8-bitDesign

Well, it only took me a month or so, but now I’ve gotten my photos all sorted out, and you can see them here: Japan Photos!

So, since everyone’s been asking, here’s the photo of the capsule hotel, specifically Reynolds demonstrating how tall these things are. So, you have approximately 10 of these capsules in a row, with two rows stacked on each wall and sumbarine-style ladders between them.

All in all, not horrible digs. You do have a lounge upstairs to relax, watch TV, or drink a beer in (there is a limited bar/diner as well). A spiffy Japanese-style public bath and a dorm-style shared bathroom are available for you to clean up in. You don’t spend all your time in the coffin as some people think and it’s just a crash-pad, not a proper hotel, so you book your pod nightly and gotta take all your just with you on the way out at 9AM prompt.

So yeah, enjoy the photos, and feel free to leave all sorts of scandalous comments.

Well, we’re back from Japan, the jetlag is fading, and the separation anxiety is setting in. Welcome home.

I still catch myself missing snippets of the country here and there, when driving past clubs and bars, or even something as daft as noticing the blank posterless sections of the wall in our apartment. The space is jarring, and quite possible the first thing you notice upon returning if not the last thing you forget.

Anyways, while it’s still in my mind, let me jot down a few of our experiences in Nagano.

The city itself is no more than a train station, two malls, and a main drag. Past that, the city peters out into suburbs which stretch off in to farms, and then out to the villiages, like Toyota, where we stayed. 

Reynolds’ place is about 30 minutes from Nagano proper, outside of Nakano, a small town in the region. Specifically, he lives in Toyota-mura, which consists of apple farms, and about a dozen houses. This, of course, was in stark contrast to Tokyo and Kyoto, and only after the first few cautious glances and the odd stare from passers-by, did we realise that four Americans (*) walking down the street in Toyota probably isn’t a common occurance. 

Despite the initial… confusion, just about everyone we ran into in Toyota was very welcoming. On our first full day there, we hiked up into the nearby hills, looking for fresh snow, left over from the weekend, and ended up stopping to chat with the local traffic guard, one of the nearby farmers, and the odd student of our dear Reynolds. It never ceases to surprise me to see how much of our communication with each other people goes unsaid. We were able to bolster our meagre Japanese skills with pantomiming, bad translation, snippets of English, facial expressions, and laughter at times.

Speaking of the hills, quite possibly, the most beautiful moment in our trip through Japan had to be that first night in Nagano. After days of non-stop hiking through Tokyo and Kyoto, Reynolds suggested we end our first night in Nagano at one of their famous hot springs. So, at 9, we all pile in the car, shivering and freezing (only 2° centigrade!) and drive up to the nearby town, Iiyama. We drove until we reached the hot spring, sitting on a mountain overlooking Nagano.

So, we hop through the pre-onsen ritual (strip down for a quick, public shower) and stepped outside. Into the snow and the cold with only a 36 square inch towel to protect all dangly bits from sight and the elements.

And then we stepped into the spring: It was 42º centigrade in the cold end! So, here we are, sitting naked, in the hottest natural jacuzzi I’ve ever seen, outside, at night, overlooking the entirety of Nagano, while pinpricks of snow are melting against my face. Looking up, all you could see was the velvet black night, behind the roiling steam from the onsen, and the falling snow.

I can think of few moments in my life that have been that peaceful. The thought of an American-raised, Scottish son stewing in a Japanese hot spring on the other side of the world just seemed so daft right then and there. This world seems so full of surprises at times.

I’ll start by saying that I don’t think we spent nearly enough time in Kyoto.

Outside of that, I honestly don’t have too much to say about it, with my travel guide out of reach, as it is. We basically arrived from the Shinkansen late on Sunday, and promptly purchased a wide selection of beers, and spent the night drunkenly watching Japanese game shows.

Monday had us doing our variant of Pub-crawling, “Temple Crawling”. We hit four temples before dinner, and honestly, I can’t add anything that you wouldn’t read in a Lonely Planet or Eyewitness guide book. That, and I can’t spell any of the names off-hand.

I definitely feel that each of those temples requires more time to experience than the hour we spent in each, but as a way to flesh out our understanding of the city, they’re marvelous.

Kyoto is a city that hasn’t just made peace with it’s past, but lives happily alongside it. 500 year old shrines co-exist with modern suburbs and high-rises. It’s also far more open and welcoming than Tokyo, which can be an intimidating sight at first. The place is also lousy with gaijin; we were tripping over tourists on the regular. Then again, that could be due to us arriving just in time to see the cherry blossoms blooming.

Overall, if you want to draw an SAT-test worthy parallel, Kyoto is like England’s Bath, a smaller, quieter, city with a rich history. Absolutely gorgeous, and full of small little suprises off of side-roads, and behind temples.

Now, my favourite part has to be the walk we took before dinner, through the city park, which can best be described as Japan’s answer to Montemarte, and then through the main street towards city hall. The interesting there here, is that the most people in Japan tend be quiet in public, keeping cellphone conversations to a minimum.

Here, in Kyoto, on a Monday night, we found quite the opposite. Around us were laughing, joking crowds of people, fresh from work and the bar, and having a good time. Hell, a few passing groups even teased us a bit about our Japanese pronunciation while we were trying to find our way around. From what I’ve seen, Japan is a country where the people all agree that there’s a place and a time for everything.

We capped the night off to a trip to some reggae bar that Reynolds’ bartender recommended, and after a drunken stumble, more Japanese game shows. Not too shabby for our day in Kyoto!

Airplanes always throw me off kilter. Something about being trapped in a cramped metal cylinder for 9 hours tends to kill my appetite and keep me on the verge of throwing up for the rest of the day.

Anyways, we’re currently somewhere over the pacific, two hours from home, and I’m lucky to be experiencing my second Sunday. You see, we boarded our plane at 3:45PM Tokyo time, and as of this writing it’s now it’s 7:00AM LA time. Sunday was so good, I get to do it all over again! (Yay!).

Leaving Japan is a bittersweet experience. I really did fall in love with the country, and it cities, each with their own personality. Beyond that, we certainly met new friends among Matt’s crew of teachers, and the many locals we met along the way, many of whom we may never see again.

All in all, it’ll be good to be back home, though. I doubt I’m going to love rolling back into work with 16 hours of jetlag, or having to face taxes, bills, and the thousand other little irritations of modern life, but at least I’ll be doing it all in a language I understand.

Being in Japan has been great for learning the language, and in the last week, I’ve forgotten more Japanese than I learned in two years of college. However, being in a country where you have, at best, a functional grasp of the language and are effectively illiterate is a bit like being under water. You always seem to be floating through the experience, clumsily interacting with the world around you, and holding your breath for the next oasis of English.

But I will miss it.

Reynolds is talking about staying an extra year, and if that happens, I think me and Quinn will start drafting our plans for next year’s trip to the land of the rising sun.

We’re on the move again. Travel itinerary? 1 hour bullet-train from Kyoto to Nagoya, then 4 hours on an elevated train through the countryside to Nagano, the prefecture’s capitol, and from there, a (hopefully) quick drive out to Nakano, Reynolds’ home here.

I’m on the train right now from Nagoya to Nagano, the heart of Nagano Prefecture (something between a state and a county).

We’re currently winding our way through mountains and cities, and the beauty of the Japanese countryside is absolutely breathtaking. To think that there are farms, forests, and mountain communities outside of the neon glow of Tokyo is surprising, but then again, that’s why we’re here.

The further we get from the cities, the more we’re seeing of the real Japan. The tourist density in Kyoto was a bit depressing, and thus far we’ve been relatively coddled by some two of Japan’s more international cities. Here we’re in the heart of the land, and well away from the typical tourist stops.

Let’s see how this goes.

Day three found us in Harajuku, a small subway stop in Shibuya. The place is notable for a few things, first, the bridge:

I’m afraid I didn’t catch the name, or if I did, it didn’t feel like sticking around, but at any rate, this bridge outside the Meiji shrine is the place for cosplay, urban fashion, or whatever odd costume someone felt like throwing on that day. Harajuku is a great place for people watching, as anyone who wants to be seen can be found parading up and down the bridge outside the station, with a full audience of tourists and passers-by.

Secondly, we managed to stumble upon the shrine to emperor Meiji completely by accident. The shrine is palatial, and found at the end of a half-mile walk through the forest. It’s absolutely bizarre to find something like this out in the middle of Tokyo, where tight spaces, blaring neon, and hum of the city are omnipresent. 

Post-shrine, we had coffee in the busiest Starbucks in the world. That’s Japan for you: from shrine to Starbucks in 15 minutes. This was our last stop in Shibuya, before boarding our smoke-filled Shinkansen to Kyoto.

The situation on the ground meant that Cooper would stay in Tokyo for the next day or two while we journeyed on to Kyoto. So, that night, me, Quinn, and Reynolds left and finally got our first night’s rest on a real bed.

We started the first full day in Tokyo with a trip out to Shibuya to see Akihabara, the closest thing to an electronics district.

Hell yeah. I’ll post the photos later, but to sum things up: if it runs on batteries or AC, you’ll find it here. I blew no small amount of yen in the Akiba Yodobashi Camera. Think of a large Fry’s or Circuit City, and then add 6 floors, and you’ll get a good idea of the scope of this place.

Beyond that, we had the myriad second-hand eletronics shops along the back alleys, where you can find hard drives, cabling, RAM, you name it, in labelled bins along the side of the road. On the main drag, you’ve also got video game and hobby shops the size of my closet, selling 20 year old NES games, and anime figurines to collectors of all sorts.

It got a little dicey in there, but I got away without any daft purchases, despite some of the great video game curiosities we stumbled across.

Lunch was beef curry, one of the few things I can routinely find here that’s edible as far your fish-hating narrator is concerned. Snacks were found on the second level of Mr. Donut, and I’m happy to report that the Japanese have found a way to take even this simply pastry, and charge a premium. Still, some time off your feet when you’re trucking around town all day is appreciated.

What strikes me, though, is that we were on the second floor of a donut shop the size of my living room, and the place was packed. It’s a recurring theme in Tokyo, where space is at a premium: build up, not out. 7 storey arcades are not unexpected, and some of the best restaurants we’ve found haven’t just been off the beaten path, but off the ground level entirely.

Also, people here carve out what little private space they can, where they can. Coffee shops and Mr. Donut are little crash pads during a long day of shopping in Shibuya, and the streets bear witness to strikingly intimate moments between family, lovers, friends in passing.

Anyways, with our shopping, out of the way, we came back to Shinjuku for dinner in a small izukaya that Reynolds’ friend had suggested. An izukaya is a restaurant that fits pretty well into the mold of a UK pub: it’s a small, informal place to grab a beer, eat some small, appetizer-ish plates. It’s not a restaurant, and it’s not a bar, but it’s something in between, and more importantly, it’s something cheap.

This one, the Lockup, was on the 2nd basement level of some high-rise, and decked out like the London Dungeon. The waiters wore prison garb, the hostess was a “Warden”, and we even had an attempted break-out at the 45 minute mark, complete with sirens, emergency lighting, and the abduction of Quinn.

All in all, awesome.

This was before the 3,000¥ “Table charge”. That’s right, in Japan, it’s not cool to tip, but you can expect a comparable “Table Charge” at some clubs/restaurants.

After that, we wandered further, found some quieter places where we could enjoy cherry blossoms, and generally just exploited Japan’s lack of an open container law. Not bad for our first full day!

So, when the lights in my “Big Lemon” capsule failed to turn on, I did what any gaijin would do, and hammered on every strangely labeled button on the capsule’s control panel.

Including the big red one.

Hours later, after the day’s shenanigans, we crawl back into our capsules, and I ask Reynolds about the button.

“Hey Reynolds, how did I turn this button off.”

“Wait… You pushed that?”

“Yeah, is that a bad thing?”

“Well, I guess you’re going to have a good night. That’s the porn button”

Yep, 300¥ for blurry porno. Awesome.

Tokyo was a blur.

I’m kinda upset that I’m writing this in retrospect, as some of the shock/awe has worn off, and I’ve only my beleaguered memory to work off of until I can offload the photos from Becky’s camera, but here goes.

We landed in Tokyo, and as we were packing Lite©, we figured we would find accommodations shortly after landing. In retrospect, I don’t think this was a particularly smart decision, but it gave us an interesting look at the country.

So, bags and all, we head off to the nearest Starbucks (“Sta-ba”, to the natives), and hopped on some free Wi-Fi with the PDA. We ran through all the major hostels in Shinjuku, where we’d decided to set up kip, and quickly discovered that there was a concert in town and all the hostels had been booked for weeks. So, what is your enterprising crew going to do, exhausted, confused, and out of place in a foreign land?

Capsule hotel!

Really, words can’t describe this place, so I wish I had my photos to load on here. A capsule hotel is a uniqely Japanese concept of an overnight hotel. Designed for drunk/visiting Japanese sararimen on a budget, a capsule hotel is a hotel full of 7 foot, by 4 foot, by 4 foot “capsules”. Each one features a radio, a clock, and a TV built into the walls, but no effing power-jack (hence my silence).

Claustrophobic doesn’t even begin to describe these things, but for 3800 yen a night, they’re not bad. They even feature a traditional Onsen, or hot bath, upstairs. You know, the kind where a row of men perch on squat stools and wash up with a detachable shower head. Hey, any reason to start my day off with a jacuzzi is good in my book.

Long story short, we landed, found rooms the size of coffins, and I’ve now sen Quinn’s junk. This has all been a surprisingly good way to start the trip.

I’m alive!

Sorry for the lack of contact lately, but for a country with so many giant neon signs, Japan has surprisingly few power jacks.

To date, I’ve counted four.

So, we’ve made landfall in Kyoto, after a harrowing journey. Apparently, when you book your Shinkansen tickets on the day of your trip, you’re stuck taking the smoking carriage on the last train out. I think the same thing happened to me and Becky on the Eurostar through Italy in college, but I’d forgotten how completely miserable the experience was.

Anyways, I’m awake, about to wash the smoke out of my hair, and finally finding my appetite again. Time to see Kyoto!