The plan for the day involved heading to Akihabara and visiting an authentic video-game arcade and then heading into Harajuku to spot some interestingly dressed youths. I had made the mistake in my previous trip to Japan of using the metro to visit Akiba and not being able to locate the main strip – using the overland train more or less puts you at ground zero for the interesting shops. Aware of this, I used my ever faithful (and ever weighty) Lonely Planet guide book to see how far from Akihabara subway stop the main drag is, and set off with high hopes.

A quick change of line and a short walk later and my hopes were dampened somewhat with the realisation it was only just after nine in the morning on a Sunday and few, if any shops were open. Making the best of the deserted streets, I located the Taito arcade and made a mental note of other interesting stores without the hassle of the crowds of people sure to flock here later. Spotting a secluded coffee shop, I purchased a potent cup of coffee and people watched out of the large shop window – mostly of a small group of smokers outside in the chilly morning air who all carried their own belt holstered ash trays.

Waiting until five minutes past ten so that I didn’t look like an arcade junkie, I slipped into the red building and ascended to the fourth floor. Each floor was easy to get the measure of with crane games (UFO catchers) on the first and photo / sticker machines on the second and third, this just left the fourth floor for actual video game machines. Being so early meant not only was the acrid smell of cigarettes just a nuisance rather than overbearing, but many of the machines were unoccupied including my target machine: Blaz Blue. Decked out with a beautifully clear, high definition screen, I spent a good half to three quarters of an hour fiddling and button mashing my way through the game. Mostly playing as Litchi I attempted to figure out the fighting system and was thankful that no one was watching me flummox about. After my time with BlazBlue I spent a short spell on a Street Fighter IV machine as Chun-Li, getting thoroughly hammered by the computer. Emasculated, I exited from the Taito arcade and visited the nearby Club Sega which was similar in layout but far more pungent. After a short time on a Guilty Gear XX (which flavour I’m not entirely sure) I made the mistake of visiting the nearby toilet which was less than pristine. On the same floor was a huge, multi-machine Gundam game which was seeing a lot of usage and subsequently a lot of cigarettes being smoked.

Tiring of the constant noise of the arcades, I scoped out some of the stores which were now beginning to see more intense patronage. I was determined not to purchase anything given I would have to lug it all around Japan with me, however after visiting Animate, AsoBitCity, Sofmap and Gamers, it was becoming more difficult to hold back. One also has to watch for signs of the more adult sections of these stores; a suffusion of flesh tones is usually a good indicator, more than once I found myself wondering “Is she…? Oh right.” and heading swiftly for the next floor.

The only set of shoes I had brought to Japan were a pair of go-with-everything leather ones I had purchased a week prior. I attempted to wear both them and my feet in with little success, which meant now my heels were blistering and pain while walking was beginning. Happy that I had soaked in enough of Akihabara for now, I made my way back to the subway and towards Harajuku.

My only previous experience with Harajuku was a brief side-swipe on the way to the nearby Meiji-jingu, it was surprising to find a whole shopping area only one street over. Still determined to visit restaurants solo, I went to a fourth floor Pizza Express for lunch and ordered some overpriced but very fulfilling pasta. Looking down onto the main shopping street I spotted a number of familiar brands including a sizable Top Shop opposite. Post lunch I wandered the streets, eventually finding Takeshita-dori with its plethora of smaller, crazier stores. With names like “The Mighty Soxer” and “One for herb” it was hard not be enthralled, especially when some of the hats on display had phrases like “Unicorns are awesome” and “Trucker mesh hat” on them. Towards the end of the street where it joined Omotesando, the crowds became locked and for a few minutes I moved very little, yet still people around me were courteous and thankfully refrained from elbow barging through. My right foot by now felt about two sizes too big for my leg so I made for the subway station and headed back to the hotel.

Still early in the afternoon, I munched on some Pocky and deliberated on what to do for the rest of the day. My foot throbbed from the angry looking blisters on the heel, but after some ice and rest was applied, it began to look a little more flesh coloured. After much scrutinising of maps I decided to visit Hie-jinja; fresh blister plaster applied and, in a moment of inspiration, a square of padding from my camera case slipped into my sock, I was heading back to the now familiar subway station. With better planning in the morning I could have avoided the pang of guilt I felt taking yet another subway journey, especially as the station to visit the shrine (Tameike-sanno) was on the Ginza line – the same one the hotel is on; however this was only of minor concern.

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Arriving just after four in the afternoon, the area outside the station was strangely deserted, and after a short walk I was standing on an outdoor escalator heading towards the shrine. Nearby was, bizarrely enough, a Swiss Airlines building replete with a bright red and white sign and silent fountains. The shrine itself was incredibly peaceful with shrine maidens (miko) shuffling wordlessly about and restrained cherry blossoms set against tall skyscrapers. In the main courtyard were a set of stone seats covered in red padding, one of them completely taken up by a gentleman snoozing and occasionally snoring; next to him was a drinks bottle encased in a green camouflage holder. As I was studying this, a woman I hadn’t noticed before reached brazenly over the man and nabbed the drinks bottle, holder and all, and headed off out of the shrine! I pontificated waking the man up and telling him (or trying to) but when he woke up a few minutes later, he seemed nonplussed about the location of his drink. Inwardly I figured the woman must have been someone he knew, crime was rare enough in Japan and this act seemed innocuous enough.

Once I had my quota of photos, I once again headed back to the hotel, spotting a group of western looking tourists on the subway back. While writing in my journal I watched television which consisted mostly of adverts, most of which had some sort of jingle to accompany the corporate logo. The most prominent of these was Kirin, a conglomerate drinks company whose adverts mostly consisted of beer – certainly odd seeing adverts for alcohol with them being rare enough in the UK. It was the first night of the tour proper which meant a meal and meeting up in the lobby. Arriving early, I chatted with some of the other members, my instant reaction was that they were older than I had expected. Tom arrived with some odd seaweed based sweets and talked us through some basics of the tour including tidbits about himself – my respect for him rocketed when he mentioned he had attained the highest level of Japanese language proficiency, no mean feat by any measure.

A short walk later and all fourteen of us were sitting in an izayaka, waiting for the first round of food to arrive. A large number of the group had arrived the day before like myself, Wendy and Tara; however the tiredness in everybody from the journey was palpable. Small talk was rife as everybody got the measure of each other; there was an interesting mix of English, Canadian and American members as well a Belgian and various locales in between. The food arrived in waves and included eel, raw octopus and wasabi, salad, okonomiyaki and much more, all of it varied and all of it spectacularly tasty. A couple of beers later and we all adjourned shortly after half past nine and I shot straight to bed.

The passenger seated next to me was a child I had originally assumed was Japanese given his Japanese mother (who kept “thanking me very much” when I helped her with her bag, moved to let her use the bathroom, etc.); however it seemed that he was part Japanese, part German – given that he opted to watch films in German rather than Japanese. From what I could glean he was a member of a band, with others seated behind him who flitted back and forth between English and German. I did learn a nubmer of Japanese phrases from him though, especially from his interactions with his mother. With a young child sitting nearby I felt awkward reading FHM so spent the majority of the flight playing on my Nintendo DS (Kirby Power Paintbrush and Puzzle Quest for the most part) and slowing my brain down to a level where even boredom was too much effort – fractured snoozing usually followed.

Landed in NRT shortly before 9am local time, equating to crazy time for my body as it had now shifted into that polyphasic, eat-when-you-can survival mode that so often happens to me on trips. Bearing in mind what shio had said about That Narita Smell (Smells like Narita Spirit?), I waited bleary eyed for my rucksack at the luggage carousel. Each bag that trundled by and wasn’t mine made me run through everything possible that could have gone wrong: still at Manchester, still at Copenhagen, split on the plane (my underpants!), held back for searching, lost in transit… The list went on. Running on empty, I shouldered by bag and trundled through customs with a smile and a nod at the bespectacled uniform behind the counter. Tom – the tour leader – met me in the arrivals lounge brandishing an Inside Japan Tours logo; my first impressions included how young he looked and how quiet he seemed. Met up with two other tour members – Tara and Wendy, daughter and mother – whom I tried to make small talk with despite my brain having problems correctly ordering simple words.

Wandering down to the familiar Narita transport terminal, Tom took us into a queue for the JR office to get our JR Passes for the tour. Despite the length of the line the row of attendants were smart, cordial, efficient and swift: effortlessly ordering the myriad of papers and staccato rubber stamping. Escaping the heat of the terminal we all jumped onto a Skyliner train to Ueno station which would take – according to the board – seventy one minutes to reach our destination. Seventy one minutes and much scenery watching later we disembarked and stood gormless in the throng of Ueno on a Saturday. Tom and I had chatted on the train, mostly about my previous trip to Japan with IJT and what I would be doing for the rest of the day. Bundling Wendy, Tara and myself into a taxi, Tom uttered something in fluent Japanese to the driver and bid us farewell – he needed to return to the airport to escort other tour members.

A short drive later we were at our hotel, and after a bit of passport handling by the clerks at the plush looking front desk, we were all allowed to go to our rooms despite being only shortly before midday. I felt a slight pang having been the only one of the trio to have paid for anytime check-in but the welcoming comfort of a cool, quiet room washed that instantly away. After fiddling excitedly with anything that had buttons, I showered and shaved and began to feel slightly more human despite the cotton wool growing around my senses. Pulling myself away from the inviting embrace of the bed, I headed out of the hotel and towards the main Asakusa strip that Tom had recommended to me on the train journey over. I was determined to overcome my ridiculous fear of going into a Japanese restaurant solo and made a beeline for the first one I saw: a regular Tonkatsu restaurant. While waiting for my food an elderly lady sitting next to me kept speaking to me in English, only some of which I could make out. She seemed to be eating a huge meal for someone of her size which was strangely gratifying to see. My stomach meanwhile had been having a fit since the midpoint of the plane journey, thankfully some meat, rice and orange juice quelled it for a spell. Heading back to the hotel to pick up some items, I met a couple of English speaking tourists who chatted briefly with me about their recent trip to Takayama which I knew I would be visiting soon enough.

Having not been to Ginza on my previous trip, that was my goal for the afternoon which meant navigating the Tokyo subway system again. After criss-crossing the road, I finally found an entrance to the station which, I would only find out tomorrow, was thankfully the correct one for the direction I wanted to travel. Tom had furnished group members with PASMO cards (functionally equivalent to the Oyster cards in London and likely every other major metropolitan transport network) which I dutifully stuffed up using and had to speak to a station attendant at Ginza station. Thankfully he just fiddled with my card and waved me through – a common reaction to foreigners I would find out.

Perhaps a symptom of my tiredness or just generally bad direction sense, I spent a large part of the afternoon aimlessly wandering around the part-pedestrianised Ginza area, occasionally looking at my Lonely Planet guide and trying to scry where the Sony Building was. Feeling suitably out of place amongst shops like Hermes, Prada and the like, I poked around a couple of music stores before finally finding the elusive Sony Centre. Greeted almost instantly by a bank of their high definition sets (Bravia, 40 inches and up), I realised they were the first HD televisions which had actually wowed me with their picture quality. Perhaps flattered by the source, there was none of the artifacting or smeariness I usually associate with HD TVs. Wandering the several interconnected floors and playing with various audio/visual paraphernalia, I did a couple of circuits before leaving – though not before watching a music video of YUI on one of the many large screens.

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Deciding to leave Ginza and have a gander at Ueno Park, I managed to utilise the subway without incident this time only to get the the park at what was likely its busiest time. Throngs of people swarmed every square metre of the park snapping pictures of the cherry blossoms, squatting on the endless kilometers of blue tarpaulin or drinking and talking loudly. At first I didn’t think I’d stay long – crowds were certainly not high on my list of favourites, especially while jetlagged – but after a scant few minutes wandering the park, I began to understand why hanami is such a celebrated time. Despite the crowds, nobody pushes, or ploughs past, everyone courteously stays out of the way of photo takers, but most of all: everyone was having fun. The people drinking were carousing and noisy but it was all good natured, and everywhere was buzzing with music or laughter or chatter. The sky was a rain-threatening grey which lamentably washed out some of my photos even if the cherry blossoms were certainly a lot whiter than I had imagined.

Feeling thoroughly shattered, I headed back to the hotel and in my grand tradition of first nights on holiday: I got horribly lost. After readjusting the way I navigate (no longer looking for names I recognise, now looking for landmarks and colours) I nipped into a nearby convenience store (conbini) and picked up some Pocky and Pocari Sweat. I aimed to nap for a spell before tea but ended up watching a bizarre drama on TV about ghosts and birthday parties and school girls – I would come to learn that most things on Japanese TV are bizarre if you don’t know what the programme is about. Heading down to the hotel restaurant before my brain completely shut down, I had a chicken steak and was just contemplating leaving when Wendy and Tara appeared having awoken from their own nap.

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The conversation was light and covered random topics like which airline they flew, what they did, and finally mentioning  that they wished to go to Ueno Park while they could but were unsure of the subway system. I pontificated sleep – now past eight o’clock – but, for reasons unknown to me, I decided to go to Ueno Park again and snap some night photos. It drizzled on and off which made the walk equally refreshing and disappointing with me opting not to continually expose my camera to precipitation on the first day of the holiday. Despite only walking a short route around the park, I was co-opted by a Japanese couple to snap their photo beneath a cherry blossom and muttered at by a number of scruffy homeless people. Shortly after nine, head now devoid of useful thoughts, I wandered back with Tara and Wendy in tow. In my hotel room I managed to scrawl something vaguely intelligible in my previously blank journal and finally climbed into bed. In those fleeting moments before sleep, I realised that both Tara and Wendy had used “last night” to describe their time before their nap, despite still being “tonight”, I predicted that their jet-lag would be epic.

The train to the airport was on time and I hadn’t had any epiphanies on forgotten items or tasks so I spent the majority of the time reading a travel-edition of FHM that I had bought a couple of days prior. Questioning which terminal building I was to head to in Manchester, I settled on Terminal One and headed for the SAS check-in desk. I had, after much hand-wringing, decided to go for internet check-in the night before, sold on the promise of being able to choose a seat – I had of course looked up the aeroplane specs and knew the row which contained an emergency exit and, hence, more leg-room. Unfortunately I was only able to choose my seat for the flight from Manchester to Copenhagen, rather than the longer and more important Copenhagen to Narita; this annoyed me somewhat as I had diverged from The Plan for little gain. Internet check-in meant I printed out my own boarding pass which was bundled together with a selection of other bits of A4 paper (which in turn were all duplicated and stored in my luggage). The only open SAS desk was staffed by a bored looking young woman who evidently wanted to be elsewhere at half past seven in the morning. As soon as I pulled out the stack of paper to extract my pass, I inadvertently managed a wicked paper cut across my left pinky – I figured I needed something to go wrong with the journey and a paper cut wasn’t particularly debilitating. For the rest of the journey I clutched a crumpled tissue to staunch the sporadic bleeding.

Heading towards departures and joining a rapidly lengthening queue, I shuffled around with the rest of the yawning crowd and was barraged with messages of how we were all ne’er-do-wells and couldn’t have anything remotely suspicious in our bags. Forgetting I had some heinous hand-cream on my person, I was forced buy a hideously overpriced clear plastic bag (which was delivered in a thicker plastic ball, hello environmentalism) to put it in. Rounding the corner and through the first checkpoint (passport and boarding card checked, evil eye given by security), what presented itself was like something out of The Divine Comedy: machines of brushed metal in bright fluorescent light with barely human figures staffing them, prodding and poking at the silent and compliant masses filing through them. Dehumanisation is de rigueur with demands to remove belts, open laptops or to lift your arms. Through the system I went with only a slight nod from the baton wielding security personnel when the metal detector didn’t beep and the high-powered x-ray didn’t scry anything spurious. As I began reassembling my dignity on the other side, I listened as an overzealous guard explained to a family that only branded baby food was allowed, not any of this highly suspect stuff in unlabelled bottles. Security theatre in full swing.

The maximum security side of Terminal One was a maze of half-finished building work and labyrinthine duty free stores bathed in the smell of week old perfume testing. After spotting my boarding gate I explored the limited selection of stores for an SD Card reader, having somehow mislaid mine at home and after two days unsuccessful searching I figured I would pick one up enroute. With the closest thing available being a multi-card reader for close to £20, I gave up and had some breakfast at a restaurant with overworked and likely underpaid staff. When my Full English arrived, I was presented with a plate and no cutlery and after trying trying to catch the attention of the waitress to no avail, I queried a till worker who gladly furnished me with a knife and fork. Turns out however that cutlery is stored on the table and the menu was just obscuring it, much to the amusement of the middle-aged couple seated next to me who had watched my dilemma.

With a couple of hours still to go I settled into a quieter area of the terminal and read the book I had brought: William Gibson’s Virtual Light which I thought was an apt enough choice of author given my destination. Heading towards the boarding gate when commanded by the numerous departure screens dotted about, the lounge was already packed but I got the privilege of sitting between two unrelated but still very pretty Scandanavian girls who fiddled idly with their passports. The flight was delayed slightly, perhaps due to the low lying mist clinging to early morning Manchester Airport but otherwise we were lead uneventfully onto the aeroplane. I had at least managed to pick the seat for this flight correctly and was lead to an exit row seat with plenty of leg room which I dutifully utilised by continuing to read my book for the entirety of the flight.

Touching down a blissfully short hour and a half later, I was to experience Copenhagen airport – a thoroughly odd beast from what I saw of it. Following the bright yellow text for “Transfers”, I was deposited into a small hall on the other side of passport control with very little of anything. They were corridors and stairs leading off and a 7-11 nestled under a set of stairs with an array of magazines out front – but otherwise there were no duty free shops, no restaurants and no foreign exchange. With no Danish kroner and no way of exchanging my British or Japanese money, I was left to languish for the two and a half dry hours until the next, most major, part of my flight. Before settling down I checked at the transfer desk that I wasn’t missing anything important (such as my luggage) and was given an affirmatory smile and nod. The recycled air that circulated in the airport microcosm had already made me thirsty so I eventually hit the 7-11 and bought a bottle of Dr Pepper and a magazine to pad out the cost. As there were no restaurants and I didn’t fancy the vacuum sealed sandwiches on display, I made do with the fruit I had brought from home and scanning through the English copy of Empire I had just bought. The other magazines on display ranged from trashy gossip magazines of all languages to the racier Penthouse and Playboy, both on a low shelf within easy reach of children.

While eating my lunch I watched as two noisy American children clambered and stumbled over a nearby playhouse while another, younger Scandanavian child played with them. There was much consternation from the younger when it was taken away by its parents, the two other children kept being a bother though. Close to check-in time I wandered towards the boarding gate that I had found earlier only to end up wandering through winding passages for minutes on end before arriving at a hot, stuffy and crowded lounge. A cacophony of voices assaulted me in English, Danish and Japanese and finding a seat in the throng was difficult. I ended up sitting in front of a low table where two boys of no more than fourteen were playing a raucous card game and then proceeded to build an impressively tall house of cards. Boarding was delayed shortly due to the late arrival of the plane, however this didn’t stop a long queue of people forming at the gate. I wondered as to their mentality: that with assigned seat numbers so many people were still eager to get into the aluminium tube they would be trapped within for the next 12 hours.

Heading on to the Airbus A340 once the line had dispersed, I was seated on an aisle seat a couple of rows after “Economy Extra” – lamentably only a row away from extended leg room. I had learned from past long haul flights that having easy access to the toilet beat the half hour at take off and landing when window seats were useful. Thankfully even this was mooted once I found the down and forward camera options in my seat-back display. Before taking off, I wound my watch forward to JST and tried to convince myself that it was almost midnight.

• Gion district lantern
• Shirakara Canal by night
• Shirakara Canal by night
• Near Shirakara Canal
• Miyako Odori sign
• Sanjusangen-do

The missing Kyoto photos are retrieved! All things told there weren’t that many good photos on the iffy card, mostly blurry geisha photos (geisha ghosts?) and some lamentably blurry night shots – one of the great problems of my D50 screen and chimping is that slightly blurry photos tend to be missed and only visible upon more detailed examination.

I have been awake since 0330 local time which is annoying as I was asleep 2300 local time and up for lord knows how long before that, jet lag is a real pain and I don’t remember ever suffering from it to this extent beforehand. Anyways, some thoughts on travelling around Japan:

• Get used to train stations: where to look for times and what to look for (rapid, limited rapid express etc.); always note which exit you use and entrance you want, they may not be one in the same and orientation is easier if you’ve done the route before; get familiar with the ticket machines as you’ll either be ticketing, SUICA’ing or PASMO’ing and they all involve adjustment machines at some point
• Improve your train sleeping: this is a necessity if you are jetlagged or have a full schedule as you’ll be able to hit the town at night and still have energy for the important parts during the day, even an half an hours nap can improve things; just make sure you’re the last stop or have people around you who can wake you up if you get overzealous with the napping
• Learn your landmarks: if you’re like me and can’t read Japanese fluently then navigation can be tricky so instead of recognising stores / pubs, go for colours or tall buildings or quirky objects outside, there are plenty of all three kicking about and makes exploring a hell of a lot simpler
• Be prepared to be scrutinised: if you’re European or American then you will naturally stand out in most areas of Japan, Tokyo not so much but other areas you will be glanced at more often than not, a friendly smile and a nod is usually all it takes to make everyone feel at ease; there will also be a natural radius around you on trains and local transport, you can mitigate this by plonking yourself in between two current passengers but otherwise there is a general reluctance to sit next to you if it can be at all helped.
• Don’t expect high technology everywhere: Tokyo is privileged in its use of wireless internet, modern transport methods and so forth but other areas of Japan can be just as rural and disconnected as your home country – downloading TV to your mobile phone is a nicety, not provided as standard
• Get good shoes: or tough feet (general life advice but especially relevant)

I know have a plethora of bits of paper (receipts, ticket stubs, reservation tickets, leaflets etc.) and photos to organise. Last count for photos was just a hair under 700 and unlike my last trip there are very few duplicates and the overall quality of the photos has surprised even me – helped of course by the stellar weather that held for all but a single day. One thing I do regret is not taking my lens hood for my 18-200, with the 18-55 there’s little need for one but looking through some of the photos there was definitely a need for one (and me holding the lens cap in conspicuous positions was not a good interim solution) – here was me thinking lens hoods were just for camera pimping.

Other random thoughts include my choice of clothing – definitely took too many warmer tops although I was expecting the weather to be 6-8 degrees less than it was, unseasonable warmth indeed. No matter how much you cram into a backpack, it can always hold more with judicious application of body weight and zip moulding. Do not trust hotel bedside clocks – their alarms oscillate between weedy and useless to sonic sleep destroyers. Hotel wake up calls are surprisingly sinister at 6am.

• Shinjuku station on a Saturday – bleh
• Shinjuku station on a Saturday night while squiffy and trying to get from east to west – bleh
• My bag is the densest thing in the universe, its gravitational field has already claimed my sanity
• Akihabara – noisy
• DVDs – expensive
• CDs – my addiction

Now for 1.5 hours on a train, 12 hours on a plane, 2 hours in an airport, 1.5 hours on a plane and 40 minutes on a train (and 15 minutes in a taxi most likely). Homeward bound.

• Across Hakone area
• Crystals in the Venetian Glass Forest
• Owakudani
• Fuji-san through the mist
• Cedar lined avenue
• Fujiya hotel by night

Back in Tokyo! Where people have actually heard of the internet rather than having to walk 20+ minutes to the nearest ‘net cafe or in Hakone where people just scratched their heads and shrugged their shoulders.

Had some good times in Kyoto, day tripped out to Osaka and then bullet trained it to Hakone which was deep in the mountains but the weather held thankfully. Now back in Tokyo where I’ve already done some shopping and aiming to do more tomorrow. The hotel is awesome but I’ve just seen a sign that limits me to 20 minutes on this PC so better skidaddle. A few photos for you. More tomorrow likely.

Not long before I’m back to normality now!

• Matsumoto castle
• Matsumoto Castle
• Matsumoto castle
• Matsumoto Castle from the grounds
• Cherry blossom in Matsumoto Castle grounds
• View from the top of Matsumoto Castle
• A shot east across Matsumoto
• National Heritage school
• Kaichi school in Matsumoto
• Final Fantasy promotional drink
• Break stop on the way to Takayama
• Rest stop on the way to Takayama
• Tanabe ryokan entrance
• Tanabe ryokan entrance
• The ryokan in Takayama
• Tanabe ryokan corridor
• Local sake shop in Takayama
• Bowls in Takayama
• Wooden bowls in a craft shop in Takayama
• One of the many shrines in Takayama
• Out and about in Takayama
• Before the banquet
• Group shot
• Group shot
• Tanabe ryokan garden
• The small garden in the ryokan
• From the empty banquet hall
• Dolls on display at the Tanabe ryokan
• Lattice screens
• Tanabe ryokan ceiling
• Takayama in bloom (almost)
• Miyagawa river
• Camera man filming tourists
• Hida folk village
• Hida no Sato folk village
• A loom in one of the houses of Hida no Sato
• Hida no Sato folk village house
• Hida no Sato house roof
• Hida no Sato house wall
• Hida Folk village pond
• Hida no Sato pond
• Hida Folk village summit
• View from the back of Hida no Sato
• View from Hida no Sato entrance
• Out and about in Takayama
• Torii gate on the Takayama temple walk
• Buddhist cemetery
• Takayama temple walk
• Takayama shrine
• Overlooking the outskirts of Takyama
• Unsafe bridge at temple
• View across the river
• Kanazawa Kenroku-en
• Hanami in Kanazawa
• Great Blue Heron posing in Kenrokuen Garden
• Kanazawa Kenroku-en
• The entrance to Kanazawa Castle park
• Afternoon hanami in the shadow of the castle
• Floating cherry blossoms
• Kanazawa sakura
• Cherry blossoms in the afternoon
• Kanazawa castle courtyard
• Cherry blossoms in Kanazawa
• Tree roots in Kenrokuen
• Kanazawa Kenroku-en fountain
• Rainbow fountain
• Cherry blossom silhouettes
• Flourescent hillside
• River by night
• Kanazawa by night
• Kanazawa by night
• Riverside by night
• Kanazawa by night
• Kanazawa main strip by night
• Big Echo Karaoke
• Gion district lantern
• Shirakara Canal by night
• Shirakara Canal by night
• Near Shirakara Canal
• Miyako Odori sign

So I’m sitting in an internet cafe in Kyoto and this is perhaps the first chance I’ve had to upload photos or use the internet in a decent form. All the computers so far have been non-existent or so antiquated as to be unusable. But that is an aside! Takayama, Matsumoto and Kanazawa all down and now in Kyoto for the second day, much train sleeping and photo taking has been had. Takayama was a great little town with sake tasting and little handycraft stalls aplenty. Kanazawa was this hugely bustling city with busy traffic and all that nonsense, but did end up under the cherry blossoms at night drinking sake and having a merry old time.

Travelled to Kyoto yesterday and went to the Miyako Odori – the Spring Geisha Dances. Words cannot describe how brilliant they were, such grace and beauty in motion. Was difficult to see them as anything other than art except if you caught a fleeting moment of them doing something pedestrian like turning a page or shifting their seat. Certainly an unforgettable experience, especially as they didn’t allow photos in there – not that they would have done them justice.

Today visited the temple of 1001 kanon which was another brilliant visit, very holy and utterly unique and again, no photos allowed. I was just on the way to the Kyoto International Manga Museum when I spotted this place.

I’m going to forgo uploading my latest set as my camera has just thrown a hissy fit with the card which has me worried so my blurry geisha walk photos will have to wait.

Woke up late today  (lots of beer will do that) and travelled to Takeyama by bus – such brilliant views of the mountain with snow and tunnels and all sorts to see. Takeyama is definitely of a slower pace, already had one bath and now waiting for dinner in the traditional ryokan. Think I caught the sun in Matsumoto so factor 20 today. 

Please excuse any double m’s or lack of spaces, working with tiny keys and trying not to hit the “type stuff in Japanese” button.  There is also the lack of a visible backspace button. It also seems I can’t escape IE6 however many miles away – it follows me everywhere.

• One of the entrance courtyards to Tosho-gu
• Torii gate at Tosho-gu
• Entrance to the main area of Tosho-gu
• Lanterns outside Tosho-gu
• Tosho-gu
• Tosho-gu
• Bell outside Tosho-gu
• Shrine adornments at Tosho-gu
• One of the temple ornaments at Tosho-gu
• Shrine decoration at Tosho-gu
• Hairy elephant shrine carving at Tosho-gu
• View upwards at Futarasan
• Bell tower at Tosho-gu
• Shrine pattern at Tosho-gu
• Moss at Tosho-gu
• Imperial bridge outside Tosho-gu
• Imperial bridge outside Tosho-gu
• Sacred bridge of Futarasan
• View from Nikko station

Most of my internet access has been in the brief, fleeting moments while waiting for the group to gather for the day’s activities so it’as somewhat nice to be able to have some time to actually write something that doesn’t end with the equivalent “okaygottaguybye!”.

My feet were doing (slightly) better today thanks to some loosening of shoes and no longer having any skin to lose from them although my left foot has shown some signs of trying to copy my right – not best pleased. Nikko today was awesome and showed me something that I hadn’t seen before in a temple; it was sprawling, ornate and yet quiet and reserved at the same time. I also started getting fancier with my camera, having found out yesterday that I had somehow fixed the camera on aperture priority somewhere in transit which was slightly embarrassing but I’ve been storing up some shots for panoramas and also tried a long exposure today of the bridge for some floaty water effect.

Leaving Tokyo is definitely a good thing as having been here for the past three to four days has let me become a bit jaded to it which is not what I had expected. I’ve been using a lot more of the language than I did last time (much to the amazement of one of the hotel clerks when I said good morning to him, to his credit, it was 4am so maybe that’s how he always looks) so I’ve crested the hill that is ordering food and not looking like a complete twit. I’m torn between whether I’m getting used to the language or just using what is most likely to be said next and going from there. Thankfully a lot of Japanese seem happy to ask me questions in English and for me to answer in Japanese, at least then everyone knows what is being said.

Tokyo itself is impossible to encapsulate in a single sentence or paragraph, there is now easy way of saying “City of the Future” or “Bustling metropolis” and capturing the spirit of it, even if both are true and I’ve only been in the city just over 150 hours total. You can be wandering down the street and hear a melody you recognise with words you don’t while nearly being hit by the plethora of bicycle riders and being barraged with neon advertising high above you. Eclctic doesn’t even begin to sum it up. It is a city I love though, there is no congestion to speak of, the transport is first rate and there truly is everything you can think of to do or to buy (both probably available from the local convenience store). I’ll be glad to come back to Tokyo, but just as London isn’t England, Tokyo isn’t Japan and there are hot springs and all sorts of other goodies awaiting.

• Tuna at Tsukiji Fish Market
• An auctioneers stand
• Auction stool and bell
• Tsukiji Fish Market tuna
• Dawn at Tsukiji
• Skyscrapers between Tsukiji and Ginza
• Looking towards Ginza
• Entrance to Senso-ji
• Outside Senso-ji
• Pagoda at Senso-ji
• Senso-ji hanami
• Koma inu in Senso-ji
• Along the bank of the Sumida river
• Cherry blossoms by the Sumida River
• Hanami
• Hamarikyu Gardens
• Hama-rikyu tien - Tea house
• One bridge in Hamarikyu Gardens
• Hama-rikyu tien bridge
• The same bridge at Hamarikyu Gardens
• The entrance to Meiji-jingu
• Torii gate at the entrance to Meiji-jingu

The big temptation for this time of year I would imagine is just snapping roll after roll (meabytes of megabytes?) of cherry blossom pictures. It’s not that they’re ugly, but there is the risk of beginning slightly pink-blind by it all. So for now, I’m trying to snap photos that contain more than just pink. Apart from that one of the branches, that’s just purty.

I made a monumentally bad coice when it came to shoes this time around as I either didn’t break these shoes in correctly or they are in fact shoes crafted by the devil himself because my left leg has some traumatic blisters on it. One on either side of the heel that means one blister plaster isn’t large enough to cover both. By now most of the skin that would have protected them has gone and they are red and angry which has spread to the rest of my leg which is slightly disturbing. I’ve taken to paddig my shoe with a bit of grey foam cribbed from my camera bag to protect them but I get the feeling that at some point in the holiday I may have to plump for new shoes or end up crippled. It’s odd how things like that can prey on your mind, especially as my jet lag still hasn’t full dissapated yet (dammit) and fevered dreams of my leg dropping off from these blisters are not uncommon.

Bit of a revisit of some locations yesterday. Senso-ji has moved its construction from the outer gate to the main building which is now ensconced in scaffolding. The good weather and cherry blossoms makes it an almost entirely different place to visit than my first time when it was raining and I had just stepped off the flight. Hama-rikyu we managed to visit the tea house which was a brilliant experience and good cake. The Sumida river taxi was packed which meant we had to go into the underbelly and a miss a lot of the view nfortunately. I came back to the hotel at Meiji-jingu now being in some pain from the evil shoes and napped for a spell. I’d also managed to catch the sun on my head a bit which is odd for April!

Off to Nikko now!

• Cherry blossoms at Hie-jinja
• Sakura in Hei-jinja
• Hei-jinja
• Hie-jinja against a skyscraper
• Miko at Hei-jinja
• Cranes around Hei-jinja
• Torii corridor at Hie-jinja
• Torii tunnel at Hei-jinja
• Torii
• Torii gate at Hei-jinja
• Sacred BMW
• Sake barrels outside Hie-jinja
• Entrance to Hei-jinja

Hit Akihabara yesterday but got there early (before 9am) which meant that everything was closed but it meant I could explored the strip without the crowd. Went into a coffee shop for a spell before going to a couple of arcades once they were open. Also couldn’t help going into shops like AsoBitCity and Sofmap as it seemed a waste not to…

After that went to Harajuku for food then wandering the back streets where I got thoroughly trapped in a people jam. Headed back to the hotel with blisters playing up then went to Hie-jinja for a bed of sedate cherry blossom watching, a big difference from the crowds of Ueno.

Met up with the rest of the group in the evening and had some excellent food and drinks. Evidently still had jet lag as I was up at half two in the morning! Cest la vie. First day of the full tour now. Tsukiji was earlier (much earlier) for some awesome sushi.

My brain was working so well but it seems my typing dexterity is hindering me getting across exactly what I mean. More later!

• Hanami in Ueno
• Hanami in Ueno
• Hanami in Ueno
• Hanami in Ueno
• Festivities
• Cherry blossoms in Ueno
• Cherry blossoms in Ueno
• Down the main Ueno park strip
• Festivities in Ueno
• Sake barrels
• Rain and cherry blossoms
• Ueno at night
• Ueno at night

And these keyboards are very strange to type on, I accidentally hit the Japanese key a short while ago an the level of panic I felt when I couldn’t change it back was great. I also keep missing the shift key but that’s likely because of my lack of coordination at the moment.

Won’t write a huge epic rundown of what happened so in short: journey was fine, planes delayed slightly but not by much. Manchester terminal one security is like one of the circles of hell described by Dante, an utterly dehumanising experience. SAS flights are just like every other really but I managed to sleep somewhat. Landed and met up with the tour leader and a couple of others from the group, got straight into my room so had a shower and felt slightly more human. Went over to Ginza and had a wander around (read: got lost) and then headed to Ueno park for some Hanami. The park was packed but everyone was having such a good time it was hard not to get swept up in it all. Managed to get some tea and met up with the two from before again and went to Ueno again for some night shots, shame it was raining a bit. Got to sleep at nine, slept pretty much straight through till six, no sign of my aeroplan throat this morning.

Now, to Akiba and Harajuku!

Maybe organising it would help.

No, that really didn’t help…

Nothing for it I guess.

That was surprisingly easy.

Sure it probably weighs over twenty kilos, but what’s a dislocated shoulder between friends?

The madness begins…

My brain mostly works on the idea of “if”. Given time to gestate, certainties and decisions are questioned and scrutinised; for instance, on a journey to London for a meeting at 1:30pm I know the train I should be catching but if something happens with that train, I can catch another one however many minutes later. Having multiple ifs is when I’m most relaxed, and mostly they come from doing the journey before or planning for it or having as few immovable times and places as possible. This mentality usually translates to showing up at whatever transport station is the most important in the journey (train stations and airports fall into this category) with “ample” time to spare. Ample time usually equating to three or four times longer than I really have to wait: the more time I’m sitting twiddling my thumbs is more time that could have been used up on ifs.

For a long time, I scoffed at document wallets; the ones touted in shops of sundry right next to the “luxury passport holder” and neck pillow (ensuring you get the minimum amount of sleep for maximum amount of neck discomfort). I then realised that document wallets serve the purpose of compartmentalising items which in turn compartmentalises the part of my brain worried about the location of all items on my person at all times, thus reducing my worry. I could, as an example, just fling everything into a backpack and extract items and documents as and when I needed them; however, my backpack also contains a magazine and food, I’ll have to navigate them (sacrificing precious seconds) to get at just one item. Conversely, keeping everything together potentially makes it easier to pilfer, unfortunately thievery is a game stopper and one has to balance the mental anguish of keeping items safe with alleviating angst. I still scoff at single passport covers however because they serve no other purpose than to kill a cow (another cow potentially if your passport is already leather bound) for your style or to satisfy your lust to “bling” your travel documents.

I have, if anything, mellowed out somewhat from my earlier days of borderline neuroses. This has mostly come about due to further journeys and understanding how systems work (where to go in an airport, where to look for times, where best to sit and people watch) but mostly by travelling with other people. Time was when I would eagerly stride off on my own if not simply because it meant I would no longer have to encompass other people, with their own whims and timetables, into my carefully laid plans; nowadays I understand the push and pull of journeying with others and in return they brook me at least some leeway with being at places an hour before we can even access ticketing desks.