The Onsen experience and Kyoto

Friday, 28 April 2014

After a 5 hour jet lagged fitful sleep I was about to endure one of the most awkward shower experiences of my life. The capsule hotel offered a traditional bathing setting known as an onsen. This is involves stripping naked in an ante room, stuffing your clothes in a provided locker and entering an adjacent bathing room. Inside the white tiled bathing room sat a Jacuzzi and along one wall a bunch of small stools with flexible shower heads tapped into the wall. The idea is to sit on the stool, give yourself a once over with the shower head followed by a dip in the Jacuzzi tub where you properly wash yourself with soap. Committed to getting the full Japanese experience I decided to go for it with about as much confidence as a fat kid on swimming pool day.

Fortunately the onsen was not brimming with other people, instead I shared it with one other guy. Clearly we were both first timers. Fumbling with our clothes, the tip toing into the bathing room. We exchanged head nods, both accepting we were here for nothing more than human hygiene care. Sitting naked around the Jacuzzi, we eventually made small talk, he correctly identified I was American, I thought he was Indian (he was Bangladeshi, whoops). I made a half assed attempt at soaping my body and got out of there. Later that morning during checkout I saw the same guy and made eye contact. We both knew what we were thinking.

With that behind us we departed the capsule hotel and made our way to the Shinkansen (Bullet trains) station for our journey to Kyoto. The trains themselves were not only quite long, but very wide. Seats sat 3 a piece, two rows with a large aisle separating them. Windows were large and we had plenty of leg room. The four of us has purchased a “weekly pass” (not cheap) allowing us unlimited travel on the Shinkansen for a 7 day period.

2.5 hours later we arrived in Kyoto (saw my first Geisha!), met up with Abbey and the 5 of us took a cab to our hostel. We dropped off our luggage and wandered around the central district. Had lunch with Karen and Craig in some hole in the hall restaurant – Lauren and Abbey decided on a vegetarian restaurant nearby. I did NOT come to Japan for vegetarian food!

We took the Kyoto Metro to a large park near the edge of the city. Inside we walked around various gardens eventually coming to a large 2 story Japanese temple covered in gold. The temple overlooked this small lake and looked very imposing and impressive.

Post golden temple, we strolled around a large park in the center of town. A huge squat off limits castle sat in center of the park. The cherry blossoms were blooming and many a Kyotoian (just made that up) was ogling the trees. Some had large cameras with lenses the size of elephant trunks pointed within inches of the petals.

We rounded out the day with further walking around town and dinner consisting of some soup based meal.

Our hostel for the evening was made of rooms with bunk style beds, except each bed was walled off on all four corners with Japanese styled sheets giving the occupant a degree of privacy.

Observations so far: The taxis here, like in London, all appear to be of a same model car, resembling a 90’s Mercedes.  The back passenger door opens and closes at the flick of switch controlled by the driver. Set into the sidewalk are yellow plastic tiles with rows of raised lips, they run the length of the sidewalks all around time. These are for blind people to navigate by. Apparently blindness is a huge problem in Japanese society so they’ve done everything they can to accommodate people with this disability. Before every meal we are given little warm towellettes to clean our hands. The locals are friendly and accommodating.

Arrival and first evening in Tokyo

We shuffled through customs, nabbed our luggage and debated how to get into town as Narita Airport is a good 50 minutes by car outside of Tokyo. While it was well served by a web of train lines, various bus services and of course cabs, it wasn’t exactly clear to us how we would get to our capsule hotel by public transport without multiple confusing transfers.  With the evening starting to drag, we settled on hiring a taxi. Our lack of forward planning had cost us – the final fare exceeded low 3 figures (in pounds!). Hey ho, we’re on vacation. Make it rain.

Lauren’s childhood friend Karen along with her boyfriend Craig had spent the last year or so traveling through South America, ending up with work/holiday visa in Australia.  6 months of living in Perth had driven them close to edge of crazyville and so when Karen heard Lauren would be in the “neighborhood” they jumped at the chance to get out of dodge and see some old pals.

They’d arrived a day earlier and were already in the capsule hotel when we arrived. After the usual hugs, “how ya doins”, the “wow this is so crazy were all, like, in Japan” banter, we decided to grab a quick meal at a nearby soup style restaurant.

Admittedly we struggled, all the menus were in Japanese and so much pointing and gesticulating carried us through the dinner. At one point a seriously inebriated Japanese business man poked his head through the door of the tiny restaurant, made eye contact with us, cracked a huge smile and waved.

Returning to the hotel we inspected our sleeping situation.  2 layers of capsules ran the length of a short hallway, shoes neatly aligned in pairs sat outside occupied capsules. The capsules themselves were not as claustrophobic as I would imagine and they were in fact quite comfortable. Each came kited out with a small television, interior light and other buttons and knobs that did god knows what. The ‘door’ to each capsule was a collapsible/accordion style bamboo job. It didn’t offer much in the way of privacy however. We fell asleep to the labored snoring of our neighbors.  

Next morning I would awake to find a very unusual showering situation.

Quick observations about Japan to date –bowing is common, people wear facemasks like it ain’t no thing, vending machines everywhere (and they’re cheap too). People are friendly, courteous and if they’re able to speak English – inquisitive. 

27 Thursday 2014 London Heathrow to Tokyo Narita via Paris

I breezed through a half day at work (there were many jealous co-workers!) then left around lunch time for the apartment. I collected Lauren and luggage and we pushed off for Heathrow. It still hadn't quite sunk in for the both of us that we were almost 12 hours out from stepping on Japanese soil. Asia felt like a million miles away. We weren't really sure what to expect.

Heathrow check in was pleasant. I bought a cheapo paperback – some Michael Crichton rip-off about a scientist sent to a secret underwater lab to investigate a purported Atlantis discovery. Lift off was delayed by 20 minutes for some unspecified reason.

The first leg of our journey was our Air France flight to Paris, uneventful as one would expect and hour long flight to be. Upon landing we faced a 2.5 hour layover. This meant plenty of time to wander the sleek, mostly empty cavernous halls of Charles De Gaulle Airport. Lauren, coming off a 2 week hellish production design job, splurged on a 50 euro, much needed back massage. We had moment of panic when Lauren lost her boarding card. After the customary amount of anxiety/backpack searching had passed she went to the AF counter where she was given her original boarding card. Someone had found it and turned it in. Phew.

The flight from Paris to Tokyo was probably one the easiest long haul flights I’ve ever had to endure. As soon as we boarded, Lauren and I both swallowed 2 sleeping pills (or tablets as they’re called here) and passed right out. The airline also gave us complimentary face masks which made slipping into dream land even easier.

Before we knew it we could feel the plane begin to descend. It was Friday night, Tokyo time and gazing out the pin-hole plane windows we could begin to make out the Tokyo megalopolis below...

Broadstairs, Kent 10 - 12 January 2014

What was initially envisaged (please kill me for using that word) as a small weekend for our newly engaged flat mates, Rob and Bex, soon ballooned into a large affair with several families and nearly a dozen friends converging on Broadstairs, a small town on coast of South East England.

Friday 7:30PM, with Rob at the wheel, myself, Lauren, Bex and another friend James, piled into a car generously loaned to us Bex’s parents and drove off into the sunset. Two hours later we pulled up the Rob’s Mom’s house, a pleasant semi-detached two story Victorian. The adjacent house was a holiday home also kindly loaned to us for the weekend free of charge. This was where all the “kids” would be staying. The holiday home interior designed reminded me of the Condo. Nautical knickknacks scattered over tables, novelty seashells.

After meeting up with Rich, Amy, Bex’s sister and her boyfriend we shuffled down to The White Swan, a local pub owned by Rob’s godmother. Literally a two minute walk from the hours, the pub was crowded with older white British boozers. Locals only type of scene. We settled around the pool table which was offering games for only 50P (in London the going rate is £1). We faced a friendly ribbing from a trio of guys who clearly call this place their second home. After the pub closed we continued the imbibing back home.  

The following morning we drove to the nearby coast and enjoyed a pleasant walk along beautiful seaside cliffs. We passed Bleak House – where author Charles Dickens spent a number of years writing and wandered onto the Broadstairs high street for food.  Lunch was fish and chips (of course) in beach facing hotel. 

Returning to the house, we spent the rest of the afternoon laying around, playing cards and keeping out of trouble.

As the western sun beginning to set and with outside temperatures falling, we began our preparations for the evening. We started with a brief dinner of oven pizza and cheese bread.

Returning to the White Swan we met loads of Rob and Bex’s family. Champagne in hand we all toasted to the couple. Plenty of pool games where had. The local yokels from the prior night where there in full force and they eventually they challenged us to a game. Their confidence on the pool table was intimidating. However a great cheer erupted from our side when they sunk the 8 ball before they were supposed to – prompting an automatic win for our side. They didn’t give us any lip for the rest of the evening.

Like the night before, we moved the group back to the house around 11:30 and continued the festivities into the wee hours of the morning. The morning after damage was light. The house was intact and the headache complaints were few. We packed our bags, said our goodbyes and shoved off to London. She greeted us with drizzle and thick cloud cover. Bloody typical. 

Christmas Holiday part 2

Sunday we were picked up by Isla from the Motherwell train station. They had cooked a nice macaroni and cheese dinner. Delicious as always. Monday we slept in and lazed around the house. That evening we met Laurens old high school friends at the Motherwell Witherspoons (chain pub). After a couple of drinks some of her friends joined us back at the house for more chat. Tuesday saw another great sleep in ( I think it was until 12!). Early evening Isla’s Irish friend Becca and her boyfriend Tim arrived. Tim works for Tesco and was able to provide us with a top quality, organically raised turkey. We cooked them pizza while we waited for Isla and Gabby to show up. Around 10:30 they eventually arrived and the 5 of us shoved off to a Cameron family friend’s Christmas party. Friendly family, very Scottish. Had three or four jello shots and great banter. 

Christmas day was relaxed. Isla and Gabby had stayed up until five in the morning preparing dishes. We again woke up to them cooking and cleaning. My contribution was  setting the table while Lauren was in charge of transportation. She drove out to Clydebank mid afternoon to retrieve her Grand and Uncle. We had an early dinner and opened presents in the evening. Received lots of food stuffs this year and two mugs. I gave Isla a Kath Kidson mug and in return she gave me one as well! Different patterns fortunately.

Glasgow 21 Dec 2013 - Pt 1

Left London Euston mid-day on a Virgin Train to Wigan . Euston was chaos, making it difficult to manoeuvre around with our large suitcases. Carollers pipped out Christmas tunes while Lauren and I bought lunch for the journey North. Train journey itself was interesting. Sat near a family from Liverpool, probably the first time I've heard a scouse accent in the wild. Behind our seats a group of woman shared several cases of beer and a bottle of Prosescco. Their conversations increasingly grew louder as the trip wore on. Definitely enjoyed a good eavesdropping session. They were quite posh, having attended Oxford University together. One of the women was the marketing officer for the women's english cricket team, and she was about to travel over to Australia for the women's Ashes tournament.

Finally, at some point Lauren went to pull something out of her rucksack and in the process her purse inadvertently fallen out. Of course we did not discover this until we arrived at our hotel in Wigan and Lauren went to look for her credit card. Several hours of stress culminated in a happy ending when the purse was was found by a train employee in Edinburgh and given to Amy (yes that Amy - our emotionally unstable ex-flat mate!- who now lives in Edinburgh) She has redeemed herself by going out of her way to help Lauren out, almost enough to make us forget that difficult year together. 

We arrived in Wigan around 4. A small working-class town roughly half-way between Liverpool and Manchester, it is the home of the northern franchise of Lauren's drama university. We dropped our bags off at the hotel - commence purse stress out time - and had Subway for dinner. Locals are friendly here, all questions and statements are followed by a "love". "Would you like tomatoes with that, love?". Chavs (google it) also roam the streets without abandon. London is fortunate enough to be relatively free of this scourge. 

Post Subway dinner walked to the a large former Victorian mill complex, housing among other things flats business and ALRA North. At this point Amy notifed Lauren she was in possession of the purse - conclude purse stress session. I watched the final performance of the Jungle Book- Lauren did the all the set design and costume design. This was probably one of the best ALRA shows I've been to (and trust me, I've been dragged to many). For a month, our living room was covered in fabric and fur.

We then had drinks with the cast and stage managers in the theatre bar. Everyone at the school is very friendly and unpretentious (unlike those London-based actors!), and they helped Lauren with the show. She's very excited to be returning to design a show for them in Feburary-March time. 

We then got some dominos (only place we could get decent food at midnight in Wigan), and headed back to the hotel with Katy, the stage manager, who was also staying at the same hotel. 

Now on the train going up to Glasgow, enjoying the scenery of forests and endless hills/mountains in the Borders area. The train inspector came up to check our tickets and he wanted to see Lauren's ID/Card that she payed for the tickets with/Rail-card. Due to not having her purse yet, she was unable to provide him with any of this. He seemed unsure what to do, but was finally convinced him to let us go when Lauren showed him her Facebook page where she had put up a status about her lost purse yesterday. Possibly the first time Facebook has been used as ID on the train? 

Looking forward to spending time with Lauren's friends and family and enjoying a well-earned rest. Lauren has been put on the insurance of her parents' Audi, so she's looking forward to driving about Scotland in it! 

Amsterdam November/December 2013

Left work early, which actually was unnecessary as I arrived at Heathrow in plenty of time. Actual flight was only around 45 minutes and British Airways served us drinks and snacks. Landed and took a train from Schipol Airport to Amsterdam Centraal Station. My pals I arranged to meet, Kieron and Amna (they had already been in Amsterdam for a better part of a week now) were nowhere to be seen. They finally showed up about 25 minutes later, on another planet. We immediately walked into the center of town.

 We pursued several coffee shops before settling on a delightful spot called Abraxas. Hung out downstairs for several hours, enjoyed some amazing juices and good banter. We concluded the evening with bought chips from an amazing falafel place called Maoz and walked 30 minute journey to our apartment. It was very comfortable, one bedroom/bath, though there was a second bed in a nook in the living room. We could hear many noises in from our neighbors, kids crying, vacuums, showering etc. Shared a bed with Kieron the first night and woke up to Baltic weather conditions.

Next morning we went to a Albert Heijns market for juices and snacks. This chain of markets is like the Sainsbury’s of Amsterdam. We proceeded to make our way to the "I Love Amsterdam" letters, snapped many a photo and gawked at our fellow tourists.

We made our way over to another coffee shop, Dampkring (sp?) and enjoyed a nice juice and the atmosphere. They filmed a short scene from Oceans 12 here. We continued into the center of the city, admiring the canals, friendly locals (who actually make eye contact with you) and the sheer number of bicycles. For lunch we went to Maoz and inhaled some of the best falafel I've ever had. We enjoyed watching patrons from the neighbouring chip shop get busted for sitting in Maoz chairs.

Later in the day we took Amna to Centraal train station and sent her off back to London. Kieron and I made our way to another coffee shop, Bluebird, and spent an hour or two there before heading home for the evening.

Following morning we hoofed it into town (that walk seemed to get longer and longer each time) towards the Anne Frank house. On the way we passed a small parade of Dutch people dressed in traditional clothing, but even more shocking they all decked out in black face. This is still a thing here.

The Anne Frank house was a sobering, quiet experience. You walk through the lower floors of the building she lived in then up through the space her family and several others shared while they hid from the Nazis. I was actually shocked to discover how big their living area actually was. I always assumed it was a small space, but in reality it was a two story affair complete with a bathroom and makeshift kitchen. Nothing high rent but still a better situation then what I previously understood. The tour ended in an adjacent museum building and an exhibit with Anne’s original diary. Interesting to think, had she survived the holocaust, would she have achieved this same fame? 

We went into town, hung out at a coffee shop and enjoyed another Maoz. Same staff from yesterday was they and I already feel like we were becoming regulars. We wandered around various shops and the Christmas markets. Reminiscent of Berlin’s. Every one’s English was exceptional. We went to a Casino and one a collective 50 Euros. Had an amazing banana muffin from a pastry shop at one point. Met plenty of randos along the way, everyone was very friendly.

Friday was more or less a repeat of the previous day, many hours spent in coffee shops, punctuated with a large Maoz falafel.

Saturday Kieron's friend Doug flew in. We met in at the train station and I think we brought him to a coffee shop. Had yet another Maoz. Again same employees, must've thought we were nuts.

Sunday finally rolled around, again had one last Maoz, preceded by a coffee shop visit. Was back in London by 10. 10/10 would visit again.