Konichiwa Tokyo, Sayonara Nihon

Arriving in Tokyo, one of the biggest and most populous cities in the world, the prospect of reuniting with my host family after 10 years was daunting to say the least. The excitement at showing Julia around my ‘old hood’ was mostly subdued by my nervousness at meeting up with my host family. My own feelings of inadequacy, especially my grasp (or lack thereof) of the language made for a myriad of emotions. Fortunately my ambivalence was soon quelled as I adopted my tour guide status; leading Julia around, communicating at every encounter and generally working hard to impress and impress upon my beloved the menagerie and sheer behemoth that is Tokyo. 

Quite quickly we realised that despite our gallant optimism, general disregard for reality and the generous week we had afforded ourselves in Tokyo, we simply wouldn’t be able to fit in all that we had planned. It brings me great pain to inform you that at Julia’s behest, Tokyo Disneyland was the first to be removed from our ‘must see’ list.

Drowning our sorrows at the Asahi HQ after realising we couldn't fit Disneyland in :(

The 'Golden Turd' - which is obviously supposed to be the froth of a beer! 

To capture Tokyo for those of you who haven’t visited I can only say that upon reflection it’s a places where 1000 people could visit and all have a different view of the city. That is to say, they could all happen upon or visit different areas, have varying experiences and potentially never visit the same place as the other 999 people. Unlike a city such asParis, or Melbourne for that matter, if one thousand people visited you could nearly stake your hat that most of those one thousand people would visit the Eiffel Tower or Federation Square.

The sprawling metropolis that is Tokyo

We stayed in a funky little apartment not too far from Shibuya, home of the world famous ’scramble’ crossing, but far enough away from the heart so as not to feel like we were being carried along involuntarily by the blistering pace and verve which has long been part of the Tokyo DNA.

Shibuya's famous 'scramble' crossing

Neons, advertising and consumerism - a quintessential Tokyo sight

In essence, our Tokyo stay revolved around two things: sight seeing and reuniting with my host family. For me, meeting up with the Nagaiwa family after 10 long years was quite incredible and very rewarding. Fortunately for all of us, it felt like we’d never left each other’s sides as the flow of conversation was only bettered by the flow of green tea. My host Mum had prepared us a feast and managed to remember my penchant for all things sweet. Sitting around our family dinner table again, where I’d been 10 years earlier - before school, after school, on weekends learning and absorbing as much about Japan as I could possibly fit in - for the first time in my life I had a sense that time itself is really quite arbitrary. A man-made notion of varying meaning and accord - dependent upon the beholder. For Julia, the witness to our reunion, it was an eye opening experience to see how a Japanese family lived, ate and slept. She did a great job of enduring the encounter, smile plastered to her face - face hurting.

What a feast! Thanks very much Okasan (Mum)! Delicious!  

We've all grown up! 

Okasan and Otosan both look so young and healthy!

As far as sightseeing went, a few of the highlights included visiting a cat cafe. Before you ask, no we didn’t eat our feline friends, it’s simply a cafe where you can play with the in-house cats. An apt name, now that the explanation is out of the way. For Julia, it was some reward after much anticipation. For me it was two for the price of one. I was able to visit a cat cafe and also sit and observe my beautiful girlfriend, child-like, rid herself of social norms and frolic around the cafe forcing herself upon our feline friends.

Spot the cats. And Julia if you can find her?

A cat!

For me, another highlight was Tsukiji -  the largest fish market in the world. Over 2000 tonnes of fish are auctioned off daily. With such raw numbers, and fish for that matter, comes a near overwhelming assault on your senses. Walking around Tsukiji at a saunter, in stark contrast to the brisk pace of the shop keepers around us, I couldn’t help but feel like a fly on the wall. For the most part I witnessed the whole thing through my camera lens, trying to capture the countless moments which left me awe stuck, it was a sight to behold and a smell to forget.

So much fish. Fish everywhere!

Incredibly sharp knives!

As a reward for the battering our senses endured we joined a long queue for one of the most famed and revered sushi restaurants at the market, ergo the world. The long wait and frosty conditions didn’t disappoint. We were squeezed in, elbow to elbow, careful not to dislodge the wall hangings. I managed to get my knees under the table exchanging polite glances with my neighbouring patrons. With the chef a short breath away, knife in hand, we began to order what would prove to be one of the best meals of the trip. Quite simply it was the best sushi I’ve ever eaten bar none. The speed at which the chefs cut down a piece of fish into something that, once rested on your plate looked like a piece of art, was truly astounding. Such skill no doubt acquired after much dedication and commitment. Although incredibly busy and working very hard, not to mention with a knife as sharp as a sword, the chef still managed to take our orders and partake in some good quality banter. Interested by our trip, what we had eaten in Hokkaido (a place revered for its seafood) and also curious as to why I was speaking Japanese to him. After the long queue to get into the place, we left feeling like we had been seated in the chefs own kitchen with all the time in the world.

Simply WOWZA!

Food nay, art yes - actually both

At my insistence we squeezed in one final temple stop at Asakusa temple. For me Asakusa is a place I have fond memories of. Fond memories of time spent alone, times of reflection and plenty of time exploring the labyrinthine area. With a plethora of small stalls and eateries, I figured at the very least Julia and I would enjoy one final adventure if not the imposing temple itself. After paying our respects and jostling through the crowd we were stopped by a very cute and eager to learn group of young Japanese students on an English language excursion. With excellent pronunciation and some courage they approached us and asked a variety of questions - all in English. Julia and I, quite impressed and taken aback by their sheer courage, happily obliged and were rewarded with a cute paper crane made by the them also. Buoyed by our experience we stridently advanced towards the exit. That is until we were stopped again by another cute group of school kids. Laughing at the coincidence we again played along and were again impressed by their courage and confidence. We left, another paper crane the richer, and strategically tried to duck and weave so we didn’t get caught again, three times would be pushing it. You guessed it, a third group of kids bailed us up, keen to go through the whole question and answer game again. After completing our third lot of interrogation and worried that we would never leave the temple grounds, we clandestinely snuck around the back of the stalls and managed to get ourselves to relative safety! 

Asakusa temple

We made it out alive and sane!

It’s fair to say that the entire trip itself was as much a learning experience for Julia as it was for me. We experienced Japan in full winter flight. Ate some of the best food of our lives. Shared some of my favourite and most important company in the world and left with eyes and souls full of memories and new experiences. As I write this I can’t help but wonder when, not if, I will return to the country which I consider my second home.

Uh Snow Part 2

In Part 1 of our winters adventure I left both you and I at the ski slopes pondering.

A place to ponder...

I'd also detailed the other part of my dream chasing shenanigans. To visit an outdoor onsen in the snow - ideally with snowing falling. So, after convincing Julia that nothing could be worse than the toils she faced on the slopes, she agreed to join me. As you would expect she had the normal reservations around sharing a public bathhouse. That is to share a bath, in a foreign country, with complete strangers, completely nude.

However, bags packed and under good authority from a local, we headed off out of town to the 'best' outdoor onsen in the region. Our trip involved multiple buses, and narrow, windy roads completely covered white with snow. The road wasn't the only thing that was white as my knuckles turned white while I held on as we headed up the treacherous white mountain roads. If you're having trouble coming to grips, pun intended, with my excessive use of the word 'white' then don't read this: our bus was also full of white haired elderly Japanese men and woman all eager onsen goers themselves. They seemed to be as excited about the onsen as they were about the presence of us; two, young, foreigners, one of whom spoke Japanese. 

Note the height of the snow compared to the bus stop. It was so cold waiting for the bus we literally walked in circles for 20 minutes just to stay warm.

For our toils and at their insistence they gave us some sweets and chaperoned us for the remainder of the journey until we all arrived at the onsen. Alighting the bus, the snow was falling heavily and the distraction of the frightening but hilarious journey vanished as I realised that if we could get inside in time, while it was still snowing, my dream might just come true.

After a windy and scary bus ride we made it!

After one failed attempt upon realising we'd forgotten towels, we bid each other farewell and I wished Julia good luck. I raced in, washed myself thoroughly as is customary and made my way to the snow covered bathing area. Stark naked, I can attest that walking outside in the snow with temperatures well below minus 10 literally hurts you all over. In sensitive areas you never imagined would see such harsh conditions. I must have looked like Golum from Lord Of The Rings as I scampered around the edge of the rocks until I entered. 

Either the door to freezing cold or to steaming hot

The sheer pain of the bitter cold only sped me along as I experienced the inevitable, truly superlative feeling of submerging yourself into the natural and piping hot waters of the baths. I sat there and for the second time in a week simply felt like I was living the dream. With the snow falling around me, and on me too, my wet hair literally started to freeze which was ironically analogous to the awesome memories which I knew would be frozen into my mind and ones I'll never forget. But beyond the scope of my poor literary exploits, all I can say is put a winter onsen experience on the top of your list. 

One of the most superlative experiences of my life.

After a successful week at the snow fields Julia and I headed to Sapporo for the world famous snow festival. Many of you will know 'Sapporo' simply as an excellent Japanese beer.  But the snow festival has arguably the same level of acclaim as their popular beer. The snow festival was another (thanks again Julia) event that I'd been keen to see ever since my exchange in Japan. I also knew that Julia would love it too and was keen for her to experience the hype of a Japanese festival. 

Julia rugged up and looking like a Polish Grandma.

Isn't she beautiful! 

My jeans are now ass-less. At least the next person had some denim to sit on.

Bizarly none of the cars had chains. 

The simply stunning Sapporo Beer Factory.

Upon entering the 'ice bar,' Julia asks, genuinely, whether it will be warm inside. No Julia, it'll be freezing cold. Literally.

Sculptors from all over the world converge on the city to build ice and snow sculptures well over 10 metres high. The city itself is picturesque with a park that runs down the middle of the city. The park and it's excellent location provide an stunning back drop for the festival. Walking the length of the park at both day and night, marvelling  at the extreme skill of the artists it really was an awe inspiring event. One which pictures will do more justice than my words. 

This shot was taken at roughly 8:21. 

Over 15m high. Wow!

The ice festival is held along the picturesque park that runs through the middle of the city.

If the ice sculptures weren't enough proof then there, it was bloody bloody freezing!

Conveniently Sapporo is renowned for its miso ramen or Japanese noodle soup with a miso base. To negate the cruel wintery conditions we warmed ourselves aplenty with numerous helpings of the delicious soup. 

A whole street filled with ramen shops. A great anti-dote to the cold.

The most satisfying ramen I've ever had.

Sapporo, and broadly Hokkaido, is quite highly regarded throughout Japan as a gastronomic destination. Specifically their seafood is sublime and amongst the best in all of Japan. Geographically Hokkaido is surrounded by seas which are much less pillaged than in other areas, improving the quality of the seafood which is caught.  

With that in mind Julia and I headed off to their seafood market and bravely ordered a sushi platter for breakfast. We'd stumbled upon a 'nook and cranny' type sushi restaurant where there was only seating for 3 customers. Conveniently Julia had read about the restaurant somewhere but initially had no intention to go. As we'd merely stumbled upon it, we couldn't pass up the opportunity to try some of their famed seafood in such a unique setting. 

As you can imagine with only 3 customers and the chef standing directly in front of you preparing your food, banter was as plentiful as the large portions of glistening, perfectly prepared sushi. The kick of freshly grated wasabi root was as welcoming as the piping hot green tea we were offered too. We left, budget intact, having consumed some of the freshest most delectably simple yet mouth watering sushi we will ever have the chance to eat. Japan had done it again.

This sushi restaurant only serves 3 customers at a time!

Chef preparing the sushi directly in front of you.

What's that Julia, your feet are getting cold? Here, try these feet warmers.

Why thank you Jay.

Oooh, ahh, Osaka

We took a day trip to Osaka.

Jay was especially excited because it meant that we'd be travelling on the Shinkansen (bullet train). He was almost as excited as when he bought donuts from his all-time favourite Japanese donut chain, Mister Donuts, but not quite.

Reunited with Mister Donuts after a 10 year hiatus - get in my belly!

The Shinkansen, which can travel up to 320 km/hr, got us from Kyoto to Osaka in....wait for it....15 minutes. That's a distance of 47km. Or roughly from Melbourne to Avalon airport. I won't bother working out the math of that, but suffice to say that's mighty impressive. Especially since earlier that day it had taken us 45 minutes to travel 7 km from our accommodation to Kyoto train station*.

Faster than a speeding bullet....it's the Shinkansen...whoosh

Osaka itself was a buzzing metropolis of a city. Jay had loosely described it as Melbourne-esque in character - trendy and quirky with a bit of an edge. And to some extent it was. Only to me it was less laid back and chilled and more like a hyperactive teenager; loud and eccentric, but only because it's excited about life and is ready to test its limits. There was all sorts of yelling urging people to eat at various restaurants; Osakians, young and old, were wearing the most bizarre combinations of outfits; and giant billboards with novelty sized objects surrounded us. You really felt like your senses were being bombarded. Or perhaps it all seemed more chaotic than what it actually was compared to the relative order and serenity we'd experienced in Kyoto. Regardless, we threw ourselves into the excitement of Osaka, and headed straight for Dotonbori, one of the city's main food strips.

The acclaimed food strip that is Dotonbori.

One of Osaka's claims to fame are tako-yaki, balls of batter filled most commonly with seafood. Being an Osakan specialty, we had to try them.

Tako-yaki in the making

In order for you to gauge how they tasted, I'll provide you with the following description. Imagine a golden-brown, delectable looking ball. It's so delectable looking that you decide to put the whole thing into your mouth in one go. Excited to taste it, you bite into the ball vehemently, forgetting that it's actually steaming hot. A gush of scorching, liquid, fishy-tasting goodness/wickedness explodes into your mouth, burning the inside of your oral cavity in the process. You practice more caution with subsequent bites, which are pretty much a repeat of the previous sensations, only there's less mouth-scalding involved. If that all sounds appetising to you, then you'll be in for a treat with tako-yaki. If not, then perhaps you should skip the experience**.

Me, prior to trying tako-yaki. Unfortunately I wasn't so smiley after tasting them.

But Osaka wasn't all about loud noises and outrageous food. There were more tranquil areas we visited too, including the Sumiyoshi Taisha shrine and Osaka Castle. The significance of this shrine was that its architectural style preceded the influence of Chinese Buddhist styles seen in other parts of the country. The shrine also dates back to the 3rd century. 

The picturesque bridge leading up to the shrine

An example of 3rd century architecture

Osaka Castle in particular was breathtaking. With its surrounding moat, luminescent white colour and gold trimmings, it glowed with extravagance against the wintry grey setting. I felt like I'd stepped onto the set of a fairytale.

Isn't she beautiful?

We finished our day by having dinner with Jay's former host dad, otosan (father). Otosan, wanting to treat us on this special occasion, took us to a restaurant and ordered very generously, including a large assortment of sashimi***. In Japan, sashimi is not a thin piece of fish served on top of a portion of rice. Instead, it is expertly cut slices of raw fish, taken from the best parts of the fish, served to you on a plate, without the rice. The pieces are so delicate that they almost melt in your mouth.

It was a terrific night of catching up on the past ten years and enjoying some great food and drink together. It was really lovely meeting otosan too as I'd heard lots about him and his family from stories Jay told me previously. A fantastic end to our day in Osaka!

Otosan and us at the restaurant

* We now have a bit of a running joke every time something takes a lot longer than expected to happen (i.e. when we are lost and can't find a train station/shop/restaurant). We now say 'We could've been in Osaka by now.' It's quite funny.

** I should reiterate that the tako-yaki we tried were fish ones. Meat ones could be better.

*** Although strict vegetarians at home, in Japan we've been eating fish - it's a surprisingly difficult country to be strictly vegetarian in

Volare Italia!

As backpackers the two biggest threats we most commonly face are: managing a shoe string budget – pretty self explanatory. The second more clandestine threat we face is inflated expectations. Expectations, especially disproportionate ones, are silent killers. They fester and multiply until finally reaching a zenith and then with all their destructive might shatter your hyperbolic expectations. Luckily for us, Italy lived up to our inflated expectations.

Arriving in Milan, the fashion capital of the world, I felt quite out of place in my tainted jeans, worn hiking boots and cumbersome pack. But I shouldn't bore you with my own feelings of low self esteem. On the contrast, Italians definitely know how to dress and Milan lives up to its fashion capital hype. There wasn't a feeling of superficiality, but instead classiness and being comfortable and confident in the clothes you were wearing. 

Good food and great company!

Evidently another thing Italians do quite well is cook. From our very first meal until our final meal one month later I can honestly tell you that we looked forward to each and every meal. So much so that after our first day of eating Italian cuisine we felt compelled to embark on a daily mantra. This involved, for the duration of our 30 days in Italy, consuming; gelati, vino (wine) and coffee everyday. We also added a musical element to our heavily food focused pact: that Julia would bust out the song Volare everyday too. Julia took this task very seriously and on an occasion when I attempted my own rendition I was quickly chastised and reminded that it was her job to sing Volare...

My daily espresso shot - by the look on my face I needed it!

Julia eat your heart out!

When we arrived in Italy we knew we were in for a culinary delight of gastronomic proportions. But we still found ourselves constantly awe inspired by the quality of the food we were served. Italy is very region-centric. Each region is famous and proudly home to certain food specialities. For example the humble town of Norcia is so adept at producing small goods such as salami and prosciutto that an accomplished butcher in Italy is referred to as a norcino.

The local mayor.

Under no illusion that we were on the food journey of a lifetime we quickly found ourselves in Bologna, considered the culinary capital of Italy. Bologna is the infamous home of bolognese. They are also proudly home of tortellini and tortelloni. There is no need for me to wax lyrical about the superlative food we consumed:

The infamous BOLOGNESE!

Caprese salad with bufala to die for!

Fish carpaccio.

Fresh homemade ravioli with burnt butter and sage.

Aside from the food, there still is an obligation to see some of the many tourist attractions that each towns thrusts upon you. And I'm sure you wont be surprised to hear that Julia was overwhelmed with joy when she heard that Verona featured the alleged home of Juliet Capulet - of Romeo and Juliet fame. Just to make things clear R&J is a mythical and fictional story that Shakespeare wrote 4/5 centuries ago. So off we went to this alleged home of the fictional character Juliet. Scepticism doesn’t even come into it. There is absolutely no merit or fact behind the tenuous claim that this house was that of a Juliet. It really is no different to visiting an old castle in the Scottish country side that claims to be Hogwarts. Anyway, we arrived to more fanfare than one could barely imagine. Now I'm a firm believer in women's rights and equality leading to stronger and happier societies. However, unfortunately for women as a species, the scene being played out before me lived up to almost any negative stereotype I'd ever heard. Women being pictured flicking their hair about standing on a nondescript balcony - allegedly Juliet's. Others muscling amongst each another to be photographed cupping the breast of a Juliet statue. May I remind you Juliet is a fictional character. Teenage girls scribing their love for their own loves on a wall covered in permanent marker. It was literally a menagerie, minus the herds of animals.

AMAZING!

'Julia and J.' Genuine coincidence, quite bizarre!

My Juliet or more correctly Julia.

WOW, AMAZING!

Our next stop was the old canal city of Venice. A labyrinthine network of interconnecting canals where boats and gondolas supplant cars. One of the best things to do in Venice is turf the map that the tourist office gives you and literally just get lost in all the fascinating back streets. Despite its obvious drawback as overly touristy, once you get lost and are brushing shoulder to shoulder with kids coming home from school or mothers taking the washing out, Venice is a great and unique city. After disembarking the water taxi we were happy to be back on solid ground. Shortly after, in a small square cum outdoor market, our senses were drowning in the intense seafood aromas, glistening scales of freshly prepared fish and the furious slashing of fishmonger's paring knifes. Reluctantly we left the market for the allure of the endless lane ways. After a few hours of walking and with the memories from the market still etched in our minds our appetites would not relent. So, we settled at a nondescript restaurant on the canal edge. There we consumed a typical Venetian meal of fish, pasta and frankly any water dwelling creature. The meal took an unexpected turn when Julia became quite emotional, declaring an epiphany – that she was in love with mussels.

The beginning of the end of Julia and I's romance?

It's fair to say a trip to Italy isn't complete without a trip too see its most famous citizen David. We joined the hoards of tourists, nervous at our meeting with David. For me it was like meeting somebody famous. You have seen them countless times and begin to feel like you know them. Only to find that they and especially you are complete strangers. Our experience meeting David was pretty much the same. Anyway, you have to meet him in person for yourself so I'll only offer a glimpse.

David.

Florence was a great city with many famous and culturally important attractions. Again I won't bore you with details. Only to say that unfortunately we will remember it for its lacking sewage system. Frankly the whole town reeks of shit. After consulting with my plumber brother, the sewage system is just simply too antique. Hence a frequent waft and strong stench of excrement stalks you as you navigate the city.

As the saying goes, all goods things come to end and our countless days of gluttony came to an abrupt albeit stunning end when we arrived in Cinque Terre. Situated along the Italian coastline, the undulating and picturesque terrain was graciously interrupted by centuries old vineyards. The intercontinental Mediterranean sea to our right and the fertile vineyards to the left it truly was a pleasure and the pain of the sharp ascents was quickly alleviated by the consistently stunning vistas. The day was capped off by a sounds-better-than-it-was meal of lobster with fresh pasta. Did I mention the post hike obligatory sun baking and swim in the Mediterranean? Oops just reached my word lim..!

Oh What a Feeling - PISA!

It was MUCH heavier than I made it look!