Child Flyer

Whoever decides what weather to bring upon me seems to like me wet. Another typhoon has been flung near Tokyo, although this one looks to remain off the coast and send only its weaker edges to spray their moisture at us. I was the subject of many chuckles as the foreigner marching without an umbrella, but I found the misting to be quite nice. I've thoroughly mapped out Shibuya, Harajuku and to a lesser extent Shinjuku, although I think tomorrow I will venture out somewhere new, perhaps the northern area around Ueno. I think I might be ready to see another museum, temple or castle now.

I helped myself to an unofficial tour of the Tokyo metropolitan government building's 17-25th floors for a nighttime view of the metropolis, which was quite nice --the elevators were beautiful, quiet and quick, and made me almost wish to be a child again flying up and down the floors. I'd read that the building had a nice free observation deck, but I couldn't find it, and it seemed to be closing down, so I just decided to get as high as I could until somebody told me to scram (nobody ever did). It was almost for the best, as the clouds hovered somewhere around the 25th floor, and I'm sure that the (official) observation deck would be blind, and closer to the 36th floor. I intend to re-visit later on a sunny day, and catch the glimpse of Mt. Fuji that was denied me on my earlier fruitless journey to its base.

I've tasted much ramen and other cheap foods recently, as well as read voraciously (I ought to finish the 2nd book of the Game of Thrones series tonight), and walked a good deal since arriving. I am starting to warm to the city, now as I count the days before my departure to be few. The weather looks to open up to clear skies by late tomorrow, and no doubt my early impression of the city has been tainted by the foul weather which I've largely avoided this trip.

An open letter to madness

Dear Tokyo,

You are insane. I'm sorry to say, but there is just too much of you. The population of my whole country is crammed into the space of a city. Your subways are are as mad as your rampant shopping districts. Watching thousands of people surge across a Shibuya intersection when the lights go green is fair reminder of why that type of pedestrian crossing was invented (no offence to Bay and Bloor -- but c'mon). Your Tokyo Skytree tower looks almost indistinct compared to the spaceship shopping mall straight from a sci-fi manga, or the Gotham city-like government building. Yodobashi camera sells everything under the sun. I feel myself craving the woods of Blackwater lake more than ever, as this madness is just too much. I've bumped my head on every one of your archways, my elbows are bruised from banging the walls of your weensy showers, my back aches from your shitty beds, I'm sweaty as a mosh pit from your subway ride and my feet ache from walking barely halfway across your downtown. You have a madness that has spawned maid cafes, love hotels, otaku, and more than the moon knows what else. I don't even hate to say it, but I'm leaving you. I'm going to the peace and serenity of Ontario, with cold lakes and room to breath.

Sayonara,

The Youngest Mr. Mills

___________________________________

Well Tokyo isn't that bad (at all). But it is overwhelming. My JR Pass has now expired, and I have eight days to explore this place (less if I do a day trip to the temple cluster town of Nikko). After the capsule hotel in Osaka I went back to Kyoto (a regal city, I had a perfect time on a rented bike where I met a hilarious old drunken woodblock print master), made  a day trip to Nagoya (spent a good part of it at a wonderful Toyota museum that was wonderfully informative on automotive design more than simply a sales pitch), spent a couple of days cruising around on a junky orange bike in the quaint town of Matsumoto (staying at a place that felt like the Campbell's cottage), and wasted a day going to an amusement park at the base of Mt. Fuji (which was obscured by fog -- and I got there late in the day and got in to only one ride-- a stupid treasure hunt that was not the Haunted mansion that I thought I had lined up for 2hrs {solo!} for). Yes, that was a terrible run-on sentence, but now we are caught up. Oh how much I crave my own good and reliable computer! Hostel comptuers universally suck.

I have a pretty good grip on Tokyo's layout now, and spent today wandering about most of the main highlight areas (Akihabara, Ginza, Shibuya, and Harajuku), visiting many guitar shops and generally just taking in the atmosphere of the city. I'm 7 books down so far this trip, and swimming through book two of the Game of Thrones series now, which is as good or better in print than on screen. Hopefully I'll be caught up or even slightly ahead of the TV show by the time I'm back. It's supposed to rain for a couple of days now, so I might just get my wish.

Whoops for Wipha / boo earns

The reflection in a window

As you fly through a tunnel

A foreign country of inspiration

The good vibes emanate

With the velocity you crave

Which so often lies obscured

In the corner of your dormant mind

Back home in the warmth 

Of your cozy apartment

While the wide wise outside

Churns out its next victim

Broadly swimming in the deep blue

Of a haunted fate

Muddled by the experience

Of escaping your nice cell

Green grass always saved up

For next time's viewing

And pondering

Where to next? 

–------------------------------

Unfortunately a large typhoon has struck Nippon, and it caused my ferry to Yakushima to get cancelled. Giving up hope on getting there and ready to move on to somewhere new, I jumped on a bullet train to Osaka thinking that I could get far away from the rain, but of course the typhoon is even stronger here! 

I'm currently bunked out in a capsule hotel, although it's not a coffin at all but more like a mini luxury hotel room with a partition instead of a door (I think this is a swanky 'capsule' hotel). There is some regulation that restricts this class of lodging to having no door and only three permanent walls (for tax purposes?). At any rate, it feels like a hostel for grown-ups, with shared bathrooms and showers, but a nice little alcove to yourself too. 

(couch) Surfing!

Surfing (by way of couch), ramen from the heavens, getting buried in volcanic sand, renting a car and getting the onsen (Japanese spa) experience, hanging out with a gang of stray cats, bicycling around an active volcano and watching it erupt (twice), conveyer belt sushi, clouds of ash, a Japanese haircut (which includes a massage!) and a seven-course posh dinner including the best tuna and salmon I've ever had (served with garlic!?). It's been a busy several days down here in lovely Kagoshima.

My first experience with couchsurfing at someone else's place has been amazing, and far better than I imagined. My host has taken me to a lot of great spots and restaurants, cooked great food for me, explained a lot of things for me and helped me out immensely. I feel so lucky to be welcomed so well to such a foreign country.

Tomorrow I board a ferry to the exciting Yakushima island, which contains the forest which largely inspired the one in the great movie Princess Mononoke. I'm still on the hunt for yokai (demon) figurines and a yukata (lounging gown), but have collected a fair number of things already, enough to weigh down my bag to its limit. I might need to purchase a piece of rolling luggage in order to cart it all home...

Run to the Castles, Shake The Hills

Fukuoka City, Hiroshima, Miyajima, Kyoto and Kumamoto in 5 days. This JR Pass is definitely worthwhile. I feel a little bit crazy to hop around so much, but I just can't resist the temptation of seeing what's on the other side of another train station. Tomorrow I head even further south to Kagoshima to try couchsurfing for the first time. I'm starting to feel like I will make it to Hokkaido after all... just because I can.

I was really pleasantly surprised by how much I like Kyoto. I had a feeling that I wouldn't enjoy the place due to the rampant tourism, but I found that despite it, it had a really nice charm. People were very warm and polite (as usual here), and the general architectural ambiance was very old fashioned--although frankly much of the main streets were thoroughly modern. I've never been a big fashionista, although lately I've taken a liking to dressing well, but I was in for a shock when I found myself nearly buying a pair of $700 handcrafted jeans from a boutique in Kyoto(!). The place was a kimono maker that decided a few years ago that the bottom had fallen out of selling kimonos, but that people love their denim, so they took the age-old processes of kimono dyeing and applied it to denim. Unfortunately (but fortunately for my wallet) the biggest size available in the 'Shinobi style' jeans were too small for me. However the 'Samurai style' fit just fine... I'm not quite sure which Samurai house I represent now, but their flag does touch my butt.

Nijo-jo (the suffix -jo meaning castle) in Kyoto was a very ornate castle, a bit more like a palace than an impregnable fortress. It was really nice to get inside and see the faded and beautiful paintings on the walls --hawks, waterfalls, forests etc... It was super cool how they designed the floorboards to squeak when you walk so that intruders would be easily detected. I tried my best shinobi-style to evade detection (as if anyone cared) but I failed. The gardens were typically beautiful, like looking at a postcard.

Today I woke up and hopped on another train to take me 700km back South to Kumamoto on Kyushu island, where I went to a seriously impregnable fortress dating 400 years to the Shongunate era. The first building I entered was an originally surviving five-story guard tower (the rest of the fortress burned down just prior to a major seige at the dawn of the Meiji era) ----and was breathtaking. An all wooden structure that was five stories up from a huge moat that was probably 15-20 meters already was really amazing. I could picture myself there in the 1870's, as 60,000 rebel (anti-Western/modernist) troops surrounded the fortress but were unable to invade it. The main seven-story structure looked impressive and had a great view of the city (the tallest structure in the vicinity) but was a reconstruction and failed to have the historical feel of the aged wood.

Walking back to the Ryokan-style hostel that I'm staying in tonight, I was hungry and decided to enter the first lively good-smelling Izakaya (Japanese pub-style restaurant) that I found. Upon entering I was laughed at heartily because I spoke such poor Japanese and struggled to order a Teriyaki dish and beer, but quickly made friends. Before long the doctor next to me was feeding me shochu (it tasted like tequila), the businessman from Sendai (north of Tokyo) was encouraging my trip to Hokkaido (the northernmost main island), and I was fielding many questions about Canada and my trip from the hostess and cooks. It was such a fun atmosphere, and they brought me some delicious kimchi-like dishes to try as a bonus (local specialties). They all approved of my quest to visit Yakushima, universally regarded as intensely beautiful. They assured me that the recent typhoon had passed, and that it was really only in the north around Sendai (near Fukushima) that the tidal waves posed any risk anyhow.

Back to the hostel where I met Walter, a elder German-Australian and a quiet young Austrian, where we had a nice long chat about the future (the excitement and possible frights of the next 20 years), the past (the violence of World War Two and the lingering racist attitudes afterwards), the value of challenging oneself, differing international pensioning systems, what it was like being in East Germany and many other meandering topics. All-in-all it was a delightful day, although I promised myself to finish my book tonight (my fourth so far this trip), and I have forty pages yet to indulge upon.

I can assure my dear readers that Japan is the most stimulating and wonderful place that I've been to yet in this short life, and I look forward to returning again. Please do see for yourself what this place is like.

Nuclear Horror House

Japan is safely a world beyond the one that I hail from, its cities cleaner than my kitchen after the hardiest scrubbing, its people friendlier than I imagined and its charm immeasurable. A ride on the Sakura is classier than any other ride I have ever been on. The mountainous landscape, delicious food and stylish people are awe-inspiring. I trip over myself trying to match the level of conduct that is so normal here, and I was led to believe that Canadians are polite and successful...

It is so beautiful to see so many people riding bicycles here, and charming to see them do it in the rain while holding an umbrella. I have quite the urge to rent a bike and join them, but that will have to wait until tomorrow in Kyoto (and hopefully the edge of this typhoon will have passed).

Today's visit to the peace memorial museum in Hiroshima was gut-wrenching in its honest pursuit of peace as a global goal. Pictures of mutilated people and artifacts as testament to what occurred in the very same spot 68 years prior were a reminder of the brutality that humanity can inflict, but the whole atmosphere held a strong hope of the humane possibilities that the future can hold if we focus our energy in the right direction.

After a visit to the Korean war museum, it was so very beautiful to see such a balanced reaction to the horrors of the past in contrast to the anger and hurt pride that was evident in the Korean exhibit. I left this place feeling both uplifted and frightened to realize what a huge nuclear arms stockpile still exists and how much more powerful many of the warheads are than that which levelled this city. It is easy to be comfortable in Canada and forget about how much latent and pointed violent exists elsewhere.

KTX Lady Milk

When we last spoke (or when you last listened), I was on a high from climbing my first mountain (even if it was closer to a baby-hill in a proper mountaineering context). Today I climbed in another way, and cheated for most of the way up. I took the elevator to the 36th floor of the building of the guesthouse that I'm staying in, then climbed a few flights of emergency exit stairs up to an open hatch to the roof. I'll plead ignorance of the Korean language in thinking that what was written was saying: stay the hell out, but it was not only unlocked, but held slightly ajar by a rope. I took this as a sign that I was meant to whip out my camera and take a few nighttime shots of the Busan skyline while perched 10ft up on an emergency ladder perilously close to a terrifying drop. I wasn't actually on the roof, but more like peeping out on it (the hatch was tied in such a way that it would neither open nor shut). I really love the colours of long exposures at night--such magical illumination.

Backtracking a little, I took the Korean bullet train (KTX) down, which was very comfortable and pleasant. I was a little sad that we have no such similar option back home to get to Montreal. VIA is nice, but it doesn't travel at 300km/h or cost $50. The kind old lady that I sat next too didn't speak any English and my Korean is pretty much limited to saying please and thank you, hello and goodbye, which exhausted half of my vocabulary by the time we'd sat down. She was very grateful for my long-armed help in putting her purse up above in the storage compartment, such that she bought me a milk from the trolley when it came by later. She really aggressively slapped my hand when I offered to pay. She was nice. I'm grateful to her for showing me that delicious milk product, because all the writing is in Korean and I had no idea that it would be so tasty without her gesture. I believe it is some kind of red-bean flavoured soy milk, and I've been drinking it ever since (edit: I've since learned that this delicious beverage is banana-flavoured milk).

Yesterday from awakening to sleeping involved four movies and half of a really good book (The Sisters Brothers). It's safe to say that my head had a lot of stories to sort out and think about. 'The Fifth Estate' spent the first half building Julian Assange up to be an idealist prophet, and the second half tearing him down as an out-of-control egoist. The original 'Dawn of the Dead in 3D' had a campy 70's feel to it, with really good vs. really bad, and despite the weird pink paint colour of all the blood, was actually very enjoyable. 'The Keeper of Lost Causes' is a Danish thriller about a cop with conviction about an old case being improperly handled, and the main character reminded me of a Danish version of McNulty from The Wire. My favourite movie of the night however, was 'The Devil's Path', a Japanese movie about a gangster on death row who seeks out a journalist to uncover his own past digressions with the law in order to incriminate his former boss in retribution for his betrayal. It kept me really engaged between 4-6am, so it's safe to say that it is a really engrossing watch.

Anyonghi Kesaeyo

Get that boost and enjoy the view

Bukhansan mountain my baby, you have got it going on. In order to fulfill declarations made and plans forged years ago, my brother and I had one day left to complete our plan. Seoraksan mountain off in the East coast got written off due to the magnetic nature of Hongdae neighbourhood and the soothing Jiljimbang experience. However, that was of no negative consequence, as our four hour hike to the summit of Bukhan-dong (?) at just under 600m of elevation was plenty spectacular.

Our nighttime activities on the eve before delayed our start to the point of being pretty much the only ones going up as all the giggling Korean senior citizens in their full-blown mountaineering gear laughed at the funny foreigners beggining to climb a mountain in jeans and t-shirts at 3pm. The infrastructure of concrete paths with ramps and steps, roads, and rest stations with vending machines made the first half of the climb pretty easy. After missing several trail options due to our negligence of the written Korean language, we eventually decided to venture off the beaten track on a much more fitting mountaineering trail after feeling that we were more circling the peak than ascending it.

This section of the climb was much closer to what I envisioned as mountain climbing, although again the infrastructure in the form of well placed knotted ropes and grooved stones at key points still made the climb relatively easy. Sweating it out in long-pants was the real difficulty. The first plateau of the mountain was surreal, as we finally crested through the treeline and made it to the view, it became apparent just how high we had climbed. After a drink of water and a few posed photos, we headed up to the summit, which was made easier by the installation of a steel handrail on a very steep incline (I don't think I could have made that climb without proper gear had it not been there). Here my fear of heights was put to the test, as there was a 3-4 meter high boulder at the crest, where after a boost from Tom and clambering around in fear, I managed to become the tallest point on the mountain, with a 360 degree view. Looking down at a metropolitan area of upwards of 25 million people (albeit viewing the backside) from a height is pretty special. A few shameless selfies later, I descended to the regular summit, where I tried not to brag about the view to Tom, who could not make it up on his first attempt. After convincing him that I was truly strong enough to boost him and the trust in that, he managed to take in that wonderful sunset view.

Due to our late start, I began to worry about us getting caught in the dark, so we began our descent (and incidentally ascent up another peak). After negotiating some more foreign signs we made it down to base camp in no time. The pictures (forthcoming) don't really quite capture the feeling of being up so high, so I highly recommend climbing a South Korean mountain if you've never climbed one before. The infrastructure and multiple paths make it not such a difficult task, and the reward is a view to remember.