10 - Return To Machida

(Wednesday 4th April, Nagoya-Machida)

Interestingly I woke up this morning having slept the worst since arriving in Japan, probably due to the fact that it had been very warm, added to that for a cheaper room we'd elected to all sleep three in a double bed. But alas, our son is no longer the small quiet creature of yesteryear when this used to be possible. The heat also got to him which lead him to moan and thrash around, lashing out in his sleep resulting in a punch in the nose or kick in the takoyaki becoming a real and present danger. My wife staying up to sort out the washing in a plastic bag with the light on didn't help, and in fact only exacerbated the situation. Imagine trying to sleep in the desert at high noon lying next to a pack of wild dogs tied to a cactus while someone maliciously crunches an empty crisp packet right next to your ear.

Morning couldn't come soon enough, and when it did it was too soon.

I had two onigiri, some rice, two cups of coffee and two orange juices, some mini sausages and other seaweed bits and bobs, and afterwards began to feel quite human again. On TV at the end of the hall was a program that seemed to be about big butts. The female Japanese presenter seemed to be saying, "Using these cutting edge methods and optical illusions people with big butts can become people with smaller butts." Each of the guests to me were clearly thinking, "Why are we here?" My wife disagreed. She interpreted their expressions to be that of polite interest. Not "What idiot TV program producer planned this nonsense?"

Striking architecture in Nagoya

 I heard chocolate was an aphrodisiac, but still ....

Even though we were due to check out today we left our cases in the hotel foyer so that we could wander around Nagoya for a while until we were due to catch the shinkansen up to Tokyo at 2:40 pm.

It was hot and sunny and the heat bounced off the asphalt, concrete, steel and glass to produce a shimmering haze though which we meandered like a mirage, gasping for coffee, coffee. 

My son and I holed up in a Doutours in the station to do some homework while my wife slipped away for a few precious solitary shopping hours in the labyrinthine symbiotic department store train station.

Shinkansen coffee travels at 200mph

We dismounted the bullet train in Shin Yokohama station and climbed the familiar stairs up and round and down to the JR station where it was just anther 20 minutes or so until our next destination, a little old place called Machida.

Full Circle - Back in Machida 

I walked past this hotel every day from 2000-2002

I can't believe we've come all the way back to Machida. Coming down the stairs at the JR exit looking out over the night view I almost felt faint as three lots of memories all superimposed on my mind: the first version I experienced in 2000 when I first arrived in Japan, got disorientated due to the two raised platforms and ended up blissfully lost; the second chapter of my life when I returned to Machida in 2006 and we made Tough Gig and Ripped; and this third 2018 version, with its similarities and differences - the commercial enterprises that survived, those that didn't, and those that adapted. But still the same glittering neon-lit canyon from JR to Odakyu, providing everything you need from donuts to guitar tuition; from steak to spatulas; from fish to cigarettes.

The Hub in Machida is still there, and has expanded to Sagami Ono

This could be why I keep returning

The massive Daiso 100 Yen Plaza in Machida has become an apartment block

We did find anther Daiso but it had been reduced from 6 floors to half a floor in the Lumine Building.

Relieves stress!?

Ninja climbing tools - just 250 yen!

The Neon Lights of Machida Main Drag

Order by iPad in Ootoya to reduce the stress of talking to other humans

Read Day 11.

9 - Forgetfulness, Nagoya & Beer

(Tuesday 3rd April 2018, Nagoya)

I believe this was the day of the ill-fated trip from Arashiyama ('Where the Cherry Blossom is so Beautiful, Even Business Sense Goes Out The Window!') to Nagoya.

I think I get it

We woke up after a decent night's slumber, got packed, left our key in the box as instructed, and made our way to the station, where we said our fond farewells to the sunny cherry blossom and boarded a train to Katsura, where we would change to some other line retracing our steps back to Kyoto, and the bullet train (seats booked on the 10:26) would fire us off to Nagoya. As soon as we got on the carriage, I took off my backpack that had all my important stuff on it including MacBook, hard drive, passport and wallet, and put it on the overhead luggage rack.

The steps to enlightenment are many

On reflection we decided that the only place the owners of the guest house had gone wrong was not having the room cleaned, aired and tidied by the time we arrived (6pm). If it had, everything would probably have been fine. All they need is a receptionist and a trustworthy cleaner and their business would sky rocket, because their building is in great nick and in a perfect location and they could greatly increase their reputation, prices and profits. 

Water to purify hands before entering the shrine grounds 

When we got off the train at Katsura, changed lines and boarded the second train I realised I felt quite light. Something was missing. A weight had been lifted from my shoulders, literally. Then it hit me. I'd left my backpack on the other train.

Another solar field whisks by

But because this wasn't the first time this had happened to me I wasn't particularly worried, despite now being an ID-less illegal, when I went up to the train office in Katsura to attempt to explain my predicament. It was doubly fortunate that the line between Arashiyama and Katsura was only a few stations long and the trains just go back and forth all day. They'd found the bag, he said, just hop on the next train and pick it up. Which I did. At the train office there I said, "I'm the foreigner who forgot his bag on the train," and the guy immediately switched on, asked me to sign something (probably an autograph book) and gave me my bag back.

The Golden Clock in Nagoya. Not to be confused with the Silver Clock

The only question now was would we get to Kyoto in time for our Bullet train? Yes, is the answer, with seconds to spare, but we made it. Thirty minutes later we were in sunny Nagoya.

A 3D Kabuto Mushi (horned helmet beetle) gift from a friend

It's amazing how much better for the soul it is to meet old friends in person than on social media. There's no substitute. Social media is like Post-It Notes for the soul. Meeting in person is the full Dolby 5.1 surround sound 4K 360 degree HD experience. Had a great afternoon and evening catching up with old friends, and the intervening years just stripped away as if they'd never happened. 

A glass of heady stout in Kirin City, Nagoya

We checked into our hotel which looked nice and clean and welcoming, and carried our bags up to our room and collapsed on the bed.

The unmistakable but very cylindrical Twin Towers of Nagoya Station

The Upside Down Whirlpool

In the evening we wandered the warm city streets seeking nourishment, and found it in the form of fried meat fondue.

Fried meat in cheese fondue! Genius! 

A foyer to rival all foyers

Read Day 10.

8 - Return to the Golden Temple

(Monday 2nd April, Kyoto)

Another beautiful cherry blossom-filled day. 

In much the same way Awajishima is blessed with so much sunlight it can't use it all, Arashiyama is blessed with an abundance of sakura, so much so that you sadly reach a kind of plateau of happiness after about 36 hours. This is how it must have played out. A hundred years ago a guy decided to himself to plant a row of cherry trees along the river. "This is gonna look great, trust me," he told the other town planners who listened with polite but unconvinced expressions. "And it'll be great for the local economy too. People will come from miles around just to see this effusion of pink against the blue/green backdrop of the river."  They all sat doubtfully around the table for a moment, unsure. "For just one weekend a year?" They pause in hesitation. Then anther guy chimes in, "Yeah, but that weekend we'll all be able to knock off at six!" Thus the deal is sealed.

We retraced our steps across the bridge to an old traditional train station only to find that most of the tickets for the day had already been sold; we'd need to wait hours before being able to ride it.  

The unmistakable but very literal glass ceiling of Kyoto Station

Instead we moved on to Plan B: Kinkakuji (The Golden Temple). We got a train to Kyoto and found this nice kaiten zushi (conveyor belt sushi) restaurant in the catacombs, where you order in English by iPad, once again negating the need for uncomfortable human interaction.

Order via Ipad to avoid pesky human contact 

This left me in a strange predicament. I knew the name of my favourite sushi but only in spoken Japanese, not written. So I had no choice but to blurt out, "Sumimasen, shime saba arimusa ka?" to the chef for which I was rewarded for my efforts, like a seal, with some delicious vinegared mackerel.

Maguro, or raw tuna. The price of the dish is indicated by the colour of the plate

Job done!

An eye-popping variety of popcorn flavours 

From Kyoto station we took a bus to Kinkaku Ji (The Golden Temple - not to be confused with Ginkaku Ji, the Silver Temple) which I'd seen a few times before. We thought it would be an important part of our son's Japanese heritage and cultural education to show him it this holiday.

Kinkakuji - The Golden Temple

There were a lot of other tourists but we did our best to enjoy the garden for the beautiful spot it was meant to be. I imagined coming across the place by accident hundreds of years ago and the sense of awe that must have instilled. (I'd been stumbling through the undergrowth for days - my face, arms and legs gnawed to the bone by insects - when suddenly I fell into a clearing and rubbed my eyes. Hey, is that a golden temple?)

Shop til you drop : A mall stretches off to infinity

We took the bus back to Kyoto station and after searching for miles for a place to eat finally found an almost deserted Okonomiya san. I couldn't help wondering why it was so empty, but by then we were so exhausted and our feet so tired we threw caution to the wind, sat ourselves down and ordered a delicious meal.

Okonomiyaki is a kind of fried seafood omelet with fish flakes, sauce and mayonnaise

When we got back to Arashiyama we headed straight for the onsen, where I, feeling like the old hand professional and wanting to show off to my wife said, "Leave this to me, dear," and deftly purchased the tickets from the machine for 'weekday adult' times two plus a 'weekday child', only to be told that we had to use the more expensive weekend tickets. "Eh?" I said, "Isn't this a weekday?" but the guy insisted (without eye contact) that today we were to use the more expensive button. We looked back at the machine and sure enough there was a large hand-drawn arrow pointing at the 'Weekend ticket' button. Whether this was good or bad business sense only time will tell, but nonetheless, a good hot bath was had by all.

Read Day 9.

7 - Cherry Blossom & Onsen

(Sunday 1st April, Arashiyama)

Woke up early with no sign of rash or bug bites so it's looking like my concerns about the bedding was thankfully unfounded. Beginning to appreciate the guest house for its location as it opens up right onto one of the main streets and is a can of Asahi's throw from the main cherry blossom part of the river.

Today was the day my wife was to meet her friends so I was on son duty, and decided to take him to the onsen (hot spring) which wasn't due to open until midday, so we spent the day wandering around and playing his Beyblade arena in a small park. 

We had a healthy and delicious breakfast in Musubi again - including two huge onigiri (rice balls), which kept us full for most of the day.

The hot spring was great, and since this was our son's second visit to one he was now an old hand at it. There were four baths and they were all quite quiet as most people I assumed were out enjoying the cherry blossom and would come in for a bath later. Inside was the regular bath plus a kind of white milky one. There were sakura petals floating on both, which bathers had brought inside with them from the two baths outside - again a normal one with natural stone decoration, and the obligatory freezing cold bath that I never have the guts to go into after the 60 degree heat of the others.

  

We had a nice coffee and chat with two of my wife's friends in the cafe near Arashiyama station from about 3pm until 5:30pm and then after saying goodbye set off across the river to find a place to chow down, only to discover that most restaurants seemed to have their minds set on closing at 6pm. Surely it would make more business sense to stay open until 8pm at least if you're a restaurant in a tourist district at high season? I just couldn't fathom the logic, and after walking half a mile on nothing but the two large onigiri we'd had for breakfast, I was fathoming it less and less. 

Bladerunneresque steam erupts periodically from this chestnut stall

Finally we came back to our side of the river and found a place that was still serving food outside. We were next in line and the guy said, "Just a moment, please," while hustling around bringing food to customers. I had my eye on a big steaming bowl of Nishin Soba, when the guy came back and without looking us in the eye, announced, "Sorry, we're closed!" I stared on in hungry disbelief, my mouth hanging open. Closed? But you just said wait a moment? How can wait a moment lead to closed? Those are not two naturally progressive steps in any known logical sequence ever. I knew I should have been angry, but the truth was, I wasn't. I was too content to be angry. I wasn't even disappointed. I wasn't exactly overjoyed about it either - just pleasantly dumbfounded. Closed? It's 6:45 on a Sunday night and the place is heaving with tourists. Do you not have a kitchen? Do you not have tables? Do you not have food? Do you not have hungry tired customers who have nowhere else to go? Staying open an extra hour would be a killer move over the competition, dude, stay open! 

People concerned they might not be using the toilet the right way can rest assured instructions are provided in most locales.

Or perhaps it was because the sakura was earlier than expected and they just hadn't prepared for the rush. Maybe that was why. Not enough staff or food. Who knows.

Anyway, to cut a short story long we ended up eating dinner outside Mini Stop, the convenience store near the station. I had fried chicken on a stick, a can of beer, and something called an American Dog which is the only thing that hits the spot when you get the cravings for a hot dog wrapped in a donut. 

This is now the half way mark of our trip.

Read Day 8.

(Text & Photos © Chris Young 2018)

6 - Sumoto Castle & Guest House Shock

(Saturday 31st March, Kyoto)

After enjoying my first full night's sleep since arriving in Japan I left the condo for my daily morning coffee ritual, looked up at Sumoto Castle on the nearby hill and thought, "Well, we're leaving in a few hours - if I'm going to see that castle up close it's now or never," so off I went.

Isn't it funny how past experiences shape our perception of the present and future? As I made my way between buildings towards the foot of the hill, I knew this would be exactly the route I would take if I felt an earthquake, or happened to look out to sea and see a huge, towering tsunami roll its way towards the shore. Up. My family were still in the first floor apartment. They could go up too. Just climb the stairs to the the roof and sit out the maelstrom. Like the chaos from which Japan was mythically formed.

We didn't really plan to come when the cherry blossom was due to bloom. Summer too hot, winter too cold; actually I'd wanted to come in autumn as after a few years in Japan I'd suddenly developed hay fever - an allergy to the ubiquitous Japanese Sugi tree, often used as the building materials for houses. But in autumn I usually have much work to catch up on, so spring just seemed the best option and after pumping my system full of anti-histamines I would hope for the best. Every day I've been taking a little yellow pill and it's been working pretty well thus far. 

So the cherry blossom being in full bloom is kind of a bonus.

But if you stop to think about the intransigence of beauty it can bring a tear to your eye. So I try not to dwell on it too much.

On the approach to Sumoto Castle

Sumoto Castle

The town of Sumoto from the castle, facing north

The journey back down the mountain 

About an hour later, we caught the bus from Sumoto to Maiko, and the train to Kyoto, where we met up with some more friends in the catacomb-like department stores underground, where wifi drips sparingly from the ceiling like drops to a thirst-quenched man.

Kyoto Tower

After our meal we got a train to Arashiyama, via Katsura. When we arrived it was getting dark and the cherry blossom was blooming in earnest. There we checked the map and hunted down our Arashiyama guest house, which apparently might 'not be that great' according to some online reviews that my wife only found after booking.

It turned out that 'not that great' was the understatement of the day.

The moon pokes through the blossom

I should have taken a pic of the room when we opened the door, but I guess I was just quite taken aback by the situation. There was no staff there to greet us as we let ourselves in via the pre-emailed door code. Basically, if I remember rightly, there were a couple of futons and sleeping bags strewn across the floor, there was a pot noodle on the counter, the windows were closed and the air was stuffy with the unmistakable scent of someone else. The doors didn't lock and who knew how long ago the mattresses and room had been aired. The expression 'complete dive' sprung to mind. I instantly regretted leaving the booking of the accommodation to my wife, and headed out to find alternative digs. First hotel - full. Second hotel - full. Business hotel - full. At least I'd re-learnt the Japanese for the word 'full' (manshitsu) The fourth one I went to the guy outside guiding the cars didn't even bother to check a book. Translating what he said into cockney : "Yer 'avin a larf incha? Cherry blossom in full bloom (mankai) and this being a Saturday night? 'Course we're bloody full you twit! Nah clear off, 'fore I kick yer dan the bleedin' apples!"

When I returned to the (in my mind) insect-infested sweat-pit, my wife had done her bit getting the woman (a non-Japanese (but what difference should that make? )) in charge to clean up the room and give us a key, and I had to admit that after a bit of a tidy up the room wasn't that bad after all. We opened the windows and went out to find a bite to eat while the place aired. After the high of the morning I'd been emotionally clotheslined, but I still intended to get exhausted and good and drunk before lying down on those suspect bedclothes. At least we had a roof over our head. Our son, bless him, must have sensed the change in our moods, as he had become quite subdued himself in his behaviour.

Musubi Cafe, Arashiyama : Great food and decent business hours 

We had a very nice meal in the Musubi Cafe, wandered around and let the alcohol and cherry blossom lift our spirits.

When we returned the room seemed fresh, the bedclothes changed, and all was good with the world.

Read Day 7.

All Photos & Text © Chris Young 2018