Japanory

A Testing Day...

4^th January 2007

 

  

Mum’s flying back to the UK today and we are due to go to the Driving Test Centre to get our Japanese driving licenses sorted out.

 

 

Two cars are coming to collect us, one to take Mum to Narita Airport and one to take me, Tim and Rhiannon to the test centre. Both cars are due at the same time, 8 o’clock in the morning.  With our lack of language skills, the potential for a comedic outcome is very high. Can you imagine the confusion? What if Mum gets in the wrong car and ends up at the license centre?!

 

 

Luckily, it all worked out just fine with the car taking Mum to the airport arriving first. Of course, it was sad waving goodbye to her but she’ll be back again in just a few months for Easter. She’s a great traveller, my Mum, and spends her year travelling to remote areas on botanical trips, hunting rare flowers and then committing them to paper: she’s a recognised and successful botanical artist. Not bad for a lady in her seventies!

  

  

 

 

So, on to our adventure at the Japanese driving centre...

  

 

 

This was something Tim sprung on me at the last minute so I had no idea what to expect. Mind you, neither did he, so we were both entering the arena blind. The plan was that our driver, loaned by Tim’s work, was to accompany us in to help with translations and other necessary guidance.

  

 

 

With plenty of books and colouring-in paraphernalia to keep Rhiannon occupied, we nervously set off. Personally, I was more nervous of how Rhiannon was going to react to a lot of waiting, which was the only thing we’d been warned about. However, she was remarkably good, which made a change!

  

 

 

We arrived at the centre at about 8.30am and discovered there was absolutely nowhere for our driver to park. So we ended up sending him back and entered the unknown realm alone and apprehensive. Not only that, but we would have to find our way back again on public transport which was a daunting prospect – but that was after the first trial – getting through the licensing procedures unaccompanied.

  

 

 

The building reminded me of a school; cavernous, painted an institutional beige with rooms, corridors and doors everywhere. Various young people wandered around like lost souls so we joined them in our search for the correct place to start.  

  

 

 

With great relief we found the route to the “Foreigners” area was signposted in English. Our first port of call was a small window half hidden in a corner where we handed over various items of paperwork to a stern woman to deal with. And then sat and waited. And waited some more. This was the main theme of the morning.

  

 

 

Suddenly another couple of gaijin arrived from a different direction. They’d already been through this process so I pounced and grilled the poor people on what happens next. I do like to be prepared, and thankfully they were extremely helpful and explained what precisely would happen amidst the waiting.

 

They told us that we would have to take a sight test and explained what this involved, which was very useful.

  

Being British, we wouldn’t have to take the practical driving test, thank goodness! This is reserved for those foreigners who drive on the right: Japan drives on the left (hooray!), so makes it so much easier for us Brits to convert our license.

  

 

 

Our names were called and we were directed to another department on a different floor in order to pay our fees, then return to the same window again. After some more waiting, we were sent for our sight test.

  

 

 

A large room in yet another part of the building was the setting for this. Our spirits sank at the sight of a long queue of people snaked along the corridor, but the process was remarkably quick.

  

We reached an inspector with a grim and bored expression on his face. He was sat in front of a large grey machine. I went first and sign language was the order of the day. Translation:

Inspector: “Do you wear glasses or contact lenses?”

Me: “Yes”

Inspector: “Read this” and thrust a laminated A4 sheet at me which showed how to do the eye test. I was given very little time to read it before he snatched it away again, but luckily I can speed read so understood what was expected of me.

  

There were several circles with segments missing and I had to show which side of the circle the gap was. (See the picture for a visual explanation). There was also to be a colour test; primary colours to be identified. Easy!

  

 

The sight test commenced with me looking through binoculars attached to the grey machine. A screen lit up with a circle on the top right. I had to wave my arms to show which position the missing segment was on. The circles bounced around the screen getting progressively smaller and smaller. Fun! The colour test was a breeze as the inspector had obviously learnt the English for red, blue and yellow. Again, coloured lights were flashed up on the screen and I just had to state the colour.

  

 

 

I passed!

  

 

 

Then it was Tim’s turn... Hah! He didn’t read the document fast enough and went a bit Basil Fawlty, raising his voice a little too much. Besides, I think it was time for the inspector’s break as he was getting a little fed up by now so there seemed to be some misunderstandings along the way.

  

Translation:

Inspector: probably thinking, “oh no, not another gaijin” “Do you wear glasses or contact lenses?”

Tim: “HUH?”

Inspector: “DO YOU WEAR GLASSES OR CONTACT LENSES?”

Tim: “YES!”

Inspector: “HUH? DO. YOU. WEAR. GLASSES. OR. CONTACT. LENSES???”                    

Tim: “YES, I. WEAR. CONTACT. LENS” pointing to one of his eyes (he wears lenses in both eyes, by the way).

Inspector: rolling his eyes now, handed Tim an eyepiece to cover the one eye he’d pointed to... obviously thinking Tim wore just one contact lens! So Tim had to do the sight test with one eye.

 

 

  

The colour test was even funnier. For some reason best known to himself Tim thought the colours were traffic light colours, so instead of saying “blue” he kept saying “green”! By this time the inspector was visibly annoyed and possibly about to fail him, so between my giggles I whispered to Tim, “It’s blue, you twit!”...

  

 

 

Eventually, he passed too.

  

 

 

Time for a break... so we went for a can of vending machine coffee and a cigarette to recover before the next bout.

  

 

 

Now we had to get a photograph taken as the ones we’d brought with us were unsuitable for some reason. So off we went to yet another room for our pictures to be taken, and then to another place so we could stamp them out to the right size. And back to “our window” once more for some more waiting.

  

 

 

Oh, at some point we also had to watch a video about safe driving, but as we couldn’t understand a word of it, we took the opportunity to have some more coffee and a snack.

  

 

 

Finally, at 12.30pm we were finished and left the building clutching our brand new Japanese driving licenses. What an interesting morning!

  

 

 

Finding our way home was a little tricky as we had only vague directions in Japanese to get to the train station, but obviously we made it.

 

 

 

I wonder if and when we will get a car? It will make life so much easier.

 

 

New Year's Eve 2006

Since becoming parents, we hadn't really bothered with the whole New Year thing in the UK and usually just watched a bit of TV then went to bed. Both of us had done plenty of partying in the past, so didn't miss it at all. Personally, I find New Year's Eve a rather emotional event for some reason, and nowadays just treat it as a normal evening.

But, for our first New Year's Eve in Japan we thought we really ought to do something special.

However, we weren't entirely sure precisely what to do, bearing in mind we had a 5 year old child to include, as well as my Mum...

At the time, we had no idea on the significance and tradition of this special day in Japan so were only basing our expectations on the UK celebrations.

Our options seemed to be one of two things: either visit a shrine along with several thousand Tokyoites or spend the evening at the work bar, where a special evening had been planned for the first time as a number of new people had just arrived.

Tim and I spent a couple of days researching our options: I talked to the young blue-haired lad in the conbeni - corner shop - who proved to be an asset as he spoke a little English and was eager to chat whenever I popped in for milk. Tim spoke to his colleagues at work.

While some couples were off to see what happened at a shrine, my conbeni friend said an emphatic "no" to this when I mentioned it to him. I think because he'd seen Rhiannon and was worried she'd be crushed by the crowds. Further questioning discovered that all the shrine-goers throw coins a long distance, so, in the position of caring parents, we decided to take his advice and not go. This left the work 'do', so that is where we ended up.

What a strange evening that was!

A few people, none of whom knew each other, sat in a soulless bar clutching drinks tried to make small-talk above the sound of some random music, while an overtired, but excited 5 year old ran around trying unsuccessfully to find something to do.

Accutely aware of being in a bar with my Mother for the first time, I was unable to relax as I felt I should keep an eye on her. Apart from the weirdness the actual fact engendered, New Year's Eve has always been a very poignant time as something had happened the New Year's Eve shortly before Dad died - it seems he'd had a premonition that it was to be his last New Year on earth and photos of the event show a scared man looking at the camera. Very painful.

So, we edgily sipped champagne, watched the clock until it said midnight, kissed each other and headed off home, expecting to see and hear fireworks and crowds of people.

But nothing! No fireworks, no people, no singing or shouting, no drunken louts lying in gutters or staggering along the street, no pools of vomit everywhere, nothing!

The whole journey home was a quiet as the grave, not a soul to be seen. This was my first sense of culture shock, it was just so incredibly different, yet pleasantly so.

Yoyogi - Park and People

31st December 2006

The year's end! What a lot of changes 2006 has brought to our family; we look back with pleasure and forward with excitement.

We choose today to visit one of the largest parks in Tokyo, Yoyogi Koen, not realising that Sunday is THE best day to visit as it's the day everyone comes out to show themselves off. A wealth of fascinating sights greeted us the moment we arrived at Harajuku.

The area around Harajuku Station is swarming with wonderful specimens of high fashion - Japanese style. These young ladies and gentlemen dress to kill in all manner of (to us Westerners) very odd outfits. It appears they are there purely to pose and have their photos taken by random passing folk. Some cameras on display appeared to be press-quality so perhaps some of the pictures will appear in some magazines or books. Who knows?

We saw so many interesting people, with such hard-to-define styles that I couldn't resist photographing a few of them. Some I recognised as the famous Harajuku Lolitas and Gothic Lolitas. Others were harder to label, such as one chap with a silver bandage across his face: but all were beautiful and colourful. Another hopeful young man held up a sign offering "Free Hugs", although I didn't see anyone take up this kind suggestion. Girls dressed as Alice in Wonderland or Little Bo Peep were everywhere mixed with slinky Goths and various characters I've since discovered are known as Cos-Play.

Rhiannon was keen to get away from the bustling crowds so she could try out her new roller blades, so we didn't stop very long in that area.

However, we were distracted by another of the famous Yoyogi sights: the Elvis people! On the walkwayto Yoyogi Park a cordoned off area was utilised by a number of people dressed in 1950's garb and rockin' and rollin' to their hearts content. The guys were dressed in leather, winkle-picker boots and greased black hair with gravity-defying quiffs, while the few girls in attendance had full poodle-skirts and ponytails. While in the UK, this "show" would be put on as a method of asking for money, here it appears to be done purely for pleasure, and it was a pleasure to watch too. A number of souped up and highly decorated vans lined the road, so I can assume these people arrived in suitable style, accompanied by their high-quality, loud sound-systems.

Finally we made it into the park itself, but the sights and sounds didn't diminish at all. Everywhere we looked we saw something unusual going on, from small groups of people practising dance moves to individuals juggling, people going through martial arts moves and others playing instruments. They show no self-consciousness at all, incredible.

The hypnotic beat of bongos floated through the air. Drawn by the haunting sound, I followed my ears and tracked down a gang of people 'losing themselves in the rhythm' with attending dancing girl. Being a great fan of this type of music, I could have stayed for hours, but family were urging me on once again.

A couple of grimy oblong ponds held little interest but in the distance we spotted a dancing fountain in the middle of a larger, more natural looking lake, so we heading in that direction grabbing some vending machine drinks on the way. We sat for a while watching the changing projection of the water spout while Rhiannon wobbled precariously on her new skates.

Then we saw a man walking around balancing a glass ball on his head. As you do! 

We decided we'd seen it all now and headed back to the Metro.

As it was New Year's Eve, the most important holiday for the Japanese, numerous stalls had been set up along the roadsides selling all manner of foods, most of which were, as usual, totally unrecognisable. Rhiannon followed her sweet-attuned nose to a stall selling chocolate covered bananas on sticks. How could we refuse? They tasted gorgeous and were far more appetising that some of the octopus kebabs we noticed.

Foot-sore and mind-boggled, we went home to ponder what to do for our New Year's Evening.

Day Trip to Kamakura - part 3

Next stop was the Hase Kannon Temple, covering a large area with little gardens and many different shrines to various kami, or gods. We climbed up the steep steps to the top of the hill where the main buildings were located.

On the way up, we spotted thousands of tiny statues dressed in little cloaks or clothes and surround by childrens' toys. These are symbols of of the deity Jizo, the guardian of children and commemorate stillborn children. A very moving sight indeed.

Once at the top, we found a terrace with a fantastic view over Kamakura and a welcome cafe selling coffee and snacks. We also were amazed to see lots of black birds of prey swooping overhead. Of course, none of us had binoculars and, although the birds were close, we couldn't identify them.

The temple buildings are magnificent, with ornately decorated rooves and many ornamental carvings. 

Back down the hill again and an exploration of the lower levels. Rhiannon has a 'thing' about Koi, and sits next to the water singing to them! This has to be done without anyone watching, so we maintain a discreet distance while she entertains the fish, who seem to rather enjoy the attention. Or perhaps they were hoping for food as they all came up to her and gathered in a mass of orange and white at her feet.

We also found a cave-temple, indicated by the special red torii gate. According to the English guide leaflet, this. along with a wooden building outside, was a temple to the goddess of feminine beauty and wealth, Benten. Of course, I felt the need to go and pay my respects so in we all went.

The cave was hewn surprisingly deep into the cliff and the one-way route through was dotted with small candlelit alcoves enclosing various sculptures. After a while, the ceiling got lower and lower and I suddenly realised Mum was not looking too good. Almost too late, I remembered she was claustrophobic when in caves (about the only thing that she is scared of!) and swiftly ushered her out into the air again. I felt very guilty for encouraging her in there, but she recovered quickly. I hope we were in there long enough for the 'feminine beauty and wealth' influence to work.

We were pretty much done with temples and shrines by now, so decided to wander back through the town and see what goodies the shops held: a great cure for the little panic we'd just had.

Kamakura is famous for a special brand of lacquerware, which is painted a dull red. It isn't to my taste really; I prefer the shiny black lacquer.

However, we did find a little souvenir shop that was crammed full of all kinds of items, large and small. Mum fell in love with a large, kimono-attired doll carrying a branch of wisteria over her shoulder. The wisteria was a gentle buff colour, and the kimono a dazzling red and gold. Expressing her interest to the shop-keeper prompted a loud shout out to someone in the back of the shop. The shop-keeper's husband appeared and an animated conversation between them ensued, then the husband scuttled off out the door.

We were extremely puzzled, not having any idea what was going on and with mum only wanting the doll off the shelf. However, all soon became clear as the husband returned after 10 minutes with a new doll in a box. This doll was similar, but the wisteria was a virulent purple, rather than the faded beige on the shelf-dweller. It clashed terribly with the kimono and Mum insisted on the original. The owners couldn't believe it, and kept insisting that she take the new one. At least, that's what we think was being said. Naturally, the customer is always right and Mum was amazed that they insisted on reducing the price by about a third. A great deal, and a lovely souvenir that now graces prime position in Mum's home.

Tired, yet happy with our real day out, we headed home to digest all the sights we'd seen. My favourite of which was seen on the way back to the station... a small, extremely noisy motorbike that appeared to be homemade. It was very square, looked most uncomfortable and was painted bright orange.

It was also emblazoned with the name "The Nutcracker"! It looked to be an accurate name.

Day Trip to Kamakura - part 2

Wandering up tiny streets lined with atmospheric wooden buildings and many little shops, we came across some little rail tracks leading up the road. Instantly my mind went back countless years to my childhood visits to Weymouth, the hometown of my Dad's side of the family, and the old tramlines criss-crossing the area.

Almost immediately, we heard a noise and quickly jumped out the way as a little tram, or narrow-guage train trundled by pulling two or three quaint wooden carriages. Wish we'd caught that instead of making our ill-conceived long walk.

We followed its route and soon found ourselves at the first of the many temples situated here. Kamakura is home to 65 Buddhist temples and 19 Shinto shrines... far too many to visit in one day, but the one we stumbled across was probably the most famous in the area.

Kotokuin Temple is the home to the second largest statue of Buddha in Japan. Standing, or rather sitting, at 13.35 metres high, this bronze statue meditates in beautiful surroundings, flanked by iron lotus flowers. Nearby, a gigantic pair of straw sandals hung on a wall; in case he decides to take a walk, perhaps? He was cast in the 13th century and used to live in a enormous wooden building until a tsunami swept through Kamakura and flattened the entire area just over a hundred years later. Buddha remained where he sat and has stayed gazing out to sea ever since.

After looking around the temple we discovered we could actually go inside the statue for the minimal cost of just 20 yen. Up some stairs Rhiannon really enjoyed this and joyfully repeated the excerise a number of times. "His tummy is warm inside" she stated, as an explanation for her fascination. Warmed by the sun, the bronze gave off a comforting heat.

Stalls selling charms and amulets lined the grounds and some of the 'wishes' were translated into English as Kamakura is a tourist area. We were intrigued to see the labels: "please grant my exam success", "a charm to protect when driving" and most bewildering, "please make my leg grow stronger"! I think most people buy these to hang from their mobile phones. Many a time I have seen fashionable young people haul a mobile out of their bag that is absolutely dripping with hundreds of charms. They must make the phones very heavy.

Day Trip to Kamakura - part 1

Boxing Day dawned bright, crisp and sunny, encouraging us to decide to make a 'proper' day trip somewhere.

We decide to venture to Kamakura, a small town about 50km south of Tokyo with a long history and many ancient temples. Situated on the coast of the Pacific Ocean, Kamakura was once the capital of Japan during the eponymous Kamakura era, from 1185 to 1333.

We set off to the Metro, our route all planned from our guidebooks. Catch the Metro to Shibuya, find the correct platform for an overground train to another station, change lines somewhere a long way outside of Tokyo, then a final train to Kamakura. Quite daunting really, especially with the lack of English language signs at the stations.

But amazingly, we made it without a hitch! We felt very proud of ourselves as we stepped out of the station at Kamakura, ready for a day exploring old streets and numerous Buddhist temples.

Pacific Ocean! What does that conjure up for you? For me, it brings to mind images of warm, blue seas and exotic palms lining soft, white sandy beaches.

Now picture the complete opposite. Firstly, the weather in Kamakura was cold. Very cold. And windy. Secondly, we couldn't see the sea anywhere. Or anything much else either. There was a long, wide road outside the station bordered by pretty much nothing! We looked around for a tourist office, map or anything that would tell us which way to go, but found nothing. Using the old adage that downhill was the way to go to find the sea, we set off in that direction, huddling into our coats and wishing we'd worn hats, scarves and gloves.

After walking for about half an hour, we all started to get rather fed up: we still hadn't seen anything worth travelling all that way for; no signs to give us any indication of where these famous sites were, no shops or restaurants where we could stop to trya and ask directions, and still no sign of the sea! We'd also gone a little too far to turn back and try the other exit from the station - which, in retrospect, is where the initial problem started - we'd exited on the wrong side.

So we continued plodding down the road, cold and grumpy, when suddenly we scented the sea and felt sand being blasted into our faces with the strong gusts of wind. Finally, the sea was seen. Not the blue, calm waters I envisioned, but angry, grey, squally and with many 'white horses' showing their manes in the surf.

Now what? There were still no signposts to be seen anywhere and we hadn't come all this way just to be exfoliated by the extremely bracing sea air. Just in time to prevent a mutiny, we spotted a restaurant and made our way inside. I use the term 'restaurant' loosely here as it was more of a 'diner' with formica tables and uncomfortable chairs. But it was inside, warm and promised some kind of food and respite from the elements.

A waitress brought over the menus and thankfully for us, we discovered something common in eateries here that is very useful to us non-Japanese readers / speakers; all the dishes are pictured. So, although we have no idea what they contain, we can get an idea of the item from the photo and just point to our choices. We ordered hot drinks and food and recovered from the cold while debating what to do next.

Fortunately, the cafe had windows all around so we could get a rough idea of the lay of the land and made the decision to head "that way". Thankfully, it proved the correct direction and we shortly ended up in the actual town of Kamakura, rather than its unprepossessing suburbs.

IT'S CHRIIIISTMAASSSSSS!!!

Our first Christmas in Tokyo started early, as can be expected with an over-excited 5 year old.

But not with the happy sounds one would normally hear. Rhiannon marched into our room at 5.30am, crying her eyes out!

Between her sobbing she cried "Santa hasn't been to see me and I have been good, mostly". 

Bless her, she was so bleary that she'd stepped right over her stocking without noticing it. So I took her back to her room to "see if Santa had hidden it" (rather amazed I was on the ball at that time in the morning...)

Cue one very happy child!

After breakfast, the doorbell rang. We'd forgotten that it was a normal working day here, and the postman was delivering. Along with a number of Christmas cards, he brought a large and heavy parcel from Tim.

How wonderful! He'd got me a breadmaker!! Now, this isn't normally something I would get happy about receiving for Christmas, and ordinarily would contribute to considering divorce proceedings. But bread here tastes horrible and costs around £3 for half a dozen slices, so it was a welcome gift.

This was a well-travelled breadmaker apparently. It was ordered from the States as the electricity here is only 100V rather than the 240V in the UK (which is why I hadn't shipped mine from there). American electrical goods work here, whereas UK machines need a huge, clumsy transformer. But I digress: the breadmaker had travelled to Jamaica (a computer operator error, I guess, as Jamaica is just above Japan on the standard list of countries), then back to Kentucky and then up the coast to Alaska where it got stuck in a snowstorm. But fortuitously arrived on Christmas Day.

Lunch was a success. Apart from the lack of Christmas pudding and the fact that the mysterious "cakes" I'd brought were completely disgusting! I think they were made from rice and contained red-bean paste. An acquired taste, that none of us will acquire any time soon.

Standard after-lunch constitutional around the gardens again, then for more exploring up the little alleyways surrounding our house. We discovered a tiny shrine not far away, which is very picturesque.

What a lovely day, wonderful gifts, lovely family and no miserable British weather. In the evening, once Rhiannon had finally been packed off to bed, we were able to relax with a good film and no boring BBC TV repeats.

Heaven!

Backtracking a little...

This is the drawback of not keeping a diary! I've forgotten to include details of our luggage arriving a couple of days before Mum reached Tokyo... so...

 

Finally! Our main shipment of luggage has been released from customs and a large red lorry arrived one fine morning. Something to keep us occupied at last.

With extreme efficiency and skill, the driver somehow reversed the lorry up our tiny road and a gang of men managed to unload what seemed to be hundreds of boxes in record time.

Even though they offered to unpack everything, I preferred to do this myself. So they just put the boxes in the relevant rooms and left me to get on with it. I set Rhiannon to task to unpack her million soft toys while I hurried through the remaining boxes to find the Christmas gifts while I had the chance to hide them.

Much joy was experienced when I discovered our box of necessities like tea and biscuits. As I mentioned previously, it's amazing how something so mundane becomes exciting.

I didn't disctract myself for too long in this box, but it was a little like Christmas already. However, most of the time I thought to myself "why on earth did we think it was important to bring this?"

This is something that commonly occurs when you've lived without the 'normal' home-comforts for a while. You become used to living a minimalist life, so when suddenly all sorts of extra items arrive, however familar and missed they are, you feel overwhelmed with possessions. 

Priorities change, but it's all here now and we can't send it back.

Rhiannon is completely over the moon with her re-discovery of much missed toys, so I guess that makes it all worthwhile.

Christmas Eve 2006

In the evening, I joyfully announced to my friends online in the UK that I’d be having Christmas before them and then settled down to wrapping presents. Not as easy a job as expected as Japan does not seem to have wrapping paper of any kind, let alone any of the size we’re used to. And certainly not any Christmas paper. We forgot the Japanese don’t celebrate Christmas.

Rhiannon has received her letter from Santa, complete with reindeer food and a special key so that he can find his way in without a chimney! We have used this fabulous place every year so far, and cannot fault them in any way www.specialletters.com. The wonderful people here (especially Sharon) work so hard to make each year’s letter very special and personal. It’s wonderful to be able to keep the magic alive in this way – I wonder how long Rhiannon will continue to believe?

 So, Christmas Eve is over, food has finally been found for tomorrow, wine is chilling in the fridge, Mum is doing sudokus, Tim is grumpy - all is normal!

Rhiannon has put the special reindeer food out on the doorstep (apparently it glows once she’s asleep, so guiding Rudolph and friends to the correct house) along with a can of beer and a snack for Santa! She’s trotted happily off to bed with her stocking.

Due to her light sleeping habits (grrr!) she has to leave her stocking outside her room, which does make it easier to fill, but has drawbacks if (or more usually, when) she gets up during the night. If the stocking is filled too early, none of us will get any sleep at all. So we have to drop it off in the early hours of the morning, just in case...

18th December 2006 or thereabouts...

Grumpiness...

Oh, I can’t wait for school to start! Rhiannon is becoming stir crazy and driving me up the wall. She doesn’t like walking anywhere (can't say I blame her there, to be honest!); she doesn’t want to do this or that, just stay in playing PC games, watching TV or worse, playing Barbies’! Of course, with Mum here, I am obliged to show her the sights, and, with Tim at work, this means my whinging daughter has to come too. Counting the days to the start of the school term in January...

In emails to friends, my words were “She is being a right royal pain in the ass”, so, even though I cannot remember exactly what she was doing, she was obviously being rather annoying.

I can’t even escape to the PC in the evenings as Tim’s on there all night while I entertain Mum until she finally goes to bed at midnight. Whatever happened to her jetlag?

Still, Mum’s been wonderful – her stamina is as incredible as usual and I end up totally exhausted after traipsing around showing her the few places we've  discovered so far. We went to Tokyo Hands a couple of times, where Mum was in her element with all the craft stuff. I also bought a few more Christmas decorations to show willing: I'm a bit "Bah, Humbug!" about Christmas.

And she kindly bought me a whole load of houseplants so I'm finally beginning to feel that this house is home now. Getting them back was interesting on the Metro and we had to have one large tree delivered. I’m still not entirely sure how I managed to do that with no Japanese language skills at all. But sure enough, it arrived later that day - how wonderful!

At this point I still had no idea what we are going to have for Christmas dinner! None of us fancied the epic trek to Nissin, and the local supermarket doesn’t stock any meat larger than a chicken leg.

Then, a revelation! On one of our exploratory trips around Shibuya, we discovered that the department stores have food halls in their basements! Usually running over 2 floors, with one floor housing a supermarket while the other has all kinds of unusual and tasty looking ready meals.

The supermarket we found was like Harrods Food Hall on steroids. It had the most amazing items on sale and we managed to find, of all things, Marmite!

Meat is still extremely expensive but we did find a nice big chicken, so that’s what we will be having for Christmas Day. It was the only recognisable and affordable thing. Half a kilo of stewing steak was £20... so I'd better make sure I make THE most fabulous stew! Luckily we don't like turkey, anyway.

 

We spent more time gazing at the unusual foods on display than actual shopping. Some of the fish was incredible and the veggies totally mindblowing in their unusualness. And as for the mushrooms... well, they look like the things Mum always said not to eat in her garden because they're poisonous.

 

 

A giant fish-head gazing up at us through its dead eyes made us jump. I guess it was a tuna but the size just blew me away – easily the size of two human adult heads. There was also a slice of fish that cost approximately £500 for something the size of a lamb chop. Again, I have no idea what it was, but the price was seriously impressive.

Also incredible were the number and size of “gift fruit” – melons the size of footballs selling for £100. Apples twice the size of the ones we’re used to in Britain for £10 each and luscious peaches of similar proportions and prices. Each were lovingly wrapped and presented.

We bought the “ordinary” ones.

Sadly we were unable to find a Christmas Pudding, so we will forgo that tradition this year, and instead buy a typically Japanese Christmas Cake instead. A beautiful (yet very un-Christmassy) confection of cream, sponge and strawberries.

 

We've also got blue crisps (!) and something completely unknown as an experiment. I don't know whether it's sweet or savoury so that should be fun. They are little pink cakey looking items, tastefully decorated.

I feel slightly more relaxed now that I know what we are going to eat for our first Christmas dinner in Japan.

 

An International Supermarket!

It's amazing how something so mundane can become exciting and adventurous!

Some friends took us to an international supermarket called Nissin where we are assured we will be able to get all kinds of necessary groceries. Hooray!!

However, this involved numerous and complex changes on the Metro and a lot of walking. Not very practical.

The first floor is a general supermarket, and the top floor is just full to the brim with alcohol: I have never seen so many bottles of booze in one place - not even at the parties I used to attend in my 'youth'!

We managed to buy some recognisable items, including some small joints of meat and cereals, so we are now set for the next week or so. I have to pretend to mum that we eat properly, of course!

But the struggle to carry all the shopping bags home was totally exhausting, so I can't see us doing that very often. We literally walked miles.

Our First Visitor

Mum’s arrived!

I had been dreadfully worried about her as, just before we left the UK, she confessed that her blood pressure was dangerously high, and I can’t help feeling that our move was contributing to this. She’d been hiding the fact as "she didn't want to worry me", even telling my brother not to tell me - some hope, he never calls anyway. 

This is typical of Mum: many years after the event she eventually got around to telling me about her heart attack.  Parents can be such a worry: I thought it was supposed to be the other way around.

We also lost a good family friend last month after a long and painful deterioration. Gordon had been a massive influence to me and, together with my darling dad, introduced me to the marvellous hobbies of conservation, wildlife and bird-watching, and I will remember him fondly. And console myself with the thought of him and Dad happy in "heaven" searching for afterlife wildlife.

But, back to Mum...

She stepped out of the taxi from the airport looking absolutely fabulous and healthy! I’m sure the enforced 12 hours of sitting on a plane with her feet up did wonders for her. She isn't one for taking a rest so I was much relieved. It's only been a few weeks since I last saw her, but it seems like a lifetime ago.

Our house appears to be very difficult to find, even with state-of-the art GPS systems. I'd posted her a photo of the front aspect so she could show the driver, but we haven't found a map yet. However, it worked, after a few missed turnings, and the driver was very pleased with himself, grinning broadly and giving us the thumbs up.

After a reviving cup of coffee we set off to counteract her jetlag and show her the neighbouring Shinjuku Gyoen Garden. The perfect antidote for a tired and exhausted botanical artist and nature lover like mum!

At only 200yen to enter (less than £1), this is a cheap and beautiful place to spend time, and Rhiannon and I have spent a lot of time here since arriving. The Autumn colours are particularly spectacular in the brilliant blue sky and clear sunshine. Ginko trees are still bright yellow, and the acers are an almost unbelievable shade of red. Rhiannon has fun running through the fallen leaves, like generations of children before her. We did laugh though, when she jumped into a particularly thick and crunch-looking pile... and disappeared up to her waist!http://www.env.go.jp/garden/shinjukugyoen/english/index.html

It was hard to get Mum away from the garden and, being so close to home, she is already planning a sketching visit later during her stay.

 

Shake, Rattle and Roll

Something strange happened this evening. Rhiannon was in bed and Tim and I were pottering around when suddenly there was a loud “whump” which rattled the large, French windows in our dining room.

To me, this sounded a lot like the wind I heard as a child growing up on the edge of Dartmoor, so I took little notice of it, apart from wondering what the weather was doing.

Minutes later, another “whump” sounded and the ground shook, and carried on shaking for, ooh, all of a few seconds. But it felt a lot longer than that. Our first earthquakes! Luckily, it didn’t wake Rhiannon up.

Although fully aware of the high seismic activity in Japan I had taken the ostrich approach and had neglected to find out what we were supposed to do when “the Big One” hit.  So, somewhat nervously I started googling.

I found a website http://earthquake.usgs.gov/eqcenter/recenteqsww/Maps/region/Asia.php which gives details of the strength of the tremor and discovered this one measured a mere 4.6 on the Richter Scale – a minor earthquake. Minor in geological terms, maybe, but pretty major for me! I am not looking forward to experiencing anything larger than that. I was shaking long after the ground had stopped.

Sometimes it is really not a good idea to google.

I had a very sleepless night and resolved to buy myself some pyjamas.