Japan

Eat when with hosts, then fast
I have just left my incredibly generous hosts, and am now in a Nagoya internet cafe in the central city. I was meant to catch a train, but I am so full I am worried that my stomach may explode, which may result in terrorism-related charges. For the last few days, it has been a race to digest one delicious meal as quickly as possible in order to make room for the next. Tonkatsu for lunch, Tempura for dinner,　then a breakfast of salmon, miso soup, rice, sausage, vegetables. Each meal was around the size of a boogie board, with many smaler dishes surrounding it, and try as I might I could not eat as quickly as everyone else. Today I finally arried at the holy grail of Japanese food...the Sushi! Only a few hours after a massive breakfast, I was plied with various kinds of very expensive, very fresh and VERY delicious sushi. I can barely move...Not only that, but upon my leaving I was given practically the entire contents of their fridge, including cakes, biscuits, fruits (they have an orange, super sweet, without seeds at all...WHY DONT WE HAVE THAT?!). I don`t plan to buy another meal for days!

Never watch horror movies relating in any way to the country you are going to
3am last night, and I get up to go to the toilet. With characteristic thoughtfulness, my hosts have laid out a pattern of nightlights leading me to the toilet. As I walk through the dim light, past the beautiful paper walls and Japanese artwork, a memory suddenly surfaces. A memory of hair growing from walls, and dead bodies coming out of cavities making croaky noises. DAMN DAMN DAMN DAMN DAMN!!! Why NOW of all times, did I have to think of the grudge? Luckily I`d already been to the toilet, so I couldn`t wet myself. The previously lovely tatemi mats, shrines, and paper sheets all of a sudden looked excessively grudgey. For the next hour or so I lay there wishing I had bought more amulets and lucky charms from the shrine...

Forget about the traditional method of asking for directions
Traditionally, you ask someone on the corner directions, and they then give you a set of instructions on how t get there. NEVER FOLLOW THIS! After the 7th left turn and 8th right turn, you will be completely lost and most likely in some sort of dangerous ghetto. Rather, I have invented a new form of following directions. I listen to the first 5 seconds, and wach where their hands are pointing. Thereafter, I immediately tune out, and just keep that direction in mind. When they finish the speech `and then you`ll come to a tree that has seven branches, and you turn 270 degrees, and there it is!`, I nod and smile, and follow the first direction they gave me. After walking for a while, I am sure that I wil be closer to it than I originally was, so now I ask a new set of directions from a different person, and once again just follow the first direction they point. Soon, I will be asking for directions just outside the building, and they will give me a funny look. That`s when I know I have arrived!

Alternatively, find a nice local girl who is walking their dog, and chat with her on a pleasant tour around the neighbourhood, which may or may not result in you recognizing your destination as you walk past. It may take me several hours to get anywhere, but I know I am having much happier time than all those tourists walking with their hands down trying to remember whether they were meant to turn left or right at the statue of the cat god and so forth...

Don`t pack shorts
It is official, I am a collectable item. I am THE ONLY PERSON IN THIS ENTIRE COUNTRY who seems to own a pair of shorts. My hairy legs make me even more unique.

The more complex the route, the more fun it will be
Intent on abandoning the boring old bullettrain, I am about to embark on a trip to Kyoto using 3 seperate trains on a lengthly journey winding through the mountainous countryside. I hope the theory works!

I sleep in until 9am, then leave for what turns out to be an immensely complex system of transport.
You see, I was now in a small town near Osaka, some hundreds of kilometres away from my intended destination, Nagoya. But it should be pretty simple to get there before dark, right?

First bus goes from the hotel to Osaka city, which is still about an hour away.
From Osaka, there is no direct train to Nagoya, so I must catch a train to Kyoto, followed by a bus to Nagoya.
At 2pm I arrive in Kyoto, so I stop for lunch. It turns out that it`s still spring here, and the weather is well...springy! Flowers everywhere, and lush green plants growing out of just about everything. The sun shines through the warm air as I wander to and from a 600 year old temple while I wait for the bus. Yep, that`s Japan for you!

The bus leaves at 3pm, but there is a problem. We might be a little late,　it seems. Approximately 1-2 hours late, as a matter of fact. I couldn`t figure out whether the driver was serious or just had an inferiority complex about his driving skills, as the first 2 hours of the trip we positively speed past signs saying things like `Nagoya, 30km away). But those last 30km turn out to be the problem, and we spend an hour and a half waiting in a huge traffic jam on a bridge. I couldn`t have been happier though, the view from the bridge was magnificent! We had passed mountains, country rice fields, ancient temples and beautiful forest, and had now stopped looking over a massive river (about 3-4 times the width of the murray) as the sun set behind us. Who needs the bullet train when you can sit and half a view like that! They didn`t even charge me extra for the nice view...

However, my problem of getting enough of the neccesities of life remained. This time, it was water. I promptly forgot to bring a bottle on the 4 hour bus trip, and assumed I would simply amuse myself with dehydrated hallucinations until we arrived there. I spied a solution however...the toilet at the back of the bus! Not the actual toilet of course, but rather the sink. The sink didn`t agree with my plan of attack however, and was nowhere near big enough to let my head in. It let out only the tiniest dribble of water, no doubt designed to make the person who wants to wash their hands frustrated enough that they foam at the mouth, which they can then use to wash their hands. So here I was, slowly filling my cupped hands up with water, then trying to get that water to my mouth to drink. On the rickety bus, most of the water never made it of course, and I ended up licking my wet hands while my pants and shirt became positively soaked. Eventually we stopped at a rest stop, and I was able to buy a can of Pocari Sweat instead. This charming drink mimics the substance of human body fluids (such as sweat, hence the name), which aparently allows you to absorb it quicker.

So the bus got into Nagoya at about 7pm, and I promptly got lost on the local trains trying to find my way to the station I was meant to meet my friends at. It wasn`t until 8 30pm that I finally arrived at the end of my 10 hour journey,　but it was well worth it.

The people I am staying with are amazing even by the standards of Japanese hospitality.
Most people offer you the bath first, but instead a special bath is run just for my own use so I don`t have to feel guilty about sitting in it for half an hour.
Most people offer you some sort of snack when you get there, but I am positively plied with cakes, tea, biscuits and the like until I can eat no more.
Most people would probably be a bit ticked off if you got there at 9pm, but I can`t even finish an apology or explanation without being cut off and fed something delicious, no matter how many times I try.

When I go to sleep, my room is absolutely stunning. All paper walls and tatami mats, with a futon in the middle and a tray with a bottle of chilled water next to it. It is a veritable japanese castle, with shrines all around it and a wood carving of Mt Fuji cut into the wall.

Beautiful house, beautiful people. This is why I returned to Japan! For those who were wondering whether I had some sort of plan up my sleeve as to what I was doing in Japan, I invented one on the train. After spending all of today walking around the shrines and temples in Nagoya, with towering shrines and flowering bonsais, I have decided to go to Kyoto from here, the Shrine and Temple mecca of Japan.

I thoughjt I`d throw in that I am writing this in the greatest internet cafe in the world. When they told me $5 an hour, I wondered what the Japanese equivalent of `hell no` would be (I have limited funds), but when I go inside I find a paradise... In a private booth on a big leather couch, with an unlimited supply of soft drinks and slushies! Truly heaven...but now I need to go to the toilet!

I can only go on the internet from time to time, so my entries will continue to be published all in one go. I write them in my journal first, and then type them up when I can. Pictures will come next time, I lost the batteries for my camera!

The Jetstar people did end up fixing my flight completely, but used a rather unnerving system of communication and organization.
The man at the check-in: `someone will page you and tell you what to do when you land`

No paging...however, suddenly a man on the plane finds me. I have no idea how he finds me, as there were two people booked for the same seat (maybe there were two seats called 25G?) and being the second one to arrive I just moved to a different seat. This man tells me: `when you land the ground staff will contact you and tell you what to do`.

The plane gets in at eleven o`clock at night. However, during this flight, I had no Australian currency. Before I left, I made sure I spent every last cent, and boarded the plane feeling very proud of myself. When the food cart comes past, I take my Japanese yen out. Whats that? You don`t take Japanese yen? I see...
So having eaten not a single crumb of food since 7am (I did find a crumb on the ground, but resisted the temptation), I landed in the airport and proceeded to try and find who exactly the ground staff were.

Luckily, my case seemed to be extraordinary enough to warrant a person waiting at the door just outside my plane with my name on it. It started to feel like some sort of strange conspiracy, with people everywhere turning up with messages for me - this one was in Japanese and somewhat undecipherable, but it had something to do with me collecting my bags.

I collected my bags and left the baggage claim with my gigantic suitcase pulling my bones apart, only to find that the people who I was meant to talk to were INSIDE the baggage claim, an area that was now sealed off to me by international law. I used my considerable charm to negotiate a solution, and finally gained access to the one who would deliver me the message! I was somewhat disappointed - `catch this bus` he said, pointing in the direction of the bus stop, before melting into the shadows like everyone else I had met so far.

Outside it was a delightfully warm rainy night (I hope rain continues to stay exciting over these next few weeks, the rainy season). I caught the bus, and found out it went to a hotel. When I arrived in the hotel I prayed to god they knew my name, and was determined to sleep in the lobby if they did not. Luckily, they had an urgent fax on the desk with my name printed in big letters (again, the international conspiracy continues), and I was shown into an extraordinarily luxurious room that I could never have afforded by myself. The only problem was, it was now midnight, and nothing in this room was edible (even the mini-bar was empty!). I wandered the halls, looking for some sort of edible mould, when I found my saviour...does that sign say `24 hour convenience store?!`.

MISO! CUP RAMEN! CC LEMON! ONIGIRI! I help myself to a three course meal plus drinks, for the princely sum of $5. Best meal I have ever eaten. A toast...to Japan!