So, Yumi & Smooth were going to visit her parents in Tokyo.
Of course, us ugly-gaijin (Jim, Dina, and I) decided we should tag along, at least for a week.
I took a vastly different approach to this vacation compared to most.
Normally, I read tour books, read web sites, and do all sorts of other
research, cramming my normally faithful short-term memory full of enough
things to do, to get me by, and to help me enjoy the history of what
I’m seeing. Since Japan has never been high on my list of places that interest
me (I’m more an old-Europe type person), I figured this time I’d let the rest
of the group, notably Dina, Yumi, and Smooth, do all the leg-work, and I’d just tag along
for the ride.
I’m not sure how well the approach served me.
On one hand, I had fun.
On another hand, I was lost for the most part.
On yet another hand, it was, after all, Japan, notable for making gaijin feel lost and out of place.
On the other hand, I wasn’t too psyched to begin with anyway.
Before I forget, this entry contains only a small sampling of the pictures we took,
see our Tokyo Picture Page for more.
Unfortunately, the scans are quite grainy. I’m not sure whether to blame the
x-ray machines or Ferranti who provided the scans.
Anyway…
Saturday
A quick hop to Detroit, which actually has a pretty cool fountain in the
airport terminal where we were catching our connecting flight. Then, onto the
14-hour sun-chasing plane flight to Tokyo Narita…
Sunday
… Have I mentioned we’re still on the flight at this point?
Needless to say, not my favourite part of the trip.
Sitting for 14 hours is uncomfortable.
Noise-reduction headphones + earplugs thankfully made the
cabin-noise part of the flight bearable.
Note to self: Jogging pants are probably more comfortable
than Dockers for long flights. Unfortunately, I wasn’t
able to find any in my size during the trip.
We arrive at 16:00.
Thankfully, Smooth & Yumi are there to meet us.
Our express train to Shinagawa station is in about an
hour, so we stop at a resto in the airport and have
a beer. We marvel at the plastic food displayed in
the windows. Yumi saves us from pointing, as she
speaks Japanese and reads Kanji. We learn more about
Kanji and Hiragana on Monday. Katakana is left until
Saturday.
This brings us to our first, and probably most important,
Japanese lesson that we get while in Japan.
Of course, our most important Japanese lesson was learning
all the names of fish at sushi places over the last few
years in Boston.
Japanese Lesson I
| Japanese |
English |
Example |
| Bira |
Beer |
Wave hand at waiter. Bira! |
| Shtotsu |
One (of something) |
Shtotsu bira! |
| Futatsu |
Two (of something) |
Futatsu bira! |
We hop on the train… it’s still light.
Smooth shows off his new shirt.
Lime green, with “Smooth” written in lemon-yellow.
Awesome.
We chat, and figure out the outlines of a schedule for the next week.
The vending-lady interrupts us, and we’re forced to grab some
snacks, beer, coffee, and anything else that will get us through this
day which is quickly descending into jet-lag-hell…
… which is made worse by the fact that our wondrous clock-resetter, the sun,
has now set.
We check into the hotel.
Nice. Small. But we’re prepared for that.
We’ve seen Lost In Translation of course.
We figure we’ll walk around for a bit, find a restaurant, eat, force
ourselves to stay up for a bit, then get to bed at 10ish.
Finding a restaurant, for some reason, took more effort than
one would have thought. We finally settled on a Japanese restaurant
in the Shinagawa station.
Unfortunately, it was nouveau-Japanese. A lot of the Kanji on
the menu were foreign to Yumi. She was a trooper, talking to
the waiter and figuring out tasty things for us to eat while
the stupid / loud / jet-lagged / crass gaijin at our table
shouted various things they thought they wanted to eat at her.
All in all, a near-perfect introduction to Japanese restos for us.
At this point, Smooth introduces us to his hobby while in Japan:
Taking pictures of his food. He’s already bought 2 or 3 extra
memory sticks for his camera.
As we leave, we have to run away… Yumi tipped the waiter
for being so helpful to the gaijin. One doesn’t tip waiters
in Japan apparently.
This is a good place to point out
that our trip to Japan would have been very different if
not for Yumi. We couldn’t even find an ATM that accepted
our foreign bank cards without help. Decrypting the multiple
competing train, metro, and subway lines on our own was also made
into a multi-day endeavour with Yumi’s help, instead of the
multi-week endeavour it would have been otherwise.
And this is just the tip of the iceberg… so nods and kudos to Yumi.
Monday
The tour book suggests that a good thing to do the day after you arrive
is to see the fish-market, which is at it’s busiest early in the morning,
around 06:00. Since we were jet-lagged and woke up that early on our own
(how did the book know???) I guess it was a good choice.
The market was really interesting. All sorts off tasty and odd fish.
Massive tuna being sliced and diced by saws and knives of all sorts.
Huge shrimp, conservatively estimated at 10 inches in length.
People preparing fish from filets to eel-kebabs.
The cuttlefish looked awesome. By the time I got around to being
able to order cuttlefish-on-a-stick, I wasn’t in the mood for that
texture. I regret that now.
They also had containers of salmon roe for ¥400. Another thing
I should have ordered, but didn’t get around to.
After marveling at the sights, what next but to marvel at the tastes
with a sushi breakfast. If you enjoy sushi here, you’ll love it in
Japan. Much bigger selection of items, including lots of ‘odd’ things
that I tend to like, and the quality and freshness is another
notch or two above what you get here. The o-toro and chu-toro
just melted in your mouth. Marinated squid was only ¥50 a pop.
They have another sort of eel, Congar Eel, that is much better than
unagi.
The differences, of course, go on and on.
Of course, sushi is best washed down by beer and sake, which,
again, were both just great.
Have I mentioned that the main thing I was looking forward to on
this trip was the food, followed by temples?
After that, off to Miraikan,
the National Museum of Emerging Science & Innovation.
As fun as the museum itself was, by far the best part was watching
acrophobic Smooth, walk up a ramp 5 floors
above the giant atrium floor.
A walk back to the train, in the rain.
Now is a good time to note that the Japanese, at least the few
we observed, are text-message obsessed.
At any given point on the (above-ground) trains, a fair
percentage of people were text-messaging.
They sell screen protectors to prevent people from seeing your
screen, akin to the license-plate
protectors used to foil traffic-cameras.
After a nap aimed at combating jet lag, it was off to a
Korean BBQ supper with Mr. & Mrs. Yasutake in Shinjuku.
Before we get into a description of the meal, now is a good
point to say a big, big thank-you to the Yasutakes for their
boundless generosity as hosts to Yumi’s friends.
Hopefully someday, Dina & I will get the chance to pay
it forward.
Dinner was exquisite.
Normally, if our gang is being led toward the back of the
restaurant, it’s because the maitre d’
has (correctly) pigeonholed us and is seating us near the kitchen,
or in a room away from the other guests.
With Mr. Yasutake at the helm, we were led to a nice private
room, sitting on the floor, with an indent under the table for
our feet.
Highlights include spicy cod roe. Sho-ju.
The Yasutakes making fun of Jim for liking plum wine, a known girly-drink.
The beef was melt-in-your-mouth tender.
Mr. Yasutake gave us a quick lesson on Kanji (the complicated stuff)
and Hiragana (simplified, phonetic symbols).
To the right is what he wrote down for ‘Nick’ & ‘Dina’.
I also learn about this little device on our table.
It looks like a small bell, about the size of the ones in a seldom-visited
American store, to wake up the proprietor who’s dozing in the back. It’s plastic, with a round button the
size of a dime on the top. I figure it’s some sort of dispenser.
I press the button to see what comes out. Nothing.
The waitress appears though, just as Mr. Yasutake explains to me that it’s
a wireless bell to beckon the wait staff. Oops.
At this point, we head out to do one of my favourite activities of the
trip, Karaoke! Favourite, mind you, does not in any way, shape, or form
imply that I’m any good at it. I need to remember to delete the video
Dina took of the event.
It was a lot of fun, though a bit different than I envisioned.
For some reason, I thought there’d be a small stage at the front of the
room. Don’t know why. Yumi is quite good at it, and duets by Smooth &
Yumi were very well done. Jim, Dina, & I… well… that’s another story.
The overwhelming selection, and the desire not to inflict even more
pain on my friends, made me pass on singing some songs, including
Monkeywrench by the Foo Fighters, and
Hallowed Be Thy Name
by Iron Maiden.
We managed to catch one of the last trains…
unfortunately, it was the wrong colour / line.
Thankfully, we managed to catch one of the last trains back in the correct direction…
unfortunately, it stopped about ¼ of the way to our destination.
This meant a cab…
unfortunately, since we were 5 people, and cabs fit a maximum of 4, it meant 2 cabs.
Each cab came to ¥6,000 easily the most expensive cab ride I’ve ever taken.
Tokyo is quite expensive, even after living in Boston or London.
I had to fight back sticker-shock on numerous occasions.
Tuesday
Dina, Jim, & I, still jet-lagged, woke up early.
Smooth & Yumi wanted a bit more time to sleep in, so
we took the train to Gotando, where we’d noticed a Hello Kitty store
near a Big Echo (Karaoke Chain) from the train the previous day.
We had a nice walk around.
Saw interesting stores and businesses… (and some not-so-interesting stores, such as the Denny’s right next to the 7-11).
Nice houses. Exactly the sort of thing I like doing in a new city.
The Hello Kitty store near the Big Echo was actually a Hello Kitty themed Big Echo.
Now is probably a good time… well… as good a time as any… to talk about Japanese bathrooms and toilets.
- Toilets are readily available. No “Toilets For Customers Only” signs (well… at least none that we could read).
Toilets on pretty much every floor of department stores. Numerous public toilets.
All this quite handy since numerous, nameless tourists on this trip had, uhm, stomach issues at various times.
- Among our circle of friends, there’s a subset that are obsessed by, how to put this kindly, bowel movements.
For some reason, the obsession went into overdrive on this trip.
Once the five of us met up, I think it took less than 2 hours for the first mention of anything bowel related.
It may even have been less than 1.5 hours.
- On our trip, we witnessed 3 main types of toilets.
- Western. This is what we North Americans know and love.
- Old school.
See picture to right.
Ponder which way one should face when using such a device.
Note the fact that, before this picture was taken, someone missed (not us).
This gives you a clue as to the facing direction.
As much as I’m into new experiences at times, this was not one that tempted me.
I didn’t use one of these the whole time I was there.
- High Tech.
Basically a Western, with some differences.
First, there were two flush settings, which were named “Big Flush” and “Little Flush” by the obsessed.
Second, the seat was always warm, something that has always filled me with trepidation in North American locales,
but was comforting in Japan… once you got used to it. You could dial the seat heat up or down.
Next, was the built in bidet. In fact, there were two nozzles or settings.
One with a shower- or spray-like icon next to it, and the other with a woman icon next to it.
Reactions were mixed.
Jim likes the seats so much he’s going to look into getting a seat installed in his apartment.
I’ll take the over on Memorial Day, 2005 for that, even odds, up to $5 for anyone who’s interested.
Others, not such big fans. Personally, not my thing.
- There’s more… but I’ve wasted enough of our time on this subject for now.
Once everyone was awake and recovered from the punishment that was Karaoke, off to
Asakusa Temple.
Once passed the gamut of shops on the walk up to the temple, it was really nice.
Mrs. Yasutake taught us how to wash our hands at the entrance, and how to
ritually make an offering (throw money into receptacle, bow twice, clap twice).
Bought a fortune. I got the best one possible, a rarity.
Best Fortune
Bad old things will turn into happiness. New hope appearing, you will get treasures. You can find hope on the cloud in the sky.
Just like dead trees bloom flowers when spring comes, everything will be prosperous.
- Your wishes will be realized.
- A sick person will recover.
- The lost article will be found.
- The person you are waiting for will come.
- Building a new house and removal
After that, snacking on octopus balls, Jim bought a glass for a friend, and then
lunch at a tempura place, tatami mats and all.
My goal for lunch was not to knock over any tables.
I succeeded.
The wait staff consisted of tiny older Japanese women.
I had expected my visit to Japan to be like the one to the
Philippines. I’d be head, and possibly shoulders, taller than most.
This wasn’t the case in Tokyo. Most people our age, were roughly our height, give
or take a few inches.
The wait staff had a good laugh at my expense while I was waiting for the bathroom.
Since our shoes were off, they provide wooden slippers.
On my North American sized feet, said slippers were torture devices.
One waitress got the attention of another, pointed at my feet, and they
both broke out into laughter… attracting the attention of yet another waitress…
<sigh />
Next, a boat ride down the river to the Shogun gardens.
More pictures than words to describe it. All in all, it wasn’t as nice as I was hoping it
would be, based on rides down rivers in other cities (Boston, London, Paris).
What was the name of the river?
I don’t know. A direct effect of not reading any tour books.
After that, Ginza. Upscale shopping district. Happens to be right near the fish-market
from Monday. Unsettling to realize, as you’re in a cab, that you actually recognize
part of the city you’ve only been in for a day or so.
A quick tour of the lower three levels of one of the department stores revealed
pretty much any and every food you might every want to eat in Japan, including
things like ¥10,000 melons, apples the size of cantaloupes, and ¥10,000
fish boxes. Dina and I bought some sort of smoothie like concoctions. Quite good.
The others went to have cake & tea in the tea-room.
I wasn’t quite in the mood to sit at a place that served ¥1,000 glasses of
orange juice… not a case of sticker-shock… just not the kind of place I felt
like relaxing in.
Dina and I walked up and down the main shopping strip for a while.
It felt kinda like Oxford St. in London, but not quite.
Now is a good time to talk about litter.
There’s very little litter around Tokyo.
The Japanese are very into recycling.
Surprisingly, there are also few public garbage cans.
The city started removing them as there was a spate of deliberate trash-can fires.
People carry their trash with them, until they find one of the few,
or until they get home.
At this point, Dina and I have our cups from our smoothies.
In front of an artsy type store, I see something made from red translucent
plastic that looks like a North American ash-tray + garbage can (the black and silver ones).
It’s blue twin is just inside the door.
They are both empty.
Dina and I have a debate as to whether this is a garbage can, an umbrella stand
(Tokyo has those everywhere, it seems), or art.
I vote it’s a garbage can, and drop my cup in.
It makes a loud thunk, shaking my confidence in my assessment.
Dina votes that it’s one of the other two, declines to dispose of her cup,
and hurries us away from the scene of the cultural confusion.
We meet up with the gang as Mrs. Yasutake bids us farewell for the day.
We’re off to Akihabura, otherwise known as Electric City.
We walk around, marveling at the seemingly unending string of
shops selling anything and everything electric or electronic.
The amazement is amplified on Friday as Jim & Smooth report
that we were barely on the outskirts of Electric City.
Tried a simple drum simulation game at one of the arcades.
Marveled at the selection of other games, simulation or not,
in this arcade, small by Japanese standards according to
Smooth & Yumi. We also find a sex shop, where we notice
that all the videos seem to have the naughty bits blurred out.
For supper, off to a resto recommended by our trusty guide book.
It was mildly difficult to find since it’s sign was only
in Kanji.
It was well worth it. First off, the service was great.
Yumi, who ordered first, received her food before the
last of us finished ordering. The little wireless bells,
discovered just the day before, was awesome.
And they don’t even take tips.
Too bad the little buzzers haven’t caught on here.
Among other oddities, I had horse sushi, and a large
snail, cooked in it’s own shell, that arrived flaming
at the table. Most notable, though, was fugu.
We each had a piece of fugu sushi. Pretty good. Like
white fish, but a bit… well… fishier tasting.
Was that a tingling in my mouth, or something psychosomatic?
I don’t know… The thrill definitely outweighed the
tastiness though.
After, Smooth, Yumi, & Jim headed off to a bar.
I was tired and my legs were killing me, so Dina &
I decided to call it a night.
Wednesday
Wednesday, off to Meiji Temple.
Some wonderful British girls hit the power button on Dina’s camera
instead of the shutter button when attempting to take a picture of
the five of us.
They didn’t notice.
The temple itself was simple and beautiful.
A bit of shopping near the temple… lots of American-style teenaged
fashions, plus a dizzying array of goth gear… were I 20 again
with money to spend it would have been fun.
Just as Japanese girls generally don’t do it for me, Japanese goth girls
don’t really do it for me either, though, in a week mostly devoid of
eye candy, they were a cut above the rest.
After that, some walking around Shibuya.
Of course, Smooth, in his usual boisterous manner, possibly fueled by futatsu bira,
called it Shi-boo-ya… much to the… well…
much to the something-or-other of the locals on the train.
At lunch we went to a noodle joint at the top of one of the department stores.
Since they had no English menus, ordering was accomplished by beckoning the
waitress outside and pointing to the fake plastic food on display in the window.
At this point we split up. Yumi and Dina went off to The Loft, a
department store that sold, well, stuff that Yumi and Dina were
interested in. Jim, Smooth, and I went to Tokyo Hands, a huge
hardware / crafts / everything type store. I got bored after a
short bit, and decided to wander around. On the good side, I
didn’t get lost. On the bad side, I was unable to find anything
that I had on my list of things to find. Most notably, I couldn’t
find any postcards. Japan is weird that way.
After that, off to the area where Yumi’s parents live.
Mrs. Yasutake asked at a paper store for some post cards.
They pointed her to greeting cards. Interesting.
Jim and
Smooth were slated for a close shave. I declined, having been
traumatized by a straight razor when I was in my 20s and my
barber was having a bad day… even thinking of it now gives
me the creeps. We took in the view from the Yasutake’s condo.
Quite nice.
A little bit of shopping before dinner netted us some toe-socks
for Dina (as gloves are to mittens, so are toe-socks to socks).
We also found various pottery-related gifts for relatives (who
have yet to receive said gifts, so we won’t go into detail here).
Couldn’t find any nice sake sets for Dina and I.
Supper time. Yakitori. i.e., meat on a stick, Japanese style.
The wood / charcoal they use gives both an interesting flavour
to the meat, as well as a pungent smell to the room, especially
when mixed with the ever-present cigarette smoke (have I… no…
I haven’t mentioned yet… well… the Japanese are big on smoking).
While waiting to order, I noticed a sake machine, for lack of
the proper word. Plug in a bottle of sake, upside-down, at the top
and a nozzle gives you steaming hot sake. Neat.
As well as meat on a stick, we had garlic on a stick (which shall
become relevant later) as well as whale. It was nice, tender,
and just the right bit fatty. I was very happy, since I’d not
been diligent enough in getting to eat whale when I was in Norway
(though, I did get to eat reindeer, but that’s a different story).
I’ve come to the conclusion that the ultimate in non-environment
friendly eating that I want to do is dolphin. They must do something
with the ones they catch in the tuna nets, right?
After supper, the Yasutake’s joined us for Karaoke. Mr. Yasutake
was impressive. Smooth and Yumi bought headbands and sang well.
Smooth wore sunglasses that made him look like Johnny Knoxville.
The rest of us murdered whatever poor song we could find that
we even vaguely knew the words to. It didn’t help that the
ventilation, given our choice of supper, was relatively poor.
The interesting part happened outside. At one point, Jim
wanders into the hall to use the facilities. Some drunk
Japanese businessman tries the men’s room, finds it occupied
by Jim, looks to the women’s room, which is taken up by
another guy puking… so… he decides to pee in the hallway
in front of the elevator. Apparently, in Japan, public
urination isn’t as stigmatized.
Thursday
Thursday turned out to be a rough morning for some.
The Yasutake’s had rented a car, and we were slated to go
to see Mt.-Fuji. I think the previous night’s food, reveling, and
Tokyo-traffic-and-streets induced stop-and-go car ride
combined to negatively reinforce going to Karaoke for the
rest of the trip. We never went again.
First though, we were headed out to hot springs around Mt.-Fuji.
While I’m all for nakedness, I generally prefer not to be doing
nakedness around other people, or for other people to be doing
the nakedness thing around me. I somehow avoided the issue in
high school. Mind you, it could have been worse, so I shouldn’t
complain. For example, my father-in-law wasn’t there.
The hot spring itself was quite nice, though, as usual, too hot
for me. It wasn’t as odorous as other hot springs I’ve been
to (notably in Bath and in the Philippines). We also
took a quick look at the nearby lake. Interesting. The bottom
was pretty much solid rock, not the normal sand and mud bottom
to which I’m accustomed. Odd.
After that, off to a lake for a boat tour. On the way we got
some picturesque views of Mt.-Fuji. Unfortunately, it was difficult
to get pictures from the mini-van.
First though, we needed lunch, so we ate at a small restaurant by the
lake. Since the menu was all in Japanese, I ordered by picking an
item at random. It turned out to be a good choice. It was a local
specialty, fried small fish from the lake. Very tasty.
The boat tour was nice, though, it was too hazy to see Mt.-Fuji.
In the end, we saw the mountain, but don’t have good pictures to show
for it.
The drive home wiped us out. Smooth and Yumi were done for the day.
Dina, Jim, and I went for some kaiten-zushi at a place called
Ganzo-Zushi. It was difficult to find, because the sign was only
in Kanji, because streets in Japan don’t work the way we think
they do, and because the actual restaurant was essentially a hole-in-the-wall.
Once we were actually ready to eat, it was an experience. Sit at the counter.
Random sushi arrives on a conveyer belt.
Plates are colour-coded for price. If you want something specific, ask
the sushi chef who’s in the middle of the island created by the belt.
For tea, grab a cup, fill it with hot water from the spout and throw
in a tea bag.
In the end, the three of us had 1 beer and 48 pieces of sushi for a total of $27.
Needless to say, the quality of the sushi was better than anything
I’ve had in the US.
Friday
… we split up.
Yumi’s off to visit with friends and family.
Jim and Smooth decide they want to indulge in a 6-hour electronics orgy
at Akihabara, which included buying fake / display model cell phones
and digital camera. How could you not buy one for a buck?
Dina and I went off to Kamakura, outside Tokyo, to see temples.
First, off to the Hacihman Shrine. Not really sure
how to describe these, so I’ll just throw up a bunch
of pictures.
Second, Daibutsu, the Great Buddha.
It weighs in at about 124 metric tonnes, and is about 11 metres tall.
From the tour guide.
This statue was made in 1252. Originally it was gilded
and was enclosed in a large temple, but the great temple of the Buddha
was destroyed by a typhoon and a tidal wave. In 1495,
the Great Buddha appeared sitting in the open-air as he is now.
Finally, the Hase-Kannon Temple. Multiple buildings built up the side
of the mountain were both very beautiful, and provided great views of the
city.
This was by far the prettiest portion of our trip, but there isn’t as much to say.
See our Tokyo Picture Page for more…
Back in Tokyo, off to a Chinese buffet. The draw was the rotating restaurant.
6° per minute is actually quite quick when you are trying to take shots
at night.
The food was pretty good, but the view was spectacular.
Unfortunately, there was no karaoke after food.
Saturday
Off to the Imperial Gardens to see the cherry blossoms.
The Japanese are obsessed. They have a city official whose
job it is to count blossoms on a specific tree and decide
when to declare that the festival of blossoms has started.
It was declared Saturday morning. We went, but the effect
was underwhelming. Very few trees had started blooming.
Dina, who’d been looking forward to this (see where reading
the guide gets you?) was a bit disappointed. One older
Japanese man who had a Roots cap with a Canadian flag on it
notices the Canadian flag on my camera bag, and starts chatting
with us. One of the first things that he does is to
apologize for the lack of blossoms. I think the spontaneous
display of contriteness assuaged Dina somewhat.
Again, more pictures than words for this one.
Next, a quick stop at Ikebukuro.
Apparently, it’s a cool and happening neighbourhood, and Dina wanted to see it.
So, we went to the mall.
Next, off to the Tokyo Dome to watch the Tokyo Giants play
the Hiroshima Carp. The game in and of itself was interesting,
but by no means the main attraction.
First, let’s get the little things out of the way.
Yumi tried on one of the masks that a lot of people in Tokyo wear.
I don’t think it helped her allergies much, but she’s still photogenic.
The stadium, seemed quite small, but, apparently it sits about 50,000 according to another fan.
They had a cute indoor blimp.
Beer girls had small kegs on their backs and would come up to you and fill a glass at your seat.
I also got some decent pictures of some batters in mid-swing and some pitchers in mid-pitch.
Yumi’s mom explained that Katagana is the phonetic alphabet used to represent
foreign words and names. This, of course, because Gabe Kapler (”Mr. Kotter plays
poker and baseball?”) plays for the Giants.
The real fun, of course, starts with a combination of Jim and alcohol.
Yumi, her mom, Dina, and I are sitting together.
Jim and Smooth are sitting together off in the distance, difficult to see
even on full-zoom of my lens.
Dina an I are betting on which will be drunker at the end of the game.
It turns out that Jim wins… how he did it was, of course, highly entertaining.
To Jim’s right, was a friendly Japanese man. They spoke little to
no English. Getting them to tell us that the stadium sat 50,000 took a couple of
minutes, a lot of sign language, and our knowledge of some ultra-basic Japanese.
One couldn’t bring drink containers into the stadium. I had to pour my green tea
into tall paper cups that are provided. Somehow, Jim’s new friend had a full
bottle of Japanese whiskey, as well as a food. He was plying Jim and Smooth
with whiskey. Undeterred, Smooth and Jim were ordering beer anyway.
At some point I join up with Jim and Smooth, camp out in an empty seat to their
left, and get caught up on the story. Smooth, in self-defense, hands me his
cup of whiskey. Jim, unfortunately, is long passed the point of self-preservation.
Aside: We also think at some point that Jim’s friend was using a word similar to “Fire” to
describe breasts, noting that Americans have bigger / better breasts than Japanese.
During earlier parts of the trip, we noticed numerous men unabashedly
staring at Dina’s chest. At one point, Jim noted that it might be possible that
Dina had the largest breasts in the whole country. All this combined earned
Dina the new nickname “Ichiban Fire”.
We convince Jim to ask his friend about the blurred out videos.
Apparently, it’s illegal to show the naughty bits. Oh well.
Jim’s friend ask him where he lives. Jim replies Boston, and friend uses
hand gestures to indicate that the Red Sox are better than the Yankees,
and that American baseball is better than Japanese baseball.
Jim, being polite in return, asks his friend where he lives.
Unfortunately, Jim, being drunk, asks his friend repeatedly.
Jim’s friend interprets this as interest, and spends the
rest of the game hitting on him.
By the end of the 8th inning, it’s time to go.
The seats are cramped, and Smooth has issues getting away, spilling his
beer over a bunch of people.
Jim, unfortunately, fares worse.
His friend, dismayed to see him leaving, implores him to stay.
He hangs onto Jim for dear life, and won’t let him go.
Jim decides to give the Johnny Damon shirt in return for the privilege to leave, unsodomized.
As we’re leaving the stadium, Jim’s telling the story to Dina, Yumi, and I.
When he gets to the part which he poetically describes as “It was my ass
or my shirt.” Yumi’s mom whacks him on the arm.
Jim gets that pensive look that drunks can get, and says “Huh, I didn’t realize
you understood that much English.” This starts Jim’s obsession for the night with
not wanting to look bad in front of Yumi’s mom. Of course, drunken obsessions like
this can only lead to making things worse.
Thankfully, Yumi’s mom, at this point, decides that Jim is simply amusingly drunk,
much to our relief.
Jim was insistent on being allowed to finish his beer, despite the fact that he
was spilling it all over, which he blamed on the “magnetic” floor or ground.
Surprisingly, we let him. After that, it was time
to use up as much of our loose change as possible in order to buy him
water and sports drinks.
The plan for the rest of the night is to walk through Ueno park, which is currently
having, in essence, a block party. Portions of the path are roped off. The crowd is young,
college students to about our age.
They have tatami mats or simple blue tarp on the ground.
Of course, since this is Japan, they have their shoes off.
After a Jim takes a quick rest stop, he misses an attempt at tackling or hugging Dina, and ends
up falling off the island of vegetation he was walking on. The drop was only about 18 inches,
but the results were a cartoonesque tumble. We had to remind Jim, both 15 minutes later, and the
next day, why his hand was sore, and why he had bruises in odd places.
Jim was insistent on finding a blond at one of the parties and have his picture taken
with her. He ended up sitting at two parties, one sedate one with a passable blond, and
another with some drunk girls making amusingly vulgar, internationally understood,
gestures.
I started helping him down a couple of flights of outdoor stairs and had to quickly
shout for help from Smooth as Jim’s drunk-footedness threatened to send us both
tumbling down the stairs into traffic. With Smooth’s help, we managed, though,
I don’t think Jim managed two consecutive steps on his own. Arriving at the bottom,
Jim proclaimed them “puzzle-stairs”.
After that, we met up with Yumi’s cousin for a quick hello, grabbed a quick
bite to eat for the rest of us, and then went back to our hotel.
Sunday
Pretty much pack and go.
The flight back, though only 2 hours shorter than the flight there, was notably easier.
Unfortunately, I left my noise-cancelling headphones in the airplane when I got off
in Detroit. Calls to lost and found has not turned them up.
Upon getting home, I noticed, with some trepidation, that my toilet seat was cold.
Kleenex needs to rename their “Family Size” package to “Allergy Size”.
