Category: Travel

It’s been a long last day with family here in San Francisco, and boy are my dogs barking. Ok, ok, couldn’t resist the bad line.

It was a fascinating day, waking up at a beautiful bed & breakfast in Napa, with the vineyards just a stone throw away. Couple that with drinking by 10 a.m., a generous set of relatives and a delicious lunch at the Mondavi winery (with photos of the main man, himself, at a spry 91 years old), and you have the makings of a great day. Toss in a return to SF to visit Alcatraz and you really can’t ask for more than that.

In just a few hours I return my family to the airport, then spend the next two days enjoying the area for myself before returning to my “home”. Too bad my heart’s here, not there.

We headed south down the pennisula today, to see sunny Monterey and the popular aquarium. The ride along scenic route 1 between Half Moon Bay and Santa Cruz was incredible and worth the additional time, along with the several stops along the way to enjoy the pounding surf and sandy beaches. The photos will no doubt be spectacular. And Santa Cruz still strikes me as a fun town.

On an unrelated note, I keep meaning to start writing more on politics, but it’s been hard to motivate. Despite my strong feelings on the topic.

We arrived yesterday night and (relatively) uneventfully made our way to the hotel. Today we ventured up to Reyes Point to the lighthouse, a thrill for my father whom particularly enjoys that kind of thing. Between the scenery driving and the place itself I tend to believe that the family’s having a good time.

Oh, and getting a room separate from them was definitely the best idea. After a full day, they do drive me a little crazy.

–Originally written June 4, 2004–
As I watch from the 27th floor, people stumble through Shinjuku on their way home, inebriated and happy. I made my way back from Shuzenji to Shinjuku, in an otherwordly daze as I enjoyed the relaxing effects of the onsen.

For dinner this evening, I had a chance to meet up with a friend of mine, Kien, who lives in Yokohama currently finishing his third year in the JET program and aspiring to be a musician. He’s currently feeling his way around the scene in Tokyo, trying to see what happens and whom he’ll meet while he’s here. We met up in Shibuya and went to a funky place called the “Buttu Trick-Café”, where a giant Buddha statue keeps watch over patrons and they eat and consume copious amounts of alcohol. Flushed with three drinks and food (which was ohishii, I might add), I proceeded to become a little giggly around the edges as Kien and I caught up with one another and some of our mutual friends. Sometime after eleven, we split up, heading back to our respective locales along with the throngs of happy Japanese.

Breakfast today at Kikuya followed a pattern similar to last night’s dinner, with many fish or otherwise unknown courses served. I ate several of the dishes, including the udon and multiple helpings of rice. I couldn’t however, bring myself to attempt once again the grilled fish, despite the pride of the staff. The tofu (I hope) I did enjoy, along with a few other dishes I couldn’t provide a name for. My comfort level was also stretched when I saw (and was seen by) a other naked men at the baths. This was an experience the conservative Puritan ethic did not prepare me for, despite years of watching “R” rated movies, and I’m sure that at least some of the red color in my face as from this, and not just the heat. Regardless, the experience was worthwhile and I would recommend it to anyone looking to experience a more traditional aspect of Japanese culture.

Now that I’m leaving, there’s only one item left that concerns me at all. Quite simply, how in the world can you identify the ages of the Japanese, especially the women? To me, many of them whom are likely my elders appear as though they’re fifteen. And the Japanese seem to have no problem at all identifying one another’s ages. This vexes me as I wander around more than I can express.

–Originally written June 3, 2004–
Attempting to experience more traditional aspects of Japanese life, I left the comfy confines of the Tokyo Hilton, where the staff speaks English and serves sausage and bacon for breakfast for Kikuya Ryokan, a traditional Japanese inn and onsen. Like a bed and breakfast in the States, a ryokan provides a more intimate experience. A two hour shinkansen ride from Tokyo station, Kikuya Ryokan in Shuzenji is a hot springs resort where guests can relax in a more traditional, quiet atmosphere.

Greeted warmly by the staff, I was entertained in the waiting area with some Japanese TV (ah, how I really do love watching TV here, even if I only understand at best ten to fifteen words). A young naki brought me to my room, trying her best along the way to explain in English the layout and operating hours of the bathing rooms. Once we arrived in my room, she had me sign the register and served tea and Japanese sweets. Another naki, shortly thereafter, stopped in to bring a yukata (kimono-style robe) in a larger size and informed me of when meals would be served.

Dinner was a multicourse, colorful affair filled with seafood. While I am far from a fan, I did make an attempt to eat certain items. First was a series of cold plates containing sashimi, melon, and a hot soup containing, I believe, a piece of some fish. A very colorful, gelatinous affair containing shrimp and other pieces of crawling critters was also served, along with additional sauces and seasonings. This was followed by miso soup and a grilled river fish, of which I did eat some. Ginger rice and a delightful tofu and black rice dish was also presented. This was combined with some pickled vegetables and topped off with fish and shrimp tempura. Dessert was fruit and ice cream. While everything I ate was oiishi (delicious), the seafood definitely strained by eating capabilities. I did eat some of the fish and nibbled on the tempura, but I couldn’t bring myself to eat the crawlfish. And I can finally tell anyone who attempts to inform me that fish tastes like chicken that they are, in fact, quite wrong, and the two taste nothing at all like one another. Overall, though, the course had a delightful mixture of tastes and textures that my palate was unfamiliar with, all served in the wonderful ambience of a very traditional-style room.

The hot springs bath itself is sugoi! The indoor room is open twenty-four hours a day, and provides an easy atmosphere in which to relax. The open-air baths are open from 7 a.m. to 11 p.m., and the garden by the baths are very beautiful. After a few minutes, it is easy to become light-headed, but this is cured by a relaxing outdoor walk through the gardens outside my window. Outside there is the sound of rushing water from the creek which runs through the building, while cheers of ‘Kampai!’ and the singing from karaoke can be heard from some of the groups here in the banquet rooms. The Japanese I have seen have been friendly, and some of the other guests are amused at the sight of a tall gaijin wandering about. The staff is wonderful, and the naki assigned to watch me is indulgent and friendly, despite the language difficulty.

Perhaps there will be time for another bath before bed.

–Originally written on June 2, 2004–
Asians, I am convinced, are the masters of commerce. Seoul was lively Tuesday night in the street markets, with merchants hawking their wares to large crowds of primarily young Korean women. Shoes, jewelry and Kwon changed hands constantly, while shoppers darted in and out of stores ranging from the local DVD/CD shop to the Tommy Hilfiger and The Body Shop boutiques. The lively markets of Asia simply cannot compete with anything I’ve ever witnessed anywhere else.

Arriving in Tokyo Wednesday afternoon, the anticipated culture shock never materialized. Instead, I was instantly reminded of the melodic nature of the Japanese language and its internal harmony. I watched the sun set over Tokyo from my room on the twenty-second floor before heading out for a brief walk to take the pulse of East Shinjuku, a playground that in some respects seems to rival Las Vegas. Certainly, in terms of brightness they’re on the same wavelength.

Perhaps the most pleasant surprise was the large number of young female office workers still heading home late at night with their male counterparts. While this definitely existed during previous visits, the trend seems to have increased. In truth, many young Japanese women in their mid-twenties have continued working, putting off marriage in many ways even longer than their counterparts in western countries. With marriage and childbirth less common, the average age of Japan’s population continues to increase.

Another indicator of the resurgent economic mood is the P-Index, standing for Prostitution and Pachinko. East Shinjuku was abuzz with men quite literally “pimping their hoes”, and their aggressiveness has increased immensely. Since my last trip here, I can’t recall so many non-Japanese actively soliciting the gaijin. During a fifteen minute walk I likely encountered at least ten different groups actively soliciting. While previous visits had Japanese men in control, the increase in number of gaijin actively soliciting came as quite a surprise. Indeed, perhaps even more impressive than the number of men was the young woman serving in the role of pimp, using English no less. And while the prostitution scene was active outside, the Pachinko parlors looked hopping inside. People are once again happily spending money.