by Mt Fuji has a spectacular location, but is a little run down. Its major attraction is the world`s fastest rollercoaster at a scorching 107 mph! In the early sunny afternoon, we found a modest amount of young Japanese youth enjoying the thrills and spills on offer. We were only interested in the big ride so just paid for an entry fee to the park and that ride and only had to wait 15 minutes to board it. We sat in a buggy and were strapped in by seatbelts and padded supports. The rollercoaster began with a steep ascent up to about 80m with a marvellous view over the entire area and of Mt Fuji. I thought the initial climb was the scariest part, looking over the edge and looking at the long drop below. That long drop came sooner than expected as we left our stomachs at the top and plunged down the other side. I had to spread my hand over my face to keep my glasses from flying off but also allow me to watch my life past before me. We charged around a series of loops, steep rises and drops, steadily gaining speed. It was so fast you just hung on for dear life. Then the rollercoaster tackled a series of acutely angled bends so that we were roaring around on a 90`angle forever. Paul had been ok until then, but this assault on the senses had him wondering why he had agreed to the ride. I didn`t know a grown man could yell the word `Shhhhiiiitttt!` so loudly. Suddenly it was all over and everyone left with white faces but smiling, relieved to have survived. It was a fitting end to our stay at Mt Fuji.

Between us, we had done all the other rides in other theme parks, so we just wandered around. The waterslide ride looked great. The occupants were all given plastic macs to wear before they were whisked up to about 35m and plunged down into the water. The macs made no difference. When the rollercoaster hit the water, the water hit the sky, as high as the point they had just dropped from. It also hit them full in the face and was taken by the wind to the edge of the attraction over a walkway where unsuspecting pedestrians were drenched as well. One of my fondest memories of Japan was looking at a rather surprised couple standing there like drowned rats. They didn`t even see it coming. Gotcha!

Fuji Hakone Izu National Park

We drove south through the Fuji Hakone Izu National Park past attractive forested volcanic mountains bathed in beautiful sunshine and holed up in the small town of Sengokuhara, north of Lake Ashinoke. We checked into a youth hostel and were given a room covered in tatami mats and traditional sliding windows with wooden frames and paper windows. We slept on comfortable futons (thin mattress and thick eiderdown). The Youth Hostel had an onsen with endless naturally heated volcanic water to fill it. After soaping and scrubbing ourselves, we dipped a toe into the water. It was the hottest water I could remember trying to enter. But once you could take the heat, it was very soothing (an ice cold beer helped). We lay there like a couple of boiled eggs. It seemed even hotter the next morning.

We spent most of the following day exploring Paul`s list in the Hakone area ( some of which, it must be said, took some finding!). Around Sengokuhara, we checked up on the local golf course which was immaculate and where the golfers` equipment was washed and maintained by gang of women dressed up like country bumpkins with bonnets. The famous `pampas grass` was a large area of er, pampas grass, yellowing with the arrival of autumn.

On my last visit, the Hakone area looked (especially after sleeping in the car), miserable in the rain but today in beautiful sunshine, Lake Ashinoke, surrounded by the massive volcanic caldera of old mountains covered in green forests, looked spectacular. On the horizon, a perfectly visible and snow topped, Mt Fuji loomed majestically in the distance. At the Hakone Jinga Shrine (with a large red toreii gate rising from the lake), at Moto Hakone, we walked through the huge cedars lining the path to the shrine which was in a wooded grove. Here we watched half a dozen Shinto monks dressed in colourful but immaculate costumes and comical black shoes (the kind Mickey Mouse wears), go through a daily ceremony which appeared to involve waving branches around and blessing a statue. Then they all clomped off into a room to do, well, whatever they do.

We took in the Old Tokaido Highway, a 1614 road that once linked the ancient capital of Kyoto with Tokyo. It was a 2m wide collection of slippery. bumpy rocks that were difficult to walk on and not graded. It just went straight up the hill and is one of the oldest remaining roads in Japan. A set of small ornately carved Buddhas in a rock (dating from 1192 to 1333) set near a sacred lake, was as exciting as it sounds. It only took 30 minutes to find those. (Thanks Paul!). We also drove up Mt Soun Zan to Owakudani; a volcanic caldera of steam, bubbling mud and mysterious smells; or would have been, if we`d been let in to see it. The shops and carpark was packed with Japanese tourists, but because of `dangerous fumes`, the walkways had been closed down. Paul had hoped to boil an egg in the boiling mud, which, unsurprisingly, turns the egg black and gives it healing properties. He had to settle on buying some eggs which had been boiled recently (here`s some we prepared before the show). They were still very hot and, er, black. We stood around and looked at the steam emanating from the hillsides and signed a few autographs for Japanese schoolgirls. They probably thought we looked like Laurel and Hardy. Motorcar enthusiasts all seem to flock to the Hakone to take advantage of the empty, twisting roads. I spotted a Cobra sports car with two Japanese men dressed in old driving helmets and goggles like they were entrants in `The Love Bug` movie.

Alas, we had to push on. It was our last day on the road and we had to head back to Tsukuba. On the way home I took a diversion to show Paul a couple of things I`d seen before. At Odawara, we walked around the restored Japanese castle. Typically, Paul was more interested in a bunch of small kids collecting singing crickets and tiny black frogs in a bucket.

Driving along the coast to Kamakura, we had time to see the Kamakura Daibutsu (Great Buddha) completed in 1252 and Kamakura`s most famous sight. Cast in bronze and weighing 850 tonnes, the impressive statue is 13m high. It was a technological revelation at the time of its construction. More remarkable is that it has survived fires, cyclones and flooding. I had toured Kamakura extensively on the June roadtrip.

To return to Tuskuba, we had to tackle the Tokyo evening rush hour. Taking an easterly direction south of the centre, we made good progress past the neon lights, all the way to Hannida Airport where we joined the Shuto expressway built over the city. Here, heading north, we were bogged down in gridlocked traffic at every junction. At least Paul had an opportunity to have nighttime views over the largest and most expensive city in the world, which stretched out in every direction like a gigantic carpet of lights.

No rest for the wicked. Early the next morning I drove Paul to Ushiko train station for his two day excursion into Tokyo. Time off for good behaviour. We needed money and came across another Japanese `learning experience`. Usually I use my bank`s ATM during the day to extract money. But the ATM is INSIDE the bank and not accessible outside banking hours. We found an ATM at a Family Mart in Ushiko at 6.50am. Now, as you all know, the idea of an ATM is to get cash 24 hours a day. Not so in Japan! You can only access th ATM from 7am until 5pm. Doh! So we had to wait until the ATM started working. You live and learn.

I returned to the teaching grind. At the end of my final class on the Saturday afternoon, I was playing a Body and Head review game. I would sit on a chair and yell a body part and the 4 x 7 years olds all came rushing up. The first to touch the correct part (oo er) got a point. It was the `touching` bit that was the problem. I would yell `arm`, `leg`, `elbow` etc and they would over enthusiastically belt up and smack me hard. I could take it. Until I yelled `Chin`. Tiny 7 year old Shun came belting up and swung at my nose and clobbered me big time, cutting my nose. I got my revenge. I hung him upside down by his ankles and yelled `head` inviting the others to use their feet to kick him.

I picked up Paul later that night to hear about his tales. He`d had a brilliant time and had the video footage to prove it. At the Imperial Palace Gardens, he had spotted the Emperor of Japan and got a wave from him. He had wandered around the streets exploring, trying out various delicacies and had stayed in a Ryokan (a traditional Japanese Inn with an onsen bath) overnight. On the Saturday, he had caught a train to Kamagoe to watch the first day of the festival with the huge decorated Dashi floats being pulled around the streets; a boisterous affair when the floats meet each other.

It was Paul`s last night in Japan so a bunch of us headed out at 11pm to the local Japanese pub (interior decoration like an old English Inn, full of antiques) to sample some beer. Around 1am, we stopped in at the local transport cafe up the road from Grimdale, to sample some noodle dishes. I had been here before. To order your food and beer, you fed coins into a machine with a menu and got a ticket for the dish you wanted. You then passed it to the couple who ran the place who would then cook it for you in the open kitchen. It must have been a strange site for the couple to have 8 westerners lined up at the front counter, slurping away at their noodles as other late night Japanese revellers popped in. I think we left at 3,30am. Well, they did sell beer. Paul estimated that he`d averaged 3 hours sleep a night since he`d arrived.

Two hours sleep later, we headed for Narita Airport, stopping to take in the `Big Buddha` en route (the largest statue in the world). We then parked up in Narita to explore the Narita san Shinsho Ji Temple. It was my third visit, but there is always something new. Today, we saw a line of monks in traditional costumes clomping around in platform sandals as they escorted someone away for a personal beating, er, sorry, blessing.

Dropping Paul off at the Airport in time for his midday flight, he concluded by saying that he`d really enjoyed Japan which was a fascinating country. It had cast a spell over him, enough to say that 20 years younger and without the wife and kids, he would have seriously considered coming out for a job. He had enjoyed my teaching collegues and said I was lucky to be surrounded by some great people. But then, Paul, always was a compulsive liar... (only kidding)

On the Wednesday after Paul left, I had a day off and took off to Tokyo to see a gaggle of sights, or at least attempted to. I arrived in time for the morning rush hour on the trains. The Japanese seem to have got themselves organised and I did not see any more crushing than I would have on London Underground at 8am. On every platform, there are markings to show where the train`s doors will be when the train stops and the commuters continued to line up in an orderly fashion while waiting for the trains. The famous sight of white gloved train staff pushing people onto the trains only occurs infrequently in a few places.

From Shimbashi train station, I walked down to the Tokyo Central wholesale Market at Tsukiji, 56 acres of reclaimed land on the edge of Tokyo Bay. I walked around the vast deserted warehouses of Tokyo`s most famous fish market which turned out to be closed today (Doh!). So I walked to the affluent area of Ginza, the `place where silver is minted` (or was centuries ago). It was originally Tokyo`s most stylish shopping area, though it now has plenty of competition elsewhere in the city.

Widespan Photo of Ginza

Here, I came across Kabuki Za which has been the city`s principal Kabuki theatre since 1889. What is Kabuki? "Kabuki, Japan`s popular theatre, is colourful, exuberant and full of larger than life characters. It is a highly stylized theatrical form which delights in flamboyant gestures and elaborate costumes, make up and staging effects. While the language may still be incomprehensible, the plots themselves deal with easily understandable, often tragic themes of love and betrayal, commonly taken from famous historical episodes ....Kabuki originated in the early 1600s as rather risque dances performed by all female troupes. It developed into a more serious form of theatre later that century when kabuki was cultivated chiefly by the merchant class. It gave theatrical expression to the vitality of city life and to class tensions between Samurai, merchants and peasants" (Rough Guide).

The performances can last up to 4 hours! Fortunately for people like me, the theatre offers one act tickets at the door of the 1950`s replica of the original theatre. Photo of Kubuki Theatre So I paid my 1000 Yen and walked up to the 4th floor to grab a cheap seat at the top and back of the theatre for the 11am performance. The stage was enormous and a vast curtain was draped across it. Most of the audience were elderly Japanese women and the place was packed. Everyone seemed to have binoculars because of the distance between the stage and audience. You can get headphone translations if you watch an entire performance; or you could just massage your numb behind.

Before the curtain opened, a Japanese `Max Headroom` type of ventriloquist operated by a hidden person, warbled on, probably about the performance. Then the curtain was slowly pulled back revealing 24 people on stage in beautiful costumes. They were all seated crosslegged with their flowing costumes spread out. We began to watch the play Kanadehon Chushingura (the rather unracily titled `The Treasure of the 47 Retainers`), which according to my leaflet was `the most famous of the Kubuki repertory and is known throughout the world` Hands up those of you that have heard of it? What? None of you? The play had a host of popular Japanese actors who are called `Living National Treasures` until they, er, die when the `living` part gets removed.

I think Act 1 was `The Helmet Appraisal`. I quote from the leaflet `Daimyo lords from around the country gather for an important ceremony (which explained the 24 people on stage). Under the watchful eye of the official Morono, lords Enja Hangin and Wakasanosuke (these names just roll off the tongue don`t they) have been charged with making sure everything goes according to protocol. Enja Hangin`s wife, Kaoyo is asked to identify a helmet to be used in a ceremony. Morono is in love with Kaoyo and tries to woo her, but he is stopped by Wakasanosuke. In return, Morono uses his position of authority to berate the young lord and Wakasanosuke determines to attack Morono, even if it costs him his life`.

That only took 45 minutes. It was not exactly thrilling stuff. Slow, deliberate speeches and very little action. They occasionally moved. Probably to scratch their arses. Various members of the cast would troop off at intervals (in an attempt to stay awake?), and there appeared to be a Japanese woman somewhere around me who would bark when they did. I think it was to prompt the audience to applaud or wake them up. The play was accompanied by a couple of musicians; one with a seriously out of tune guitar who would provide narration in between the speeches. Despite the slowness, it was a marvellous spectacle and just, well, very Japanese (anally retentive?). Kaoyo, the wife, with white powered face, make up and an ornate kimono and headdress looked wonderful. It was the strangest theatre I have seen since Chinese Opera with acrobats bouncing around the stage. I was, however, relieved to be able to leave after Act 1.

The Fascinating World of Kabuki
Cute Kabuki animation with sound

I moved from traditional Japanese culture to the state of the art, cutting edge technology of the `Sony Building` up the road. A must for techno freaks, six of its eleven floors showcase the latest Sony gadgets. I didn`t know they had video cameras small enough to fit into your pocket. I`m a little behind on technology (I have yet to watch a DVD!) It all looked very 21st Century and equally irrelevant in my backpack. I also failed miserably to master the `Britney Spears Dance Machine Game` so I still have some street cred as far as I`m concerned.

The Tokyo International Forum, near Central Station is a remarkable building by American architect Raphael Vinoly. The boat shaped main hall is a 60m high atrium sheathed in 2600 sheets of `earthquake resistant` (we`ll see) glass with a ceiling ribbed like a ship`s hull. It is visually stunning.

Photo of Tokyo International Forum
Widespan Moving Photo of Tokyo International Forum

I popped into the Imperial Hotel. Tokyo`s first Western style hotel which opened in 1923 on the eve of the Great Earthquake and was designed by Frank Lloyd Wright (one of my favourite architects). It survived the earthquake and World War Two but not the 1960`s property boom. That`s Japan for you... destroy serious architecture and rebuild it to make the extra buck. I also failed to gatecrash the lunchtime bash hosted by the President of Guyana ("No, seriously. Tell him Bob Jack is here. He`ll remember the night in Thailand. And tell him I still have the photos").

I strolled across the pleasant Hibiya Park full of office staff eating lunch and salarymen on mobile phones. Get this. The Japanese even bow on the phone. When a salaryman is talking to his superior, you will see him bowing while on the phone. If he is getting an earful about not meeting production standards, his bows get lower and lower as the manager tears him apart. Only in Japan.

The National Diet Building in Akasaka district is a squat, three story affair, dominated by a central tower block, decorated with pillars and a pyramid shaped roof. It is supposedly based on the Senate Building in Washington DC, though Japan`s style of Government has more in common with the British parliamentary system. On the left stood the House of Representatives, the main body of government, while on the right was the House of Councillors (like the English House of Lords). Apparently, there are tours, but not today. Security guards crowded around every entrance. Outside the main entrance, a couple of Japanese protestors sat and banged drums. I have no idea what they were protesting about (maybe it was the fact that it was closed).

Down a slope from the Diet Building but on its own small hill, stood the Hei Jinga, a shrine dedicated to the God Oyamakui No Kami who is believed to protect against evil. It has been here since the 17th Century, though inevitably the current buildings date from 1967. Steps led up to a spacious but enclosed courtyard where numerous roosters stood in cages. Normally, they are let out to peck around the odd salaryman hiding from work. To the left of the main shrine was a statue of a black female monkey cuddling its baby, a symbol that has come to signify protection for pregnant women. Someone had inserted a small cuddly teddy bear into the monkey`s arms too.

The district of Roppongi lay south. In the evenings, it is a hive of nightlife, nightclubs and bars but was quiet during the day. Lots of westerners were walking around here. None of whom even acknowledged my presence. I find the westerners in Tokyo some of the unfriendliest people that I have ever come across. I`m not sure if its a big city mentality, that the majority are just tourists or a Japanese thing whereby you do not make facial contact with a stranger. Either way, 99% of them refuse to reply to a `Hi` or eye contact as you pass them. Maybe they feel that they are the only westerner in Japan and seeing another ruins their little dream of being isolated in a strange country. I have another more plausable idea. There are now enough westerners in Tokyo to make them seem nothing strange. It is me, coming from a provincial area where I see few westerners that I stop and think `Oh look, a westerner`, because I haven`t seen one in ages. They have, so its no big deal. That said, there are still so few Westerners in Japan that they do stick out a mile. However, when I was travelling in strange countries with few westerners, if you saw one, you would usually go up and have a quick chat if only to acknowledge that you were both there and it was nice to see a familiar face.

So I walked on to the Tokyo Tower. The 333m vermillion tower opened in 1958; a Japanese copy of the Eiffel Tower in Paris. It is now surrounded by tower blocks and I didn`t bother to pay to go up to the observation deck. I could get a free view of Tokyo elsewhere.

Photo of Tokyo Tower
Photo of Tokyo Skyline from Tower

Instead, I caught the train around the overland Yamanote Line to Shinjuku; the modern heart of Tokyo. The western half, Nishi Shinjuku with its soaring skyscrapers is a showcase for contempory architecture; the rauncier eastern side, Higashi Shinjuku is a non stop red light and shopping district and the inspiration for Ridley Scott`s movie `Bladerunner`. Shinjuku station is a messy combination of three terminals, subways stations and a bus station and a maze to find yourway around. Everything heading west of Tokyo uses Shinjuku. About 2 million people pass through it on a daily basis.

Panoramic Photo of Shinjuku
Photos of Shinjuku at night

I walked to the monumental Tokyo Metropolitan Government Building, a 400,000 sq metre complex. 13,000 city bureaucrats go to work here each day and the entire complex which includes twin 48 story towers (the Japanese architect was trying to emulate the Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris), feels like Batman`s Gotham City.

Panoramic view from the Tokyo Metropolitan Government Building

Both the towers have free observation rooms on their 45th floors. I caught the 240m a minute elavator up to the 202m observation deck for a fine view in every direction over Tokyo. Mt Fuji was hidden behind smog and clouds in the west. I would return to Shinjuku to explore the area properly at a later date. So ended another relaxing day off.

At my kindergarten class the following Saturday, I introduced the train game. I found some boxes at a supermarket (the carriage). The kids had to draw wheels on the side. Then I numbered them 1,2 etc and sat them in a line. I was (by a very narrow margin, it must be said) in the locomative at the front. I yelled a number and the kid in that carriage jumped out and jumped into the locomative and I jumped into his box. I soon got tired of squeezing into boxes and left them to it. Then I spaced the carriages around the room so they had further to run. They seemed to love this game and played it for 25 minutes. One of the mothers came in and took photos and gave us all a set the next week. I know know the Japanese for `How did that fat bastard get into that tiny box?` Unfortunately, just before the game, Yuka, a tiny 5 year girl, was dizzy and collapsed. Mr Bob had to carry her out in his arms to her mother. Another one bites the dust.

UK James was a happy bunny that night. He had listened to his beloved Crystal Palace Football club playing live on the internet late on the Sat night and had heard them thrash their biggest rivals, Brighton, 5 goals to 0. He was so happy, he went and bought a bottle of vodka and turned up at UK Matt`s room around 2am just as we were all going to bed. We ended up leaving at 5am so no change there. He was not so happy the following week, when I destroyed him at tennis and regained my crown. The King is back!.

Later, around Sunday lunchtime, I drove James and UK Linsay to Kashima to watch a Japanese soccer match. I had watched a World Cup game here in May. Today the Kashima Antlers were playing Consadole Sapporo. It was a crunch game for Sapporo, who, if they lost, would be relegated. The 17,500 crowd filled less than half of the stadium. We got the cheapest seats (£12.50) and sat with the Kashima home supporters all dressed in red. The Sapporo crowd barely made a dent in the opposite end, but then Sapporo is at the opposite end of the country on the island of Hokkaido. Our stand was absolutely packed. We could only find spare seats in the upper tier. Down behind the goal, strung out along the edge of the touchline were about 30 barechested Kashima supporters all waving enormous flags. They orchestrated the singing by the crowds which was reinforced by endless drumming coming from somewhere. The singing also included synchronised clapping and arm movements which looked very complicated for just a soccer chant. Daft looking cuddly moose suits with large antlers waddled around the touchline to entertain the children.

Photos of Kashima Antlers Supporters

The first half of the game was pretty dreadful. Sapporo scored just before half time to break up the tedium. During the interval, a Japanese Bon Jovi lookalike strolled onto the pitch to warble through his latest song, backed by two guitarists who looked a bit stupid in their gear, miming to the song in the middle of the pitch. The second half was much more exciting. Kashima equalised within 5 minutes, Sapporo retook the lead with a penalty and then Kashima`s best player who was part of the world cup squad sliced a great shot into the goal to equalise again. 2 goals each. It was a showdown. In Japanese soccer, if you win in normal time, you get 3 points. If it is level at 90 minutes, they play a `golden goal` 30 minute extra period. The winner gets 2 points. If they are both still equal after that, its 1 point a piece. So we went to extra time and Kashima finally scored a winner, much to the jubilation of the home crowd. The following week, Kashima went on to win the equivalent of the Japanese League Cup.

The Japanese do not celebrate Halloween, but many seemed to know that it existed. At Shimodate, my 4 year old girl, Shiho and her 10 year old buddy, Ren, turned up for their class in complete fancy dress costumes. Ren wore a black witches cloak and pointed hat and rode a broomstick with a hobby horse. Naturally, because its Japan, the head had a computer chip and made horse noises when you pressed its ear. Tiny Shiho had a lovely multicoloured cloak and wide brimmed yellow hat with a computerized swival stick.

Inevitably, some students make unintentional mistakes that turn out to be howlers. One guy cannot pronounce `peanut butter` and says `penis butter`. Another student says `crappuccino` coffee` instead of `cappuccino`. Finally, I asked a guy if he knew what a `soap opera` was. He suggested that they were songs that you sang in the bath, which was a great answer.

11 dogs, 11 cats, 4 birds, 2 frogs, 1 fox, 1 rabbit, 1 bird of prey, 4 UFOs (unidentified flattened objects)