Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Nippon II - Kyoto & Osaka

Saying goodbye to Tokyo, Mike and I promptly fell asleep for the 3-or-so-hour train ride to Kyoto. I tried in vain to stay awake to watch the exotic countryside go by, but I was just too beat from the pre-dawn bird attack to do so. Also, the fact that the magnetic train was zooming at over 300km/hr made any decent sight out of the window too fleeting to be all that memorable anyway. One thing is for sure – if you’re 6-foot tall and weigh 200 pounds, you’re not going to have the most comfortable ride on public transit in Japan. (This reality sadly goes for Korea as well and, I fear, likely most of Asia).

Upon arriving in Kyoto, our first order of business was to locate some form of accommodation for that evening seeing as how our search on Couchsurfing had proven fruitless. Apparently Kyoto is one of those unsung tourist havens like Interlaken in Switzerland or (so I’m told) Koh Phangan in Thailand. As soon as you start doing even the slightest bit of research for a trip to the country or talk to others who have done it, Kyoto is one of those places that keeps popping up. You end up hearing that you just have to go there or you’ll regret it for the rest of your life and eventually end up hanging yourself in your garage because of the missed opportunity (or whatever the threat of the day is). Apparently the city is the home of some of the last authentic working Geishas in the country, served as the nation’s capital for a while, and is considered the birthplace of Japanese culture as it exists in its modern lexical incantation. As a result of this awesomeness and the fact that we were there for peak tourist season, it is understandable that we could not find any CS hosts. Instead, we went to the tourist bureau at the train station and asked what our options were for cheap accommodations.

With a bit a patience and a tonne of luck, we were able to snag a ballin’ hotel conveniently located in the Gion area of the city for around 8000 yen a night for the room (or around 45 Canadian bucks each). The accommodations were authentically Japanese, complete with sleeping mats instead of beds, sliding reed doors, courtesy yukatas, and those hilarious novelty toilets you’ve heard so much about. We really could not have asked for a better deal and we made good use of the water heater in the room for both our complimentary green tea and the copious amounts of sake we took back to our room. To ensure some true cultural fusion was attained, we also felt obliged to consume a bottle of good Scotch (surprisingly cheap!) and a few cigars over the course of our 3 nights there. Ah yes, vacation indeed.


Despite all the hype and the fact that the city actually is really awesome, I felt a little nonplussed by Kyoto overall. It is certainly a gorgeous place and is both culturally and aesthetically humbling. As my 2 month hitchhike through Europe taught me, however, too much of an amazing thing can sometimes leave you with a lack of appreciation for it. In retrospect the city is an absolute jaw-dropper complete with shrines, temples, and graveyards I thought only existed in idealised representations of Japan in Western cinema and art. However, a few days’ worth of touristic stumbling in the most oppressive humidity I have yet encountered in my life left me very sweaty and a little blazé about the whole thing. At least we had a great hotel at which we could rest when the heat got too much for us. (And yes, I can hear my tropical friends out there laughing at me as you read this; I’m well aware that I ain’t seen nothing yet if I call this hot).

One awesome experience Kyoto warranted was a unique and bewildering spectacle that can only be described as an elaborately ritualistic log-burning ceremony that ended in a parade. (Trust me, this doesn’t get any clearer with further explanation). One evening Mike and I accidentally stumbled upon a large gathering of traditionally-clad men of various ages. They were all milling around in semi-organised fashion near the centre of a large shrine/stage. Preparations were slow and plentiful, and before things really started to go down in earnest we had no idea what kind of spectacle we were about to witness (our bets were on some form of martial arts display). Eventually the event began when a very large bundle of reeds about 3 feet in diameter and about 12 feet long was lit at one end like a giant stogie. This burning reed-log was held on the collective shoulders of about 5 dudes chanting loudly in unison as they made their way out of the shrine and onto the streets of Kyoto. Behind this group were the rest of the 100-odd uniformed men – all smiling and chanting along with the log-bearers. Following them was a gaggle of onlookers and tourists who had gathered to join in the excitement. Bringing up the rear was a team of about 5 firemen complete with Ghostbusters-esque uniforms and water-throwing backpacks. They were charged with dousing any chunks of flaming material that happened to fall off the log and land on the street (as plenty did). Mike and I peeled off the main procession as it entered the busier part of the city feeling awed and respectful that such a strong cultural event still takes place in the modern day. Truly, save for Egon and Venkman’s presence, this whole thing could just as easily have been going down in 1300 AD and not one bit of it would have looked any different. Safe to say this whole ceremony was as intriguing as it was confusing. I will always hold the memory of the evening dear, even though I have resigned myself to never finding out the true significance – or even name – of the whole affair. Any ideas?

Comprehensively I would liken the laid-back cultural appeal and even much of the foliage in Kyoto to that of the West Coast of Canada (sans the marijuana, of course). This similarity was very surprising to me and although the city was spectacular in its own right, I think I was craving a little bit more of the robot-fuelled high-tech Japan that Tokyo had shown me. Indeed, I was itching to experience Osaka’s promise of a return to such by the end of my third day in Kyoto.

Early in the morning on the last day, Mike and I got our asses out of bed and booked a hotel for our one and only night in Osaka from the lobby of the Kyoto hotel. The two cities are quite proximate to each other so it was only around a half-hour’s train ride to get into the bustling centre of the new city. Once there, we were astounded once again by the bright lights and the flashy, high-paced atmosphere of large urban Japan.

Checking into our affordable and otherwise non-descript hotel in Northern Osaka, Mike and I wandered around the district a bit. We absent-mindedly took in the area whilst checking out the flashy local arcades and other various oddities. For lunch we dined on some excellent takoyaki, or delicious little octopus-filled batter balls that are apparently a specialty dish in Osaka. The honour and pride of Japanese culture again shining through, the men making these delectable little morsels were bona-fide professionals who have clearly dedicated their lives to ensuring the looks on their customers’ faces were as blissful as Mike’s and mine were as we enjoyed our heavenly meal.

In the hours that followed, we began to steel ourselves for what was to be the main purpose of our trip to Osaka: fugu. After some more sightseeing and aimless wandering, we took the metro down to the main boardwalk area of the city on a recommendation from countless guidebooks and our hotel concierge. We were looking for a famous fugu restaurant by the name of Zuboraya, purportedly marked by the giant pufferfish model hanging from its exterior. They weren’t lying.


As we went inside Mike and I each ordered the 3-course fugu set along with some delicious Japanese beer (the highly-exported Asahi which beats the pants off of any Korean brew and indeed most North American ones). The food finally came after much anticipation and excitement. After all, this meal could very well have been our last (à la that Simpsons episode).

The sashimi was good, but it wasn’t the best fish I’ve ever eaten. If it wasn’t for the vague (possibly placebo-induced) feeling of numbness around the edges of my lips and the knowledge that I could have died if the chef behind the counter was having an off day, I would say it really wasn’t worth all the hubbub. The meal was really good, though, and I’m definitely glad I did it since that’s one more thing I can cross off the ‘ol life list.

Comprehensively, if you’re looking for good food the entire nation is truly a gastronomic paradise. If you can get over some of the stranger snack foods sold in deps like spaghetti sandwiches with an indiscernible white sauce on them, most everything edible sold in Japan is 100% terrific. While reading menus was a bit of a challenge, practically every restaurant we entered on a random whim proved absolutely exquisite. If ever in doubt, we could always hop into a ramen joint that served noodles I will be dreaming about for years to come (and no, this dish is nowhere even close to the store-bought Styrofoam cups of crap you crétins are currently thinking about). Or, if we were feeling extra hungry, there were plenty of kaiten-zushi places around that were cheap, easy, delicious, and about 400 times better on every possible scale than their kitschy counterparts in the West. If worst came to worst, though, there was always a vending machine not far off. (Lonely Planet informs me that the country boasts a shocking 15,000,000 plus of them). If I ever felt home sick for a bit of my home culture, I would only have to look at one of these machines to see Tommy Lee Jones’ bright and chipper face leering back at me. Hilariously, he is considered to be the “Boss” of vending machine coffee in Japan, or at least that’s what I gathered from his ubiquitous image. (yeah, I’m still not sure of what the deal is there).

As for price, everyone always says that Japan is an extremely expensive country to visit. The truth, however, is that it is no pricier than traveling through much of Western Europe or even Canada. Coming from Korea and being paid in the inferior Won, some of the prices I encountered were a little shocking at first. If you sniff around a little, though, you’ll find that you can secure an awesome hotel room for as little as $40 a night per person as we did in Kyoto, or stuff yourself stupid on world-class sushi and ramen for as little as $8 a go. Comprehensively, it is an entirely reasonably-priced destination for the Western pocketbook to handle and, in my opinion, is definitely worth it.

So what are my thoughts on the country post-trip? I’m still gonna go with fascinated awe. Delicious, respectful, extremely impressed fascinated awe. There are certainly some aspects of the Japanese lifestyle that I will never understand, but I’m entirely okay with that. Indeed, I’m sure nobody who’s not Japanese would ever understand even half of the things they do or the ways in which they do them. It seems, though, that this is precisely Japan’s appeal. Somehow the country offers the entire gamut of unique awesomeness to the interested traveller. From the blaring, ostentatious fervour of Shibuya Crossing to the serenity and natural beauty of Kyoto’s back alleys, this country has it all. I don’t know if I’ll ever get myself back here, but my single week in Japan will definitely stay with me for a lifetime. Arigato gozaimasu, Nippon.

Monday, September 14, 2009

Nippon I - Tokyo

First off, my extreme apologies for having taken so long to update this thing. Summer vacation and the monotony of a real job are taking their toll on both my creative juices and my energy/care to write anything down. I suppose the most logical place to jump back in, then, would be to explain exactly what I was doing over my week-long reprieve from whining 5-year-olds.

For some time now I have been longing to explore the mystery and extreme cultural uniqueness that is Japan. Why do they love robots so much? Is honour really that important to them? Just what is the deal with that super crazy porn they produce in droves? Fascinated awe is the best way I can phrase my outlook on the culture pre-trip, and I was extremely curious to see how much my zany expectations matched up to the real deal. Seeing as how it is the most proximate (non-life-threatening) nation to the one in which I currently reside, it was also a logical place to spend my vacation.

Mike and I booked our flights way back in April. We planned to fly into Tokyo and out of Osaka and, after a small logistical battle with our employer because of the recent porky pandemic, were airborne for our week’s adventure on July 23rd.

The first unexpected part of Japan was its greenery. This was not something I had anticipated, but looking out of the plane’s window on our final descent into Narita, I was taken aback by just how lush and vividly green the countryside was. Not only that, but the fact that there even was a non-skyscraper-ridden countryside was the first indication that at least some of my preconceptions would be shattered.

Upon landing in Tokyo, I was a little disappointed to see that the impending quarantine I had been warned would be imposed on me because of swine flu fear was not a big deal at all. While I had been expecting dudes in Ghostbuster-style biohazard suits spraying me down with some sort of chemical, the screening process was nothing more than a man with a sanitary facemask behind a desk passing out awareness flyers to everyone who walked passed him. Unlike Korea, it seems, the Japanese are aware of the hyper-inflated nature of the panic.

After clearing customs, we were soon on a train bound for central Tokyo and all of the bizarre insanity it would entail. Our first stop was the busiest train station in the world, Shinjuku station, where we were to meet up with our Couchsurfing host for the next few nights, Koichi. Koichi was a slight and devilishly cheeky young businessman who had been born and raised in central Tokyo. Simultaneously shy and extremely social, this man is perhaps one of the Queeniest gay men I have ever met and served as an excellent cultural guide for the area. His quirky personality was great and we definitely lucked out to have found someone willing to accommodate 2 big white dudes in a tiny Tokyo apartment for a few nights. Not only that, but the Shinjuku area is one of the most happening in all of Tokyo so our locale could not have been better, either. Suffice to say, our 4 nights spent in the largest city in the world were lively and ridiculous, with us coming back in from extended drinking binges long after the sun had risen.

View from Koichi's apartment - 9th floor, Shinjuku

Tokyo wasn’t all about the nightlife, though. Indeed, the many offerings of the city’s daily bustle were absolutely incredible. Among them, we went to a museum of “emerging technology and innovation" that housed ASIMO and all manner of other robots (the descriptions for which were often too technical for my puny non-Japanese brain to comprehend). In addition to this techie stuff and the tireless search for Godzilla-like monsters on the skyline, Mike and I also did some more casual exploration. 4 days of hard tourism didn’t allow us to even scratch the surface of the city, but we still managed to see some pretty cool stuff like the central imperial palace. We continued to wander around numerous shrines, temples, and parks in the city – each more beautiful and serene than the last. One of the aspects of Tokyo I found most amazing was that you could immerse yourself deep into the dense greenery of a park and hear nothing but insects and the stillness of nature. Here it was surprisingly easy to entirely forget that you were standing smack dab in the middle of the world’s largest city.

A small building on the grounds of the Imperial Palace

Contrary to this peacefulness, there was also the expected insanity of throbbing downtown Tokyo. In addition to the wacky metro system (don't get me started on how difficult this thing was to navigate), certain parts of the city were so jam-packed with humanity they make downtown Montréal look like the 'burbs. Shibuya crossing is reputedly one of the most heavily trafficked pedestrian intersections in the world; standing in the middle of it truly makes you marvel at just how insect-like we mostly-clothed apes can be. Take a gander at the insanity below and keep in mind that a crossing just as busy as this happens at every light – about once every 2 minutes.


You can see an aerial view of the intersection at this Wikipedia page and I encourage you to read the entry on scramble crossings as well if you can’t figure out what’s happening here or if you are into urban geography like me.

While bumming around, we also stumbled upon the world headquarters store of Sony International, an electronics paradise which left us weak in the knee at all the mouth-watering gadgets. For the sake of saying I did so and because they are of incredible quality, I bought a pair of over-the-head padded headphones for 4000 yen (about $40). They’re ballin’ but they still don’t hold a candle to the noise-cancelling $550 earbuds also on sale there.

For our last night in Tokyo, Koichi unfortunately had to head off to Kyoto for business so we were on our own for accommodation. After a bit of head-scratching, we decided it would appease both our wallets and our sense of adventure if we just slummed it and hunkered down in a park somewhere. Mike’s friend had supposedly done this some years back with no problems, so that was a good enough green light for us. Since we both had sleeping bags and it was a nice evening out we figured we’d give it a shot. After casually downing a few (street-legal) beers in a very pleasant park we found, we finally scoped out a sleeping spot in a secluded patch of trees near a fence around nightfall and were asleep by midnight.

Just before dawn a cacophony of unimaginable abruptness punctuated my slumber with alarming force. There was a squaking of crows so intense and immediate that I was sure they were fleeing the rampaging attack of some Mothra-type creature. Mike and I, alarmed at the intensity of the noise, quickly assembled our gear and stumbled our way out of the park. On the way out, I stopped to look at a map of the area and perfunctorily located the place we had slept. It turns out the fence we were sleeping next to was actually the entrance to a large bird sanctuary; the patch of grass which we had so delicately chosen to rest our heads was about 10 metres away from a whole bunch of chipper, vocal, dawn-loving creatures. Being bleary-eyed and groggy at the time, we did not register the full hilarity of what had happened to us until a few hours later.

Later that morning Mike and I made our way to Tokyo’s central station and booked our tickets for the Japan Rail (JR) high-speed train to Kyoto. We left that afternoon and were off for the second half of our already-eventful trip that will not soon be forgotten.

***

Seeing as how this entry is running on a little long and that I am already quite late in updating, I will stop here and leave the second half of my Japan vacation for my next post. Sorry again for how long it took me to get back to this but I promise you will at least have the complete story of my trip within a few weeks.

On an unrelated note, it has been a full 6 months since I first landed in Korea. (!) It is absolutely insane how fast the time has gone. For better or worse, this ride is halfway over.