lostintokyo

Galavantions: Part 3...Oh, Enola

2009-03-31T00:38:00.000-07:00

[Scroll down for parts 1 &2]

Hiroshima was, unsurprisingly, a very different experience to Kyoto. For one thing, in stark contrast, there were literally no old temples or shrines (even the castle was a reconstruction made out of concrete). I really can't think why... In fact, the oldest building I saw was this:

It's hard to convey the feeling of standing in front of ruins that are almost exactly as they have been for over 60 years, since the morning of August 6th 1945. Maybe it's partly the anticipation, the expectation that you might (or the idea that you're obliged to) feel something profound at a site where an event so near to the edge of human comprehension happened. But there is definitely something - some sort of resonance either in your head or in the ruins or the park that makes the fine hairs at the back of your neck stand on end upon realisation that a few hundred yards away, the first nuclear weapon to be used against humans landed, and thousands of lives ended. Maybe it's just me. I did question my motives for wanting to visit Hiroshima out of all the places I could have been, and I do honestly think it was more than simply 'tragedy tourism'.

Next week, I hope to visit Nagasaki and Auschwitz for similar profound experiences. Only kidding.

Seriously though, I'm glad I did go. Whatever the - and the museum situated in Hiroshima's Peace Memorial Park is outstanding, which here means horrifying, and does an excellent job of making you sad, angry, helpless and optimistic, sometimes all at once.

The rest of the city is extremely vibrant and colourful (Hiroshima has its share of 'dodgy' areas), and I was lucky to visit in sakura season, as there are some gorgeous spots in the city. Below you can see a few more shots of the memorial park, including people participating in the tradition of hanami - cherry blossom (sakura) viewing, which nowadays means basically having a picnic/party under the trees.

Also in the memorial park is the Cenotaph and beside it the Peace Flame, which has remained lit since 1964 and will only be extinguished when all of the nuclear weapons on the planet are destroyed.

These are of the castle, Hiroshima-jo, also called 'Carp Castle', that I mentioned earlier. As you can see, the sun was setting and I was just too late to get inside, but it looks pretty spectacular from the outside too.

Evidently, this is not a castle.

Train tracks, in the middle of the road?! What's going on?

It's a bit strange visiting cities with such tiny rail networks after living in a city that is pretty much built on tunnels, and where the primary mode of transport isn't necessarily the subway. Then again, bith Hiroshima and Kyoto are quite a bit smaller than the enormous plate of spaghetti that calls itself Tokyo. It's also nice to be reminded that there's a sky behind all those clouds every now and again.

That's pretty much it for Hiroshima - Day 3's blog shall follow soon, with lots of photos from the island of Miyajima, very near Hiroshima. Until then, if you move from the seat you are currently in and do anything other than anxiously refresh this page, don't blame me if a ninja kills you.

Galavantions: Part 2...with Geishas!

2009-03-29T04:38:00.000-07:00

This shot was the luckiest moment of my week - everything just happened to go well at the right time. I took it, along with all of the photos you see in the previous post, during the day I spent in Kyoto this week.

It provided a pretty welcome contrast to the enormity of Tokyo, although it was swarming with tourists. Tokyo is too, but it's much more noticeable in a smaller city, and I was basically visiting the same places as every other holidaymaker there. However, it's a well known fact that if you ironically take photos of all the tourists taking photos you don't count as a tourist (hey, it helps me sleep at night).

I realise there aren't many photos of temples or shrines from my trip, but trust me when I say Kyoto has a few. Temples all over the place. Temples beside temples, temples under temples, temples in temples, temples on temples, temples temples temples templestemplestemplesmtemplestemplstesmpltesmplesmteplsmtplemspltmemspltes

After a fairly short while I felt pretty much templed out (is the word 'temple' looking weird yet?), and it's hard to pick the best shots out of 20-something pictures of very similar looking structures. That being said, there are some stunning places in and around Kyoto (annoyingly, I was just too late to get into the grounds of Kinkaku-Ji, the temple covered with gold). Also, as you can see, sakura season is definitely beginning, and there are some pretty spectacular places to view the cherry blossoms in the city. The pictures below (the ones taken in the evening) are of what my Lonely Planet guide claims could be the most beautiful street in Asia; something I'm not exactly qualified to judge, but certainly wouldn't argue with having been there.

Nearby was a street renowned for being a good place for geisha sightings - and I indeed spied one shuffling on her way to/from an appointment that evening- but being a foreigner with a camera instantly made me feel like I was part of some sort of hunt. The crowd of lenses gathering around any one of these women as soon as she stepped onto the street were a little too paparazzi-style for me. I'd like to say that was why I didn' t spend a lot of time there, but to be honest it was more due to the fact that I was cold and had already got a pretty decent shot of some geisha earlier.

In contrast, there are also a couple of shots of the impressive and very modern Kyoto station building, where I arrived on my first shinkansen (bullet train) ride. I had a window seat, but it was virtually impossible to see any real view without my eyes starting to ache as the scenery sped past.

I would have liked to spend a little more time in Kyoto, there was certainly a lot more to the city I didn't get to see and I know a lot of people will be disgusted that I was there for only a single day, but I pressed onward (well, backwards, into my comfy seat on another shinkansen) and made my way to Hiroshima. Stay tuned for the next exciting (read: annoying) instalment! If not, rest assured I will hound you on Facebook until you can't take the constant berating and crack under the pressure, carving every word I write into your memory forever. You have been warned.

Galavantions: Part 1 (Kyoto photos)

2009-03-28T21:11:00.000-07:00

Yeeeup, that's a skateboarding dog.

2009-03-24T05:28:00.000-07:00

The view from my window.

Who's weirder, the people dressing up as their favourite characters and hanging out in public, the people crowding round them with cameras like they're at the zoo, or the guy standing at the back taking photos of all of them (me) ?

Quite a large city... (Mostly views from the Mori Tower)

2009-03-24T05:17:00.000-07:00

This is my house now. To the right of the picture is the highway.

Soba, sleaze, and... I can't think of something else beginning with 'S' that's relevant, sorry...

2009-03-07T03:19:00.000-08:00

Well, I know how much my millions-strong readership are all desperate to read what the blazes I've been doing for the past two months instead of regularly updating this blog, so I thought I might as well fill another page with my inane and quite frankly unnecessary ramblings about all the ‘adventures’ I’m having.

I’m still working at the same bar in the foreigner ‘friendly’ district of Roppongi, a job which continues to provide me with interesting glimpses into the workings of some of the enormous, infernal machines that rumble through Tokyo belching smoke.

If you’re male, and ever go to a club in Roppongi – it doesn’t even have to be a sleazy strip joint, although there are plenty of those – be prepared to be flirted with by some very attractive women. Normally I only watch the process from a safe distance, behind a bar – not unlike going to see the alligators being fed at the zoo. Watching (usually) pretty girls sweet talk (usually) foreign businessmen into buying them drinks, or, more often than not, several bottles of champagne ranging in price from a couple of hundred to over a thousand pounds so they can claim commission later is... interesting. And sometimes entertaining – it’s hard to have sympathy for men who can certainly afford it, and either don’t care or are blind to it at least partly by choice.

But coming into contact with it as a customer is something else. In a club for a few drinks one morning after finishing work, I stand observing a fight that is almost happening (the security in Roppongi are very, very efficient) between a guy with short, shockingly blonde hair who seems like he could quite possibly be a ninja-cyborg from some kind of future Neo-Tokyo, and another guy whose hair is so enormous and painstakingly styled he is almost definitely a cartoon. A woman glides past whom appears to also be watching the excitement, wearing a dress that is shaped and cut to give whoever happens to see her such a good idea of what she looks like underneath it might as well have been spray painted on. Suddenly, eye contact! and just like that I find myself in conversation; Hi, how are you, where are you from? Oh, really, the UK – you’re from London? (I’m getting sick of the London question) ...and so on. It quickly dawns on me that it must be a very, veery slow night for business – I am a 20 year old bartender in scruffy black jeans and a hoody, do I honestly look like I have enough for a bottle of Moët & Chandon on my credit card? As she speaks she puts a casual hand on my leg, landing exactly where my wallet bulges in my pocket but obviously aiming for somewhere a little more delicate – although let’s be honest, she’s only really interested in the wallet – and smiles coyly. Thankfully, her next question is what I do (for a living), and I greatly enjoy watching the smile on her face begin to slip a little as I let her know that I am a bartender for a nearby bar. She manages a quick ‘Oh, that’s... good’ and a kiss on the cheek before making a swift departure, and I turn back to the extremely amused Japanese colleagues I came here with.

A little later, after circling the room a few times like a ravenous shark hunting for prey – and with a similar glint in her eyes – she and a friend land on the already drunk American businessman a few yards away, who half an hour previously was slurring his speech as I listened politely to his advice on how I should never use my credit card here, and is now using his to purchase a bottle of Dom Pérignon for the lovely ladies (that they’re going to pretend to drink).

I am fully aware that I am painting a picture of the district as a pit of lawless sleazemongers raking it in by duping stupid rich people out of money, and there is definitely a lot of that going on. But there are a few nice things in Roppongi. The Mori Tower being one of them; it’s one of Tokyo’s tallest buildings and also houses a pretty cool art gallery on top (that is, ‘cool’ if your idea of cool is a really good art gallery) that you can wander round if you get bored of the staggering view from the ‘SkyDeck’ (that’s rich-people speak for ‘roof’). I spent a very rewarding afternoon there – pictures will be up sometime in the next decade. Probably.

I’ve spent most of my free time in Shibuya – home of the super-busy Hachiko Crossing that I took a couple of pics of last year. In fact I had a perfectly lovely date there the other day – coffee, a wander round the extremely fashionable shops full of extremely fashionable people, Italian food and a movie –apart from the fact that I was the only one on it. This is a strangely lonely city. Don’t get me wrong; I don’t mean that in a ‘poor me, I’m stuck in Japan with nobody to talk to’ kind of way. In fact the opposite is true – I get on very well with (most of) the people I live and work with, and even have a few friends outside of these places, despite being gruff, humourless, and in general just a complete sociopath. But it’s very easy to spend a lot of time on your own here. Perhaps this has something to do with being from a very different culture and also being pretty much illiterate most of the time, as other foreigners have expressed the same feelings, or maybe it’s just the time everyone spends travelling through Tokyo’s labyrinthine public transport system. There’s something about the sheer size of the place, and, ironically I suppose, the mind-bending number of people (12 million in the city centre, 35 million in the Tokyo area) you see or encounter daily, all leading lives completely separate to your own, that tends to do something to your sense of perspective. Either that or I’m just living in Lost In Translation, minus Scarlett Johannson. Bill Murray pops round for a bowl of soba every now and then.

Speaking of which- sitting in the Italian restaurant I ate in on my ‘date’, I realised something about soba noodles – eating them on a semi-regular basis can seriously impair your memory of how to eat spaghetti in a socially acceptable way. I had to actually stop myself from slurping it from my fork as loudly as possible (the correct way to eat noodles here). I also learned that a J-Pop version of Greenday’s ‘Basket Case’ is never, ever, ever going to work. Not even if you make part of it a rap. Or add low-budget synth-strings.

Finally, there’s no way to really slip this in to the mashed together piece of anecdotal brain fluff that I dress up and post here, but I thought it was something anyone who managed to get this far should know. The cats here are enormously fat. I mean, there’s a pretty high percentage that look morbidly obese. We’re talking furry barrels with legs and a tail. Photos of one will be forthcoming, as soon as I actually take some.

That’ll be all fer now.

See, I told you I would. London photos.

2009-01-26T00:18:00.000-08:00

My sister and her boyfriend, who came down to London for her birthday. I took them to the Natural History museum, to see what the research department made of them, but they escaped and ran around the dinosaur exhibit scaring tourists.

Settling In.

2009-01-25T20:53:00.000-08:00

Well, the past three weeks have disappeared so quickly I'm starting to suspect that every time I go to sleep someone moves all the clocks forward. Not that I'd notice; I still feel like I'm in some kind of limbo due to the fact that my sleep pattern is more of a sleep scribble. Working night shift half the week and being up days for the rest of it always leaves confusing patches in the middle, where I either get no sleep at all for a day and a half or spend most of my time in bed.

I was up particularly early yesterday morning, and by 8am was at a party in a bar in New York, drunkenly singing Christmas carols like it was 1995.

It's ok, I wasn't really drunk, or in New York (the bar was real though), but was doing some more extra work, this time for a movie called 'Hagetaka' that will be released this summer. Thankfully there was only one scene to be shot, so no 22-hour marathon this time, and it felt good to be earning money doing something other than the usual.

With all the rehearsing for Richard III, working at Tokyo Sports Cafe/Lime (not my favourite place in the world), and teaching at Nissait, I haven't had as much time as I'd like to see more of Tokyo. Hopefully I'll get the opportunity to take my camera out somewhere interesting soon, and maybe do a couple of touristy things to see this enormous, incomprehensibly busy city from a different angle. Meanwhile, you'll have to make do with the pictures I took just outside where I live now, and some incredibly late (pre-Christmas) pics of London, which I will post very soon. In the next few hours. Or days. Definitely in the near future...

Heathrow again.

2009-01-06T03:28:00.000-08:00

Back in the wasteland purgatory of The Departure Lounge, where you hand in your soul at security and then they tell you to take off your shoes.

Speaking of security, I was frisked after going through the magic beep machine (which beeped), and quite enjoyed it. It was oddly comforting, a bit like hug, only you have to stand like a scarecrow, and the other person is checking to see if you're a terrorist or not. Sort of.

At least this time I haven't had to rush. Exactly the opposite, actually; I can't go to my gate for another 20 minutes, and after that my flight doesn't leave for another hour and a quarter. It's struck me how going through an airport terminal is like some sort of online fantasy game, where you have to collect certain things to pass through to the next stage, travel for hours in boring environments and fend off ugly, credit-card selling monsters. Except this is a lot more expensive and the graphics are worse.

It feels strange to be going back, and I know it won't feel any more normal when I arrive having basically missed out on the part of the day where I usually go to sleep, and then have to move into a new place and sort out all the things that need sorting out. It's been nice to have a break, however, and see lots of people I missed (usually in a pub) and go to the places I missed (like the pub). Recognising about 50% of the people I passed on the street took a little getting used to again though!

Speaking of people on the street, the day after I arrived in London a complete stranger ran up to me, hit me in the face with his briefcase, shouted completely random words like 'bang!', 'sand!' and 'boom!' in my face before hitting me again and running off.

At least, that's what it felt like. What actually happened was I went to the cinema to see Quantum of Solace. I still liked it, at least, I think I did. It's hard to tell.

I also went on the London Eye and took lots of photos, which I might put up here when I get the chance. London is much prettier from the top of a really big wheel.

Well, I almost have enough experience points to get to the next level, so I'd better finish here so I can collect the magic key to open the locked door in the castle so I can get a little bit closer to actually boarding some sort of aeroplane.

Oh, by the way - thank you for reading. I was pretty surprised by how many people told me they read this, I honestly thought it was just family and a few friends. Drop me a comment or something sometime.

Happy new year!

This Is Where I Live

2008-12-06T04:50:00.001-08:00

Limes, strippers, and oversized burgers.

2008-11-26T22:08:00.000-08:00

It's been quite busy lately - I've finally managed to get a job that will cover my living costs (and then some), bartending at Tokyo Sports Cafe/Lime Bar. It's in the infamous district of Roppongi, an area notorious for being foreigner friendly (read: much more expensive than anywhere else, full of people eager to make your wallet lighter). That also means it's got more strip clubs and hostess bars (where men with money pay to spend time with girls who in real life wouldn't go near them - a bit like prostitution, but without the sex) than you can shake a... er... stick at.

Working in a sports bar, then, is about as sleaze-less as

it gets in terms of local nightlife, although the company does own other, less, shall we say, 'family-oriented' establishments, whose employees often bring clients in so they can get comission on the stupifyingly highly priced bottles of champagne they get the wealthy customers to buy. In fact, a lot of the time it's less Tokyo Sports Cafe and more Lime bar, where models get free drinks (just the female ones, male models get a 50% discount) and the vip karaoke lounge is open until 9am for the one or two actual paying customers (and the many members of staff who are paid to entertain them) who want to sing all night.

Still, it's definitely giving me some useful skills (I'm talking about bartending here) for getting a job anywhere in the future, and I'm improving my japanese (slowly). I'm still teaching kids one afternoon a week, too, which is simultaneously frustrating and hilarious - especially now that I'm in the process of directing their Christmas presentations. 'I'm a Little Teapot' has never been cuter.

In slightly less important news, I discovered that the McDonalds here do something that I think is called a 'Mega Mac'. Imagine a Big Mac. Now double it. You should have a mental image that will either make you want to throw up the wholesome food you no doubt had for lunch, or salivate all over your chips.

Not exactly local cuisine I'm desperate to sample.

Things, stuff, and whatdyamicallits.

2008-11-12T07:03:00.001-08:00

So I went to Design Festa on Sunday, at the frightening behemoth disguised as a building you can see above. It's called 'Tokyo Big Sight' but walking up to and under it you get the feeling it should be called something like 'Mexyphistomegazord, Lord Of Darkness And Bringer Of Destruction' although that may just be me.

Sorry about the poorer quality of pictures (I mean the camera, the pictures are as bad as normal) - I stupidly didn't think to take my camera to the single most interesting place I've been all week, so had to make do with the one on my old phone. Design Festa is a sort of art

convention cum craft sale, and there was an enormous amount to see, ranging from inspiring to cool, to unnerving, all the way to down right scary.

Some artists were still working on their exhibits, which was pretty fun to watch.

I'm not really sure what this is and I'm not really sure what it's doing, but I am sure it's plotting something whenever I'm not looking. I don't trust it.

-----

I finally sorted out my re-entry permit today so I can come back to Japan on the same visa after I go home for Christmas. Now I just need to sort my actual re-entry out, starting with buying a plane ticket. Oops.

----

Also, I have come to some conclusions about why so many people in Tokyo walk around with earphones in ). I know, I know, they're listening to music to break up the tedium of the commute, it's not just Tokyo, you're writing rubbish again...

But here it's different. Here, they're blocking things out. Terrible, powerful, maddening things, emanating from the very city around them, put there by the government and evil corporations obviously bent on torture and slavery.

What am I talking about?

Theme tunes.

Everything here has one. A train is approaching the platform? There's that familiar jingle. Someone walks into a convenience store? They're accompanied by a cheerful little jig. Not just a beep or a 'ding dong', oh no. The worst one, I think, is for crossing the street. Not every street, granted, but the crossing directly in front of where I live has one, and you can hear it everywhere in the building. It's a snaking, sinister, monophonic monstrosity that will run circles around your brain until your head implodes. I keep expecting to see kabuki actors dance around the corner whenever it plays, it has that feeling to it. Although I'm sure if I hear it much more I will see kabuki actors dance around the corner every time it plays, and probably multi-coloured elephants and Elvis Presley, too.

Another reason headphones (and music) are useful is when walking down any kind of shopping street, anywhere in the city. Unless you enjoy having your eardrums assaulted by forty people with megaphones shouting excitedly about different products, accompanied by whatever advert is playing on the nearest giant screen.

If all this is giving you the impression I'm not enjoying walking around Tokyo, well, then, you have the wrong impression. It's incredible, if at times a little overwhelming. But there is never any reason to be bored here, and you're never going to run out of things to see.

So I suppose I should stop writing waffle and go find some more work to pay for all this sightseeing, shouldn't I?

Cheerio!

Another public holiday.

2008-11-04T03:48:00.001-08:00

It seems like there's one every few mondays.

I took these at Ginza, a busy, pretty upmarket shopping district. They'd actually closed off the main street to traffic, and there were pavement cafe-style tables all the way down the centre. It was a bit weird watching people have a nice sit down and a chat in the middle of what's normally a busy city road.

A very, very bad joke.

2008-10-31T04:36:00.000-07:00

I am well aware that this picture is going to raise a lot of questions. Like, for instance; why is my face so orange? Why is my hair so short? How many Marxists does it take to screw in a lightbulb?

Well, ok, maybe not all of those questions. But here are some answers anyway.

This was taken in our dressing/waiting room on Monday at NHK Studios in Tokyo, where, as you can see, I was dressed as an American Sergeant circa. 1945. My hair is short because it was too long for a soldier's hair, so the agency asked if I would get a haircut before the shooting.

'What's that?' I hear you think. 'Agency? Shooting?'

That brings us to the face question. Actually, it doesn't, because I honestly have no idea why the makeup lady used that particular shade, and so heavily. Maybe she thought it'd help me blend in with the rest of my head.

The shooting was for a TV drama about a Japanese guy called Jiro Shirasu, who was pretty important in setting up the Japanese consitution after World War II, and arguing with the Americans to get his country a better deal. As you can tell, we're not really the heroes of the piece.

I was an extra for the shooting this Monday, Wednesday and Friday, switching halfway into the role of a journalist. It's been quite an experience. It's strange how something can be so interesting and exciting and at the same time so... boring. What nobody really tells you is that 85% of your job as a 'background artist' is to wait. It's like being in some bizarre purgatory, where everyone is wearing the same clothes and the air is full of smoke and you're in some old, 40's style office for 16 hours but it's ALWAYS THE SAME TIME OF DAY.

It's only broken up by someone asking us to listen, so they can tell everyone to carry on waiting for another few hours.

For Monday and Wednesday's shoot at the studio (Friday's was at a location) we were to be there at 6.20am. Generally we started rehearsing and shooting around 9.30am. Wednesday's shoot finished at about 4 o'clock. The next morning.

Still, it was fun when it wasn't mind numbingly boring, and it's amusing to watch and experience the phases of behaviour tired people go through. There is a point at which, no matter how mature you are normally, everyone exchanges their grown-up sense of humour for one of an 11 year old. There were a lot of pieces of paper on that office set, and I'm pretty sure by the end of the day there wasn't one that didn't have a crudely drawn penis somewhere on it.

That's pretty much been my week. There hasn't been time for a whole lot else, although I did manage to get a job teaching english to kids one afternoon a week. Not sure why or how, since anyone younger than 8 years old terrifies me, and one day a week won't pay the rent, but every little helps. Nice people will probably tell me it'll be a 'learning curve', although I suspect it might be more of a slope.

Hopefully next week will bring more work and maybe even a bank account, which would be helpful if I want to make it until Christmas here (never mind affording a flight back in January).

Oh, and, none. The lightbulb contains the seeds of its own revolution.

Groan.

Woops.

2008-10-23T07:48:00.001-07:00

I've just eaten an entire loaf of bread without realising.

How does something like that happen?!?!

Photo album

2008-10-15T10:01:00.000-07:00

I've just found out that all my photos from here are being automatically kept in a nice handy gallery here for me, which is nice.

New places, new things, and an enormous can of coke.

2008-10-15T08:05:00.000-07:00

Yeeup, that's 500mls right there. From a vending machine (where else?).

So, I've moved into to my own room in a guesthouse not far from where I was staying for the last week. I signed all the paperwork for the keys the same day I bought my swishy Japanese mobile. I think there were more forms involved in getting the phone. Then yesterday I went to apply for my Alien Registration Card so I can get a bank account here, which meant more little boxes to be filled.

I'm scared to cross the street sometimes without filling in an application first.

Anyway, I have all my things unpacked, and I went out and got lots of nice fruit and things to fill my little fridge with (I'm still wary of using the big shared one upstairs). Most of the room in it is taken up by several apples about the size of turnips. I suspect steroid abuse, but they taste delicious.

I also have a banana, which for some reason came in a plastic packet. In a packet.

The need to put something which is basically a naturally occurring packet of mush into another packet baffles me, but then I've only been here 8 days, so what do I know?

Meanwhile, I've signed up with an agency who get acting and voice-over work for foreigners in Japan, initially to go for some extra-type work as an American soldier in a Japanese TV drama (by a national broadcasting company). Low pay, but if I want lots of money I'm choosing the wrong career anyway. I was, however, told to practice my narration (not sure how - by reading to myself?) for voice-over work, as the pay for two hours of that is about what 4 very long days worth of TV work would bring in.

Before I left the hostel I took some photos of the fairground/theme park that was right next to it, and the view from outside our room window. We never actually went to the theme park (which is very small and very old, but still a tourist attraction apparently) so this is like my imaginary visit. Plus some random shots from the window.

On one of our last nights at the hostel, a couple of us took a late night walk and ended up at a gaming arcade. This is one of the many things that gets taken to the extreme in Japan (or at least Tokyo). When we walked in, and this is at about 11pm, the wall of sounds hit us so hard we just stopped at the door for a minute while our brains adjusted to the sensory assault. Then we just wandered the hall like we'd just found the lost city of El Dorado.

There were some pretty weird machines, and some wonderful ones. Hopefully the next time I'm in an arcade I'll have my camera, as I had to make do with my phone. This was probably the highlight of the evening...

... I'm not sure it really needs an explanation.

Besides, I don't think words could do justice the mix of heady joy and exasperation that playing this strange machine brought. It's even two player co-operative. I don't think I've ever been so frustrated at my own ability to hit something to a beat and yet so happy at the same time.

Now is the winter of our discontent...

2008-10-12T04:29:00.000-07:00

Well, it's been a busy couple of days.

Spent a lot of time wandering around, getting a bit lost and having mangled conversations with locals. I spent a bit of time in Shibuya, one of the trendiest shopping districts, taking the pictures below of Hachiko crossing. It's the busiest street crossing in the world, and it's pretty surreal being in the middle of it. If you've ever been to a big concert or something at a big venue (like arena sized), and you're there when the concert's over and the lights go up and everyone starts moving at once, you'll have some inkling of what being in Shibuya is like. Only everyone is a lot less sweaty and a much more well dressed.

The pictures of the red temples and gates are within about 5 minutes walk from the hostel I've been staying in this week. The huge red dangly thing is... well, to be perfectly honest, I have no idea what the huge red dangly thing IS, or what it's for, but the first one is at Kaminarimon Gate which leads to the Senso-ji temple. I know those names don't really mean anything to anyone, but the place is packed with tourists most days.

Oh, and the monsters are just some guys I met on my way home. They tried to mug me but I used my camera flash to dazzle them while I legged it behind a wire fence and took their pictures.

On the job front, I managed to completely miss an interview at a 24hr Cafe/Bar in Roppongi (sleazy tourist district meets slightly less sleazy tourist district) yesterday because I couldn't find it. Not even the police beside the Station knew where it was, so after 45 minutes of wandering round the same block I gave up and went and took photos.

I also had an audition today for a production of Richard III that's on early next year. They said I'm definitely in the show, they just don't know what part to give me yet. It won't be paid, but by the sounds of it the production values will be very high, and the core team are all professionals. It could even lead to something more, and they ultimately want to take it out of Tokyo, which would be pretty darn awesome.

The problem with making all these contacts is the contact part - I don't have a Japanese mobile yet for people to call me about interviews. The system here is pretty hard to grasp, especially when I can't actually read anything. Almost all of them are monthly contract based, which isn't exactly ideal when I have roughly zero people to call. So I've spent most of the afternoon wandering around the electronics district, Akihabara, asking 'puripeido no ketaidan wa arimas ka?' (Are there any prepaid mobiles here?) to which the answer was 'Sorry' and various hand gestures meaning 'no'. Well, I hope that's what they meant.

If there's one thing I've learnt today, though, it's that however different the language, however politely they address you, and however patiently they wait for you to bumble your way through a phrasebook's worth of not-quite-the-right-question, mobile phone salespeople are just as slimy here as they are everywhere.

Some monsters and things.

2008-10-12T04:25:00.000-07:00

Lots and lots of people!

2008-10-12T04:20:00.000-07:00

Authentic Japanese cuisine.

2008-10-09T07:26:00.000-07:00

Apparently these are pretty rare in Tokyo, but we found one today. Right next to McDonald's. No, seriously.

It was near Nakano station, where we went to the Japan Association for Working Holiday Makers (JAWHM). I've already sent off emails inquiring about three jobs, which is more than a little scary. It still feels very much like a holiday, until we get a culture lesson including hints on how to act and what to say in a job interview and I'm reminded that the longest sentence I can say in Japanese is 'excuse me, where is the toilet?'

Still, it's only day three.

My hardest task so far has been buying shower gel. It doesn't sound like it should be that difficult, even if you don't read a word of the written language, but believe me - I've been in three different convenience stores for about half an hour at a time staring at bottles that could easily be shower gel, but could also easily be toilet cleaner. It also seems to be mysteriously uncommon - toothpaste and hair products have been relatively easy to get hold of (although, like so many things here, I suspect even the minty toothpaste is at least 97% sugar).

This was turning into an epic, ancient Greek style quest until I went into a chemist with Leigh (there's a picture of him below) and he solved the matter with some admirable miming. I'm positive I could still here the staff laughing all the way down the street.

The pictures below are from a guided morning tour of a couple of places in Tokyo; the Tokyo Tower, Meiji shinto shrine and the Imperial Palace gardens. This weekend a few of us are planning a much more appealing tour (for geeks, at least) of Tokyo Game Show.

We've already been to the Sony showcase building, which is for technology what an Oasis album is for overrated bollocks. Some of the stuff was painfully cool, and most of it won't even be released in Europe.

Hence the emails inquiring about the jobs. I need some money so I can afford awesome gadgets and ridiculously powerful computers! And, y'know, food and somewhere to sleep too I guess.

Other things seen.

2008-10-09T04:20:00.001-07:00

A big drum.

Sake barrels!

Black pines outside the Imperial Palace.

Imperial Palace gardens.

Palace gardens again.

Things seen.

2008-10-09T03:35:00.000-07:00

Part of the view from Tokyo Tower.

Hamish and Leigh. They're on the same Real Gap program.
Part of a gate at the Meiji shinto shrine.

A courtyard at the Meiji shrine.

People write prayers and wishes on these and hang them up.

Whu....What time is it?

2008-10-07T02:04:00.000-07:00

This blog could very nearly have been renamed 'lost in Heathrow' today had things gone slightly differently.

Everything was going exactly to plan, all the long way down to London, all the way to the airport, and all the way to the bag drop desk where I realised that weighing my luggage before I left the house might have been sensible. No matter, I thought, I'll just pay the charges (probably something ridiculous like £50, I was thinking) and wander around the departure lounge for an hour.

Then the very helpful lady at the desk politely informed me that the excess baggage charges would be over £450 and suddenly I was trying not to vomit all over her neat little red hat.

Miraculously I didn't actually have a nervous breakdown, and soon discovered that with a specialist company I could fly my smaller case out to Tokyo separately for less than half of what the airline would have charged me.

Of course, there was still the small matter of actually being on my plane when it left the ground, so some very stressed (and while I had a luggage trolley, very dangerous) jogging was in order.

I made it, though. The next 12 hours were spent watching movies and television and failing to sleep. This wouldn't have been so bad had I not purposefully stayed up most of the previous night so that I would be able to sleep on the plane. I'm typing this on about 5 hours total sleep in the last 48 hours.

I am, however, also in Tokyo. This part hasn't quite sunk in yet, despite just having returned from a tiny local Japanese restaurant, where I - along with some other guys on the same trip - made enormous, blatantly ignorant foreign fools of ourselves trying to speak, eat, and generally not look like enormous, blatantly ignorant foreign fools. There's a look a lot of people get that I've already recognised as one I'm going to be seeing a lot. It varies from disapproving, to mildly amused to undisguised hilarity, but mercifully often comes with a helpful prod in the right direction. Hopefully by Christmas I'll only be funny when I mean to be. Or is that too much to hope for?