Shitsurei shimasu

Buying bread from a man in Brussels

He was six-foot-four and full of muscles

I said, "Do you speak-a my language?"

He just smiled and gave me a [marmite] sandwich

And he said

"I [came] from a land down under"

- Colin Hay / Men at Work

Downtown Tokyo at night. Photo RGH

Shitsurei shimasu (excuse me for my rudeness). There were so many things that I wanted to expand on with my last post, but decided to cut it short to retain at least a modicum of brevity. I will touch on a few of those things here. By the very nature of our travels for the next month, posts from this trip will continue to be rather short.

This week, we started our trip home after living for most of a year in a land down under (New Zealand, not Australia). In terms of culture, food, language/slang, and daily life, NZ was completely different from our life in the US. Still, enough of it was similar to add a sense of familiarity, and over the past year we found it easy to adapt and navigate our way. Landing in Japan and getting out to Sano was somewhat more difficult. Returning to Tokyo was a Whole. 'Nother. Level.

When we first arrived in Tokyo, we were guided by signs that were written in several languages, English being one of them. In addition, Paul had sent me several links with directions for getting out to his country home. Getting train tickets in Tokyo was relatively easy; however, as we headed for the countryside and transferred train lines along the way, there were fewer and fewer recognizable English words. At our final train transfer station, there wasn't a single English character to be seen anywhere. We were in rural Japan and completely on our own. We had gotten that far, though, and we were not to be deterred. In Sano, we had a very chatty cab driver take us from Sano Station to Paul and Kim's house ... but I have no idea what he was going on about. The day truly involved planes, trains, and automobiles.

We had an amazing weekend in Sano (Link: Konnichiwa), but getting back to Tokyo was a disaster. I bought tickets for the train going in the opposite direction and didn't discover my mistake until we were in Tokyo station and couldn't get out. Along the way, we missed transfers and connections. As we got closer to the city, the heat and humidity went up, and so did all of our tempers. We made it ... hot, sweaty, sore, and miserable, but we made it. Our destination was Homeikan Daimachi Bekkan, a traditional Japanese ryokan in a residential area of Tokyo. It was quiet, restful, peaceful, and just what the doctor ordered.

  

Homeikan Daimachi Bekkan. Photos KAH

Ryokan come in many shapes and sizes, but we went for one that was as traditional as possible. They were first started in the eighth century to provide accommodations for people travelling between Tokyo and Kyoto. Modern ryokan maintain many of the old traditions, including tatami matted rooms, sliding paper doors, and communal baths. You are required to leave your street footwear in the lobby and wear slippers throughout the ryokan. There are separate slippers to wear in the toilet area, and other slippers for walking through the garden. Furniture consists of low tables with cushions on which to sit, and bedding is a traditional futon. We settled into our room, bathed, and got ready to head out for dinner.

  

  

  

Robot Restaurant, Tokyo. Photos RGH

Downtown Tokyo at night is crowded, busy, brightly lit by neon, and noisy ... even late on a Sunday night. It was completely opposite in every way from the quiet solitude and peaceful surroundings in which we had spent our weekend. Our destination for dinner was the Robot Restaurant. It was an experience that I don't have the words to describe. The best I can come up with is that it's like a 1980's Japanese television game show on crack.

The magical mystery tour began with our cab squeezing through a sea of people down a narrow street lit bright as day with neon signs. The blinking lights and noise were already overwhelming, but it just kept getting worse. After confirming our tickets and buying bento boxes for dinner, we descended several floors below street level down a narrow, garishly lit and colourful stairwell. We entered into what I can only describe as a miniature arena. There was a central, bare concrete floor with a ring of tiered seats around it. When the lights went off, the music started, and the people/robots started doing their thing. It was bizarre, weird, loud, and absolutely amazing. We were warned to wear earplugs but couldn't get any in time. Two days later, my hearing is still muffled. (Update ... 2 wks later and my hearing is improving but not yet back to normal. I fear I may have suffered permanent damage. If you go to the Robot Restaurant, and you should, be sure to wear earplugs)

Morning next to the zen garden. Photo KAH

Traditional Japanese breakfast. Photo KAH

We had hoped to do a little exploring in the neighborhood of our ryokan before departing for the day, but did not have enough time. At 7 am there was a polite knock and an invitation to sit down for a traditional Japanese breakfast. As we entered the room, we realised that this would be no 30 minute affair. We were told we could have the room for 1.5 hours, and we used nearly every minute of it. Little H impressed us with her chopstick skills ... snagging a small, slippery piece of fruit off my tray and deftly transferring it to her mouth before I could stop her. As was typical for our stay in Japan, the food was amazing.

Tokyo Metro zen masters. Photo KAH

After our leisurely breakfast, we had a little time to clean up and pack, then it was on the road again. We did walk through our neighbourhood, but it was while lugging our bags to the metro station. After so many mishaps and misadventures with our previous train rides, Little H approached it with quite a bit of trepidation. I have to admit that so did Kari and I. We had screwed up so many other times, that we were surprised at how smoothly it all went. It took awhile, but we learned to navigate one of the largest subway systems in the world. The subway system alone is comprised of 278 stations on 13 lines and carries 8.7 million passengers daily. The greater Tokyo train/rail system carries more than 40 million passengers daily, and we got to experience it first-hand. Ironic that we would finally become comfortable with the trains on our ride to the airport.

Big plane, big plans, living large. Photos KAH

When we booked our flights, Kari submitted bids to upgrade our Economy class seats to Premium Economy. The extra leg loom and more comfortable seats were going to be a godsend for the 11 hour flight to Frankfurt. That last morning, Kari received an email that we had not been awarded the upgrade. At check-in we tried again, and they did have 3 Premium Economy seats available, but they weren't together. Kari and I huddled to the side, hashed it out, and decided to pay for an upgrade to Business Class. Having made an 11 hour flight to Tokyo from Auckland, we knew that being able to lay flat and get some real sleep was going to be worth it. It was the right choice. Our entire trip from Tokyo to Amsterdam, with a layover in Frankfurt, took 17 hours. Four hours of truly restful sleep made all the difference. Double bonus, our seats were on the upper level!

In Frankfurt, I had my first ever German bier in Germany.

It's now 4:30 am in Amsterdam (11:30 am in Tokyo), and none of the three of us can sleep. I'm waiting for the sky to lighten so I can head out for photos of the canal near our apartment.

Prost!