Monday, December 03, 2007

Jean Therapy for Cringemuss

With less than a month to go before Crimbletide, I am now no longer allowed to buy myself anything bar essential goods. Luckily, I did a little spending spree before the calendar change, ordering a bunch of CDs from Amazon Japan and stopping by the new big Uni Qlo stores in Oxford Street for a couple of tops and a pair of jeans.

Yes, that's right - this is the first pair of jeans I have ever bought. I gave up on jeans before I started having to buy clothes for myself, and I still don't get the WORLD's obsession with them. Denim is not an especially nice fabric for starters, they get worn out pretty easily and the cut is rarely comfortable. On top of that, EVERYBODY WEARS THEM. Aliens probably think it's some global uniform the UN has decreed all must wear. More people wear jeans out of work than people wear suits to work. Now I've finally gotten myself a pair (mainly because I thought I might as well get some blue trousers in a change to my dark/beige/green selection), I feel even more self-conscious about the fact everyone else is wearing the same than if I'd been wearing something no-one else was wearing. I'm glad I bought them and it's a useful addition to my wardrobe, but come on guys! How about NOT wearing jeans for charity rather than the traditional vice-versa scenario? They're so...boring.

Fashion column over. The Christmas lights have been going up in Turnpike Lane the past week - well, they're non-religious specific, just some twinkly bits on the side of streetlamps. As Bill Bailey referred to in his Tinselworm show I saw on Thursday, they're just there to emphasise the Primary Gifting Period ("BEGIN THE PGP!") that have made advertisements on television more tedious than ever. While we're perhaps more inundated with 'Buy Me' breaks than in Japan, at least it's not as commercially ruthless as it was over there. They were already removing garlands from shop displays at 10pm on Christmas Day. Back closer to home, a banner was being put up over Ducketts Common roughly the same time as the Christmas lights. Would it be a Christmas message? Or a celebratory sign of some sort? Um...no...

STOP DOMESTIC VIOLENCE
Zero Tolerance in Haringey

Charming. The banner's already been battered and abused by the wind, causing it to look even more depressing in its now contorted, crumpled state.

Speaking of signs, I've recently been enjoying entertainingly named businesses. I'm pretty certain I would enlist the services of a snappier or sillier named business than a more mundane one, regardless of recommendations or qualifications. There was Swanky! Beauty Salon I saw on the bus today, the Fishcoteque chippie by the BFI Imax (I intend to open a geeky fish and chop called "All Your Plaice Are Belong To Us"), and Jim'll Mix It cement mixer. Whether I needed cement mixed or no, it's worth getting a patio just to tell your mates that Jim mixed it for you.

"Now then, now then, now then, concrete, cement, etc."

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Listening to: Daft Punk - Voyager
via FoxyTunes

Monday, November 19, 2007

The Lone Gigger

Last night I went to see Arcade Fire at the Alexandra Palace. However, I was in Japan when tickets were on sale, and not wanting to pass up the opportunity in case they sold out (which they did), I decided to buy one then and there. But I did not want to fork out twice or thrice the price to get extra tickets, in the hope that I could convince someone else to go to a concert months into the future, and get paid back for it. So it was a solo venture as I walked through the wind and rain from home to the venue, a grand place for a concert indeed (having seen Franz Ferdinand there two years previous in a similar state of loneliness).

So what does one actually do at gigs when you're on your own and waiting for the bands to come on? It's too expensive and time-consuming queueing to drink, yet I was too sober to start up chit-chat with strangers - no-one wants to appear too enthusiastic about the band, despite the fact that everyone there is a fan (otherwise, why would they be there?). Instead, you're left standing there on your own while groups of friends around you have vastly entertaining and interesting conversations you want to join in with but feel it socially inappropriate to do so; no one wants their evening spoiled by some strange nobody chiming in with their two cents like they're worth a dime (that's ten cents).

Well, pehaps not turning up early would be a good idea. Then I spent my time putting my coat in the cloakroom, looking at prices for food and drinks, then found a spot by the tech crew and waited. For 45 minutes. The good thing was that Alexandra Palace is perhaps the best venue in London to get a signal (what with it being the old broadcast centre), so mobile phone use was not a problem. The boredom was alleviated through a light bit of texting, something that just would not be possible in the more cavernous capital venues (at which point, not even faux-phone-fiddling - in which you pretend to be doing important things like sending or checking messages - would slide).

Maybe there should be some kind of gig-goer application on something like last.fm where it wouldn't be considered socially awkward to check who's going on their own. Perhaps you can hook up with a like-minded group of people - I mean, the band could be a starting point for just getting to know others. Could even expand into a dating service sort of realm - music is a personal thing, and if you share similar tastes in tunes, who knows? They could be 'the one'. But I digress...

Once the support acts were on, it was fine. You're among a crowd and the focus is on music rather than being a Billy No-Mates. While New Englanders Wild Light better fitted the bill as a warm-up, Liverpudlian band Clinic were perhaps the more entertaining band, even if they seemed to bemuse most of the audience. Living up to their name by wearing dark blue surgical outfits, Clinic's pounding mix of indie-punk-folk and strange strange vocals was creepy but interesting.

Arcade Fire themselves were stunning. An energetic, kinetic live show thanks to the brilliant visuals and lighting, and the rambunctious nature inherent with so many band members and instruments on stage. Lead singer Win Butler's vocals were drowned out during My Body Is A Cage and a teasing opening to a cover of Pulp's Common People never came to pass, but the rest of it was joyous. The anthemic choral nature of their songs lend themselves perfectly to crowd sing-a-longing and clapping which required little to no direction, such were the lyrics and music engrained within all the attendees. Including myself. So I guess I wasn't alone after all...

Bah, screw sentimentality and lessons learned. Next time, I'm forcing someone to come with me.

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Listening to: Clinic - Fingers
via FoxyTunes

Thursday, November 15, 2007

Guess Who's Back? Needs A Scratch?

Flash forward three months and you find me here. In London. With macaroni cheese running down my kitchen window.

To briefly fill in the gaps, I'm now well into the first term of my final year at SOAS. The workload is pretty intense - I could easily coast by for the moment, but I know that preparation is key to survival. Or something. Being back from Japan is a little weird; I miss a lot of things about living there, but I missed a lot of things about living here too, so go figure (oooh, that sounded very early 90s). Despite all the pressing engagements (two essays for the end of term, dissertation deadlines to make, Japanese Language Proficiency Test Level 2), there's still time for frivolity. Well, there kind of isn't, but it gets you out the house, don't it?

Case in point - this time last week I was watching I'm A Cyborg But That's OK, followed by a talk with the director Park Chan-wook, who I believe to be something of a genius - and yet I've only seen two of his films. Well, three now. It was the closing night gala of the London Korean Film Festival, and his screen talk with Empire writer Damon Wise (via translator) was funny, frank and illuminating. I can't imagine many directors would be so honest about their early films, box office success and failure and the meaning of their work. I think he does a commentary on the Oldboy DVD which I should really listen to some time. Anyway, I review his latest on my review blog (yes, it's still there) here.

Another case in point - last Saturday, I went to see all 14 episodes of genius sitcom Spaced in one day in a grand comedy show marathon as part of the BFI's Channel 4 at 25 celebrations. In between the two series, we were treated to a Q&A with Edgar Wright, Simon Pegg, Nick Frost, Katy Carmichael, Mark Heap and Julia Deakin, chaired by big-chinned, whine-voiced Radio Times film-prong Andrew Collins. Although Jessica Hynes (Stevenson) couldn't make it (leaving us a brilliant recorded message instead), it was a brilliant way to spend 10 hours. We even got to see Aida the Dog (aka Colin the Dog)! Interestingly, the episodes were taken from their original broadcast, so at the end, the voice announcer would keep telling us Frasier was coming up next. The Q&A session was the highlight - Nick Frost is a comedy genius par excellence, and I even got to ask a question. Well, no-one else was sticking their hand up, so off the fly I asked them what it was like having met and collaborated with film directors such as George A. Romero and Quentin Tarantino having referenced them in Spaced. Not a great question, but we got a nice anecdote about Edgar meeting John Carpenter in Virgin, both buying The Beatles' Help! on DVD. I also thanked them for putting Wells on the map with Hot Fuzz, to which Edgar punched the air and Simon asked me "Didn't you know where it was before?".


The bizzayness doesn't stop there. I'm running the SOAS Film Society every Tuesday night. So far I've shown Children of Men, Chung King Express, The Thing and Grizzly Man, with A Scanner Darkly due next week. Also, I'm hosting Tokyo Soundscape, my Japanese music show, every Friday 1-2pm, which can be listened to through Open Air Radio. I got myself a MySpace page for it, so please be my friend, or I will hunt you down and cut you. Kiddles!

And as for the macaroni...well, it seems that not only do we have a bedbug infestation and noisy stupid neighbours, but someone flung macaroni cheese on our kitchen window. It was still steaming as it congealed on the glass, and I didn't even hear it happen. One moment it wasn't there, the next SPLOK! As the window only overlooks our neighbours, it could only have been them; unless the people directly below us had especially good aim. Still, there's a Citizen's Advice Bureau round the corner which I'm hankering to pay a visit. Once I've stoppoed wasting time doing stupid things like blogging.

Ah! It's good to be back!

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Listening to: Fredo - Grande
via FoxyTunes

Tuesday, August 14, 2007

Bon Voyage Bullet Points

So I said goodbye to my dear mother and younger brother yesterday morning (after infuriatingly leaving behind a whole bunch of stuff they could have taken back with them, thereby easing my own luggage). You can view a variety of photos from the three weeks we spent travelling together on my Flickr collection, but for now, here's a brief rundown of some of the things we got up to during this time as best as memories serve (Hamish has a far more detailed journal he regularly updated during the holiday, which may prove a better testament to our experiences). Nevertheless...


Friday 27th July
  • Early morning Shinkansen to Tokyo to meet up with half my family at their hotel in Asakusa. They've already done the temple and Ueno Zoo, so not bad going considering the jetlag.
  • Take the Sumida River Cruise through Tokyo down towards Obaida, passing under multiple (supposedly interesting) bridges along the way
  • Experience the madness of the Fuji Television Japan Broadcast Centre, which involved live shows, shops, stalls and stands related to TV shows I knew nothing about (having been sans telly all year)
  • Meet up with Ian in the evening for dinner and drinks at Kamiya in Asakusa. As we exited, a fire patrol man entered the building with a stretcher, and a couple of drunken salaryman attempted some English conversation (as they often do).
Saturday July 28th
  • Shopping in Akihabara, at various electronics and media centres.
  • Bump into Nick and a friend of his there, having a post-Fuji Rock Festival day out.
  • Visit Edo-Tokyo Museum for various real and reconstructed exhibits charting the history of the capital. Best bit: pretending to ride a penny-farthing!
  • Weave our way through the crowds to find a spot for the Sumida-gawa fireworks festival. Some kind local punters offer us a tiny space to sit in a baseball ground, which felt like being in a concentration camp. Except with fireworks. And glorious ones they were, eliciting genuine gasps and wows. Knocked Tenjin Matsuri for six.
Sunday July 29th
  • Election day is spent shopping in Shibuya. Breakfast in Starbucks overlooking 'that' crossing.
  • Bump into Ricky Wilson, lead singer of Kaiser Chiefs, in a tiny T-shirt shop. A little sunburnt and bruised from their show at Fuji Rock Festival the night before (he was wearing a festival t-shirt), I would have loved to stop for a chat about Polysics, but thought it best to leave him to it.
  • Just as we reach Harajuku, we're hit by a terrific downpour and vicious lightning bolts strike all around us, so we decamp under a subway entrance, then get brollies just as the worst has subsided.
  • Weave through teeny shopping streets of Omotesando, then back into Yoyogi Park as the rain lets up to watch the rockabillies twist their hips, strike imaginary air guitar strings and slide about the place.
  • Back onto Harajuku Jingu-bashi to see the cosplay crew out in force.
  • Arcade games in Shibuya, followed by Ratatouille, which is the best Pixar (and by that token, probably CG-animated) film since Toy Story 2. Heart-warming, grin-inducing, and more mature than you'd ordinarily expect from a film featuring talking rodents.
Monday 30th July
  • Final meeting with the Heiwa-Nakajima Foundation all by myself.
  • Walk to Tokyo Tower for pics and postcards.
  • Subway to Shinjuku and up to the Tokyo Metropolitan Government Offices for views of the city.
  • Into the hustle-bustle of Shinjuku itself and explore the massive Takashimaya Times Square department store, from the basement food hall to the HMV near the top.
  • Din-dins at an izakaya before returining to the government building for night-time cityscapes.
Tuesday 31st July
  • Asakusa Temple and market, plus the wonders of the 100 yen shop and the Studio Ghibli shop round the corner.
  • Into central Tokyo and a pilgrimage to the Godzilla statue outside the Toho building.
  • A look into the aquarium outside Sony Plaza turns stomach-churning when a puffer fish decides to chew on the head of one of it's co-habitants and begins an off-putting brain-eating frenzy. Pizza for lunch...
  • Spot a blimp on the way to Tokyo Imperial Palace Park. Walk through the grounds, hope for martial arts at the Budokan in Kitanomaru Park, but, alas, there's some concert going on (didn't know any of the artists except someone from the Backstreet Boys was DJing apparently - there's a mark of quality if I ever saw one).
  • 'Do' Yasukuni shrine for the controversy factor.
  • Tokyo Dome and the Koraku-en Amuseume Park offer night-time thrills. The Thunder Dolphin rollercoaster is just as fast as ever, GeoPanic is an underground (read: dark with flashy lights) trip to the centre of the earth, but scariest attraction was easily the horror house experience Yami no Shika Byoutou (Dentristy Ward of Darkness). Taking place in The 13 Doors area that Harry visited in 2004 and sponsored by The Grudge 2, Hamish and I had to navigate terrifying corridors while examining corpses for evil teeth. While others took their time, we kept our heads low and ran, trying to avoid the monsters popping out to make us 'fill' our pants. Abso-bloody-lutely terrifying, but so much fun.
Wednesday 1st August
  • Shinkansen in the morning all the way down to Fukuoka (with a stop at Shin-Osaka). Make a brief stop at the City Disaster Prevention Centre if only for a chance to use the wind tunnel and earthquake simulators. Turned out to be the best thing we did all day.
  • Reach Fukuoka's rather soulless sea front with obligatory 'big tower' and baseball dome.
  • Decide to walk to the largest ferris wheel in Asia. Bad idea. Must have taken us about an hour and a half, plus a wrong turn thanks to near identical naming for two completely different places. Once we get there, we ride it round, then leave soon after, taking the bus this time.
  • Train down to Kumamoto, arriving in the evening.
Thursday 2nd August
  • Q. Why did the castle swear uncontrollably? A. It had turrets. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry...
  • Moving on, we visited Kumamoto Castle amid temperamental weather. As we walked onwards to the Former Hosokawa Gyobutei Samurai Villa, the wind and rain became truly dreadful, and it was only when we went to the train station to check departure times that we discovered a category 5 typhoon had hit Kyushu and we had been sight-seeing during it. Decamp into a nearby arcade for blister-inducing Taiko no Tatsujin 10 (of which my mother became quite a fan).
Friday 3rd August
  • Errands and such in the morning, Suizenji-koen in the afternoon. Most of the rest of the day was presumably spent in the covered shopping arcades of Kumamoto.
Saturday 4th August
  • Fine weather for our trip to Mt. Aso, but the previous days' typhoon had caused a signal failure at one station, meaning what should have been a journey of half an hour or so lasted some three hours instead. Frustrating doesn't begin to cover it.
  • Eventually make it to our arrival station, then bus it up to the cable car station, then cable car it up to volcano creater, foregoing lunch (I know! Lunch!).
  • Weather reaches its peak of excellence as we reach the crater, and watch the bubbling water and smoke plumes rise from within. Beautiful, epic, prehistoric landscapes (and Japanese girls dying to have their picture taken with yours truly).
  • Long journey back to the station, but forego trains for a good old coach (though that's almost half an hour late).
  • Arrive at Suizenji-koen again with about 40 minutes left of Takigi No (No theatre performed by firelight, which only takes place here once a year). Makes little sense and is somewhat repetitive (40 minutes is just about enough really), but remains engrossing and atmospheric.
Sunday 5th August
  • Trains to Fukuoka and onto Hiroshima. Our hotel is 2 minutes walk from the Peace Memorial Park, which we then visit to observe the preparations taking place. Meet Catherine, helping with the organisation, who just so happens to be an ex-Sheffield University student who also studied at Doshisha for a year (instantly connected with the Matsumoto-sensei namecheck) and was now on the JET program, so knew Josy. Coinkydink!
  • Take a look around a packed Peace Memorial Museum (naturallement). An old Japanese man strikes up a conversation with us about how he was a student when the bomb was dropped, but he was working in an arms factory at the time, so he was spared (although his mother died - his house was where the park is now). He then offered to send me various materials on his peace foundation, which was very generous, arriving soon after we got back.
  • Wander about the park some more, visiting the various sights it's renowned for, while workers set up stands and stages, press crews position cameras and orchestras rehearse.
  • Dinner in Okonomiyaki Mura, a building filled with numerous okonomiyaki counters. Naysh.
Monday 6th August
  • Wake up early to a rumbling downpour outside, but it had luckily ceased by the time we left the hotel to attend the Peace Memorial Ceremony from 8am. Music, speeches and wreath-planting, followed by a minute's silence as the bell tolled to mark the exact moment the bomb was dropped. Then, scores of doves (pigeons, actually) were released. Unexpectedly, PM Shinzo Abe, still reeling from the election results, was in attendance and gave a speech reinforcing the three non-nuclear principles Japan followed, though the Mayor of Hiroshima's emphasis on leaving the constitution as is must have caused a little tension between them both.
  • Take the tram to Miyajima port, and board the ferry to the island, where we encounter the resident deer who, unlike their Nara counterparts, are not allowed to be fed, so they end up trying to eat out of bins and tourists' pockets.
  • The tide was out, so we could walk quite close up to the famous floating torii for some good photo opportunities, then we headed up to Senjo-kaku, an unfinished but impressive hall and pagoda combo.
  • Walk around Itsukushima-jinja, marvelling at the teeny crabs beneath us.
  • Trek through the woods up Mt. Misen, board a cable car offering fascinating views of the forest beneath us, and then across the Inland Sea, which was simply breath-taking. Plus, at the top, there were a bunch of monkeys, lazing about in the shade and picking bugs out of each other (and some of the deer there too).
  • After leaving the island, we saw spectators watching a sport of some kind taking place in the water. Our investigations revealed it was speedboat racing, which sounds mighty cool, but in actuality looked rather dull, just watching boats zip round in a loop again and again.
  • Take a seat in front of the river next to the A-Bomb Dome and watch the Peace Lantern Ceremony as hundreds of paper lanterns are floated down the river (some more successfully than others).
Tuesday 7th August
  • Travel to Himeji in time for lunch and a visit to the castle. Blazing hot, but certainly worth the effort (and having watched You Only Live Twice three times in the space of a couple of months, couldn't help noticing some of the ninja training locales).
  • Koko-en gardens and ex-samurai quarters provide a chance to gather ourselves before heading back to the station and onto Kyoto.
  • Check in at the hotel right next to the station, then meet up with various buds at Kyoto Tower Beer Garden to bid Baptiste farewell. Don't drink or eat enough (thanks to time limitations and constant photo-taking), but it's followed by gaming sessions, purikura, ice cream and, ultimately, all-night karaoke in a psychedelic ocean-themed disco room.
Wednesday 8th August
  • Meet up with Mama and the Mish for a walk around Shijo and Gion, then through Yasaka-jinja and Maruyama Park (home to some very peculiar ducks) en route to Kiyomizu-dera. Much the same as my previous visits, but before we go, went into a little temple before the entrance in which you navigate through corridors in pitch darkness, supposedly symbolising being in the womb of some deity or other. Not quite sure, but worth 100 yen anyway.
  • Shopping in Shijo arcades and a walk down Nishiki food market and Ponto-cho is followed by yummy yakiniku (though a dead rat outside the restaurant didn't really sell the establishment very well - "Poor Remy", as Hamish remarked).
Thursday 9th August
  • Nara - deer love crackers. Whether it was because it was too hot or it was a weekday, not sure, but Nara wasn't busy at all, meaning the attractions were not as heaving as I was worried they would be. Visit the Todai-ji, squeeze myself through the hole in the pole round the back of the Daibutsu (though I reached a point where neither my arms or legs could touch the ground, so I needed to be pulled out the other end).
  • Views from the Nigatsu-do balcony and a chance for some rest before a lantern-lined walk in the woods. Kofuku-ji pagoda, turtle action at Sarusawa pond, then more delicious okonomiyaki. As we leave, the night illuminations have begun, but, figuring it's just going to be everything we've seen during the day, but with little lights hither and thither, we call it a day.
Friday 10th August
  • A call from the International Centre at Doshisha (I'm too appear in more promotional material for the university) coincides with a visit to Imadegawa campus, and Mumsy and Hamish get a chance to sample the tastes of the canteen. Dip into Tsutaya to rent a movie, then hop on a bus to Kinkakuji. Or at least, I got very confused, and we took the bus to Ginkakuji instead. But what the hey, we ended up catching them both that afternoon, so it all turned out okay.
  • Head to Mukaijima to give a (brief) tour of my room. Hamish stays the night, so we go to the wacky shop round the corner, buy some McDonald's and watch Godzilla vs Destoroyah. Ilan comes round a little later and goes a bit bonkers while we watch YouTube videos into the wee hours.
Saturday 11th August
  • Slow start, but get into Osaka for lunch, and visit geeky stores, like electronics shops and the Chax Colony in Amerika-mura. End up in the long arcade and go on a spending spree in Book Off, getting second-hand movie pamphlets and DVDs on the cheap.
  • Take a peek in Mike's Store (the place with the Predator statue outside) and K-Optix (the place with the Cucumber Hendrix figure, which we sneakily snap, deflecting staff assistance concerning eyewear).
  • Walk through Den Den Town and brief stops in Super Potato and Retro Game Revival to look at the stacks of console crap and play Virtual Boy.
  • Meet with Mother (who has spent a very hot day temple-hopping in Kyoto), and walk about Dotombori, where we have dinner, giggle at the dog cafĂ©, observe the pretty neon (much of it now themed around the upcoming world athletics tournament to be held in Osaka) and play a few arcade games.
Sunday 12th August
  • Arashiyama is today's destination, and a lovely day for it too. Watch some fishing, then go for a relaxing boat trip on the Hozu River.
  • After lunch, we head to Tenryu-ji for it's lovely garden, then walk through the bamboo groves behind, stop at a station for shaved ice-cream, then get horribly lost on the way back, thanks to just not taking a right when I should have done.
  • Back into Shijo for karaoke (a chance to show how I've improved over the course of my study year abroad), then a few more arcade games before bed.
Monday 13th August
  • Final shopping in Shijo, then a purikura session at Namco Wonder Tower, which results in some frightful editing and rakugaki afterwards.
  • Fushimi Inari-taisha in the late afternoon/early evening. Spiders, cats, snakes and bats give it a 'witch's cauldron' atmosphere and it's a tiring climb to the top for views of Kyoto, but we make it (well, Hamish calls it quits two flights of steps from the goal).
  • Dinner at Fujinoya on the balcony overlooking the Kamo-gawa. Small portions, but so many courses (not all of it to our tastes, but the tempura was delicious).
And that's about it. I realise now that I really actually don't have much time remaining at all. I had expected to do a lot more relaxing this week, but there's still a few time-consuming chores to get done (mostly packing and writing my final foundation letter), so I may have to leave more final thoughts-style blogs until I'm back in Blighty. Until then, toodles!

Wednesday, July 25, 2007

The Parting of the Ways

My time at Doshisha has drawn to a close. Today was my last day of attendance, and I overslept. Goes to show just how tired I have been all this year, but especially the past few weeks. Luckily, a call from Baptiste woke me up, and I made it to the classroom just in time for my penultimate test. After the final exams, I handed in my final report, and then went to the little luncheon party for us foreign students were I said many goodbyes, some only temporary, some most probably permanently, and the rest? Well, we'll always have Facebook. Still, I had a fun evening in Osaka with a few buddies watching the climax of the Tenjin Festival, perfectly positioned to watch the spectacular fireworks burst over the festival boats on the river below. It was quite a send-off. Tomorrow will be spent alerting the country to the fact that I will be departing soon, via the bank, the ward office, the internet company, etc.

As I'm off to Tokyo on Friday morn, I won't be able to attend the big farewell party (all for Josh, apparently) that evening, which is a bummer - but there will still be a few people sticking around once I'm back in Kyoto. Of course, the reason I'm going to Tokyo is to begin a big Japan trip with my mother and younger brother (Hamish, in case you don't know), both of whom I haven't seen since September, so that will no doubt take my mind off my final farewells. I probably won't be posting much while we're travelling, but I'll be back in Kyoto on 7th August , so perhaps a blog and Flickr update will be in order then. They'll be off on the 14th, and I finally leave on the 20th, so during that time I hope to post some final thoughts (Jerry Springer-style) on my time in Japan. No doubt this blog, plus RoryView, will continue beyond my time here, but please leave comments and give me feedback just to know that this isn't completely worthless and I'm just doing this to appease my creative spirit (or swollen ego).

So this week is a time of joy tinged with sadness. Or maybe sadness tinged with joy. I'm both happy that my exams are over, I'm about to embark on an amazing journey, see family members for the first time in months and I will soon be going home. But also genuinely upsetting just how many people I'm going to miss. It's not that my fellow Doshisha (and assorted other institution) buds have just been filling a void left by my SOAS compatriots, scattered throughout the land, but more that they have joined their ranks - extending the rich tapestry of solid-gold ladies and gentlemen I can consider genuine friends.

Perhaps this ambivalence can be summed up in this advert for 24: Season Six, posted outside the Imadegawa Tsutaya (strange how one of my last Japan posts involves 24 advertising much as one of my first posts - I have come full circle). My feelings towards this season reflect my feelings now (first half: so good; second half: not so good), and the advert seems to have captured this somewhat. Clearly Jack Bauer is not a happy bunny in this picture and appears to be shouting or screaming, but what is written here is certainly not what would have been the first exclamation to enter my head. It's kind of a pain/pleasure sensation of sorts:



Thanks to all my Doshisha and Kyoto chums (students and staff alike). It's been emotional. All good things, indeed.

Monday, June 25, 2007

On Thin Ice

Apologies. After promising to open up the floodgates of blogginess, such a torrent of day-to-day happenings has recently been curtailed by homework, presentations, essays and revision. However, today I have a little chance for a breather to spill my guts about our little ice-skating trip the other weekend.

Alice, Nick, Ilan, U-chan, Parn, Baptiste and Meeee got up at a semi-reasonable hour to board the lovely faux-old-fashioned Hankyu railway cars to Osaka. We navigated our way through the rather soggy weather to Namba Parks, which was really just your typical Japanese mall (typical meaning swish and fancy), and after a long-awaited pizza and pasta luncheon, we made our way to the Namba sports centre. It took us a while to work out how to use the umbrella locks to stow away our brollies in safety, and then we proceeded to the basement where the ice rink was situated.

So, I've never ice-skated in my life, and the only other people who shared my level of experience had had far more extensive roller-skating/-blading experience in their early years than I had done. It's not like I was deprived as a child, but more that strapping wheels to my feet wasn't an experience I had been too fussed about. And plus, it's for girls. I hoped my recent snowboarding skills I had picked up in Hokkaido would see me through (what? Ice? Snow? The same thing, right?). Having eventually found boots the right size for me and purchased some cheapo 'one size fits all' gloves (that one size is 'junior'), we headed out onto the surface, only to be ushered off seconds later as it was time for the resurfacing machine to do it's job. Great false start. But finally, it was time to hit the rink. And hit it I did. Again and again and again.

Us noobs hadn't received much tutelage upon our initial steps (read: skids), and while the pros offered us hints and tips, admittedly a lot of it you have to work out for yourself. U-chan and Ilan picked it up quite quick, while myself and Haruna (who'd joined us at the rink) struggled to make our legs work properly. I'd manage to push off on the right, but leave the left dragging behind, or vice versa. And looking at what you are doing with your feet means you are not looking where you are going. Which is kind of crucial really. The problem was that the slower I was going, the harder it was, but the faster I went, the probability of injury was greater. And boy howdy did it hurt. Over the course of a couple of hours, I had maybe two minor falls, but at least four really big ones. That doesn't sound too bad, but I only managed a few laps in which I did not feel like I was going to fall over at any moment. And the constant lappage was making me feel a little dizzy too.

My big falls were pretty spectacular though. I think it was twice where I fell flat forward and skidded on my belly a bit, but the real bad ones where when I was falling backwards onto my arm, shoulder, back, leg and arse - all at once. I was wearing a helmet, but unfortunately, they didn't have any arse helmets around. I had been keen to continue for another half an hour, but as soon as I said that, I had a terribly painful fall and could barely stand afterwards, let alone skate to the exit. What's more the staff on hand just skate past you and ignore you - no "Are you okay?" or "Do you need a hand?". They probably just think "Pff...Stupid amateur gaijin...".

I guess the really tricky part was both trying to skate properly whilst not hitting anyone else - and changing direction or stopping without causing myself to fall was a real challenge. The vast majority of punters were pretty adept at the skating thing, with a small few external to our group embracing the ice as I did. Plus, lots of tiny kids who had a habit of doing spins and such directly in front of your skating line. There were also a few representatives of figure skating teams from various Kansai universities, and I'd hate to crash into them and be the one to put an end to their burgeoning sports careers. "No Olympic Games for you, chum!" We also noticed that a significant number of patrons were old men whose sole purpose of being there seemed to be giving skating tips to young pretty girls. Sure, you're taking the grandchildren out for exercise! You just want to pick up chicks by teaching them how to do backwards lemons.

Well, I left with aches and pains that would worsen and remain for the next week, but kind of pleased. I never reached a stage where I was relaxed or comfortable, but it was fifty-fifty fun and frustrating. And all the pros gotta start somewhere, right? As I walked out, my feet were making sliding motions rather than taking proper steps - much as a prolonged trampoline session warps one perceptions of the foot-ground relationship. And from one dicey icey enocunter to another.

I was assaulted for the first time during my stay in Japan. YAY! I can safely say that it was far more of a bewildering experience than an intimidating one, just because the situation was so unexpected and came out of nowhere. To set it up, most of the others had gone home, but Ilan, Baptiste and I stayed for a quick trip to Yodoyabashi Camera for a webcam, The Legend of Zelda: Phantom Hourglass on Nintendo DS, and just because I hadn't been there myself, respectively. We then boarded the train back to Kyoto, and took a seat, when Dries appeared in the same carriage and stood in the aisle chatting with us. Ilan and Baptiste dozed off, while I talked to Dries about our day, his drinking plans for the next few days, and general studying banter.

About halfway into the journey, during our conversation, I crossed my legs. Now, I can't work out whether I brushed the leg of the passenger to my left or not, but he certainly reacted in such a way to suggest it. I offered an apology, and continued chatting. Then all of a sudden, he pushed my leg off my knee and started mouthing off in a slurred incomprehensible fashion (granted, my knowledge of Japanese swears is limited, but I couldn't work out any components of speech beyond a grunt). Then he pushes me again, and grabs his umbrella in what could have been an attempt to strike me with it, but Dries deflected it out of his hands, and tried to calm the situation. By this time, Ilan had stirred and suggested moving but I wasn't going to let some schmuck get the better of me. I again tried to ignore him and resumed talking to Dries (though I was trying to work out where I was in the conversation, I thought saying anything would show this joey I was resolutely non-plussed). But then he grabbed me by the ear, trying to dislodge the headphone which I had been listening to at low volume during my chat. That was too far in my book, so I resisted, gave him a look...and then kept on talking to Dries.

Luckily, the muppet got off at the next stop, barging past Dries with his satchel as he left (despite Dries being clearly a foot taller and certainly the one to bet on if it came to blows). It was all rather strange. My heart was pounding and adrenalin rushing, but it goes to show how well I've been brought up that I didn't deck him in straight away (though on the train home, all I could think about was socking him one). I just couldn't work out what his deal was. He was probably late 30's, early 40's (with some bizarre white whisps of hair above his lip, rather than what you could call a moustache), in dressed-down suit attire. I might not have been as suprised if he were a drunken salaryman on the way home from work, but it was a Sunday afternoon. Maybe he was upset about the rainy weather? Or he didn't like it that two foreigners were yapping away happily in words he couldn't understand right next to hime? According to Dries, while I continued to ignore him, he was simmering away and gripping his umbrella in a "I'm going to smack you one" sort of fashion. I think if that had happened, we'd easily have taken him. I mean, what did he expect to come of it? It's not like the other passengers were on his side - most shimmied down the seats, and afterwards a few were smiling in disbelief about what had just transpired, just as I was doing. I've never seen such smouldering rage emerge from someone that way before, let alone over something as trivial as brushing his leg and apologising. So, although it's the second worst case of assault I've received on public transport, it was certainly less scary than any of the times I've been only threatened with assault. I guess Osaka's thugs and punks have a long way to go if they want to compete with London's crooks.

Geez, just typing all that has got my blood boiling. Best to chill out again with the new refreshing beverage that's sweeping Japan-centric blogs across t'internet. The other week, I went into the FamilyMart oppostie the university before lessons for a bit of brekkie. I had just had some delicious Tropicana Golden Harvest (pineapple, kiwi, apple, grape) a few days previous, and was hoping to buy another. But shock horror! It had gone, and been replaced with PEPSI ICE CUCUMBER! WOW! I guess the Pepsi guys were like:

"Gee, you know the phrase, cool as a cucumber?"
"Sort of..."
"How about we make a cucumber-flavour soft drink?"
"Oooookayyyy"
"No, hear me out! Chicks get facials, right? At health spas. And they stick cucumbers on their eyes, you know? Well, cucumber equals healthy! And the chicks will dig it too!"
"But where in the world would an idea this crazy be accepted..."

Thus, Pepsi Ice Cucumber arrived in Japan, and the wacky legend was born. I'm pretty sure that's how it went. Either that, or some mad experiment gone wrong care of Professor Pepsi's laboratory. It's just another in a long line of stunt beverages but I just had to give it a try. I had left it chilled in the fridge over the weekend, but plucked up the courage to try it tonight. The bottle itself informs us that cucumber is the English for kyuuri (the Japanese for cucumber). It then follows with a sentence that translates as "Cola and Cucumber, surprising combination of refreshing cola!". As you can see from my expression upon holding it, I asked myself, "Can it be true, that I hold here in my mortal hand, a beverage of purest green?!"

It takes a few twists to open, but when it does, the rush of fizz is surprisingly loud and disconcerting, like that of a cannister of evil ooze being released. It's super bubbly, and a closer look at the colour reveals it's green to be less of a limeade green, and more like the monkey-micturation in the 'Apes of Wrath' episode of Garth Marenghi's Darkplace. Or at least Listerine. Not a good sign. Oh, but the smell! Now that was very cucumbery, and rather sneer-inducing. But I thought, what the hell, and took a few large gulps.

Initial thoughts? Not too bad. The taste was far too sweet to be that much like cucumber, which is probably a good thing. I love cucumber, but I really don't think it has a place in the beverage market (except maybe a slice or two in a Pimm's). A further swig suggests it's like a mix of cola, bubblegum, citrus and mint - perhaps better suited to the washing-up liquid aisle than the soft drink one. A bit too clinical. Still too sweet and fizzy for my likings; it makes for big belches, and it passed through me so quickly, I had to tinkle before my glass was half-empty. So I probably won't buy it again (not even sure I'm going to finish this bottle - a third through and I think it's already got the better of me, though that's better than some of the more day-to-day drinks offered in Japan). Still yet to give Kodomo no Nomimono a go, though - it's basically beer for kids. Well, no alcohol, all it really amounts to is bubbly apple juice with a foamy head. No worse than candy cigarettes, that are still in plentiful supply here in Japan, in original, chocolate and cola flavours to boot (though what the guy said in Super Size Me about 'Brand Imprinting For Later Actuation in Life' is ringing in my ears).

More skating pics on Parn's Facebook page! My own Flickr updates soon! I'm going now, bye!

Thursday, June 14, 2007

Our Feature Presentation

Out of all the major Japanese movie studios, Toho is undeniably the daddy. Rising to prominence in the 50's, thanks to the double whammy of Akira Kurosawa and Godzilla, it's also responsible for the film versions of many popular anime TV shows (Pokémon, Naruto, Bleach, Doraemon), has co-produced numerous Studio Ghibli efforts (including My Neighbour Totoro and Spirited Away), and released the likes of Densha Otoko, NANA, and Ringu. But it was only last Monday that I finally went to the Toho Cinema in Nijo. I'd been to the amusement arcade within the same entertainment complex before (lucky Gaidai folk living just a few minutes walk away), but this was the first time I got to go to the pictures.

Us men (myself, Brett, Josh, Dominik and Aleksi) went to see 300 for what was to become our inaugural Manday Movie Night, an opportunity to see stupidly macho films that ooze testosterone from the screen. And even though there was a female in our presence (looking at you Grace!), the fairer sex is allowed to attend, providing they enjoy explosions and shouting. We'll see how far it goes, but the concept behind it was buoyed by the fact that the same cinema is showing all three previous Die Hard films next week to gear people up for Die Hard 4.0. So we're going to see Die Hard (to my mind, the greatest American action film ever made - I wouldn't go as far to say the world's best as there's always Hard Boiled) on the big screen! For cheap! With Japanese subtitles! Tempted to go see Die Hard With A Vengeance as well, but we'll see. Still, it was such a wonderful sight to see I couldn't stop thinking about it all through 300, and made me fall in love with the cinema in an instant.

Anyway, so not only is there an arcade a couple of floors below, but we also got tickets for 1000 yen thanks to our student cards. Yet we haven't worked out why that is the case, as the official price list states the student price is 1500 yen. Maybe we have special gaijin treatment, or they just consider us to be in the handicapped category. Then there's the store, selling all kinds of movie merchandise and relevant programs, like the one I'm holding in the picture, and the snack counter. I got myself a beer set with chicken nuggets. Yes, a beer! To drink at the movies! And they served it to me on a tray I could bring in with me. How convenient. What's more, there's no denying that this is a Japanese cinema, from the faux-traditonal robes the staff are required to wear, to the bamboo encased in glass and zen garden beneath the floor as you head to your screen. Wacky and marvellous in equal measure.

This isn't all to poo-poo the Movix in Shijo, my regular multiplex. It's perhaps a more convenient location and is perfectly functional (the digital lens projection screening of Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End looked stunning and perhaps increased my enjoyment of the film), but the Toho Cinema just seems a little more...magical. Maybe I'd just been missing the pre-screening notices missing from the Movix, which instead has a series of short stop-motion animations featuring a couple of bunnies and their carrot nemeses. But Toho had a non-sequitorial Shrek ident (with the green ogre chancing the 'S' of 'Toho Cinemas' to resemble the 'S' of 'Shrek'), a Dolby ident featuring the recycled-rubbish stylings of Stomp (weren't they big, like, ten years ago?), and a hilariously awful song telling you not to smoke/talk/kick the chairs in front. It's not like I liked these teeny segments, but they were part of the cinema experience I'd been missing.

Of course, we got the usual trailers, with some of the worst cases of voiceover announcing I've ever heard. Gone are the hallowed vocals of Don LaFontaine, Hal Douglas and Redd Pepper, hello completely inappropriate Japanese guy! For Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, they just subtitled the original moody and mysterious voice, only to have a completely different voice cheerfully announce "HAREE POTAA to Hushichou no Kishidan!". Similarly, the trailer for The Messengers had it's creepiness completely quashed when it was announced it had been renamed "GOSUTO HAUSU!" (maybe alluding to absolutely nuts 70's J-horror Hausu). But at least we got Bruce Willis introducing the Die Hard 4.0 trailer in partial Japanese (even if he's no match for his Japanese double). However, it has to be Japan's anti-piracy "Save Our Movies" campaign which provides the biggest laughs. An overly sincere voice advises us on the dangers of piracy coupled with wonderful paintings of dodgy looking men taping films in the cinema or selling bootleg DVDs, as onlookers scream and cry in despair. Best part has to be the painting of the teenager downloading a film off the internet while his friend/brother/playmate sleeps in the bed opposite. The maniacal grin on his face and his non-mouse-clasping hand in claw-like contortion is just so over-the-top, it's hard to take seriously.

Speaking of things that are hard to take seriously, I should probably actually talk a little about 300. And yes, it is perhaps the most ridiculously overblown slice of hard men doing hard things since the Stath killed a lot of people very well in Crank. It all looks rather nifty, a lot of people die in slow-motion, and there's plenty of flesh to keep both boys and girls happy (see, Manday Movie Night doesn't discriminate). Xerxes is perhaps the silliest villain in recent memory, and sometimes it's earnestness is just plain daft, but I wouldn't have it any other way. It also makes you wish everyone nowadays went around talking in clever ye-olde-speak-style quips, and the lines from the trailer have become so instantly legendary, I was giggling in anticipation when they finally got round to saying them. The controversy surrounding it's historical inaccuracies and supposed anti-Iranian agenda was completely out of proportion - let the record show it's based on a graphic novel, not a textbook, and it's narrated from the point of view of a Spartan anyway - who I was likened to mid-way through the movie, so pretty much every scene then on, I was David Wenham (ooh-da-lally!). Hell, I deliberately didn't shave my beard off to go see it and if I didn't like it, I would have shaved it off by now...though I'm tempted to style it like Hans Gruber in readiness for Monday...sorry, Manday.

Friday, June 08, 2007

All These Things That I've Done

Here's a general update covering all the various happenings I've been involved with during the past two and a half months or so. It's a little bit like the Datablast over the credits of Bad Influence!, but this time, you don't have to set the video to record. Various pictures and information can be found by clicking on the links. So, without further ado...

UNIVERSITY
Easter Monday was all but ignored as it marked the first day of our return to Doshisha after a long spring break (Christian university or no, it's completely ignored in Japan; despite it's commercial potential and confectionary slant, sakura season's all the rage at that time). New students, new staff, new lesson format - all because Japan commences it's academic year in April as opposed to the UK's September start. Unfortunately, the enthusiasm I hoped would see me through to the end has dwindled somewhat, partly because my departure date has been confirmed (August 20th calendar kids!), but also because the lessons have been less than inspiring. There's far more of an emphasis on jumping-through-hoops regarding getting through the kanji and grammar points, and certain sensei don't seem up to scratch. That said, the cult of former cat-owner and dedicated follower of fashion, Yamamoto-sensei (author of Animacy and Reference), who takes us for Language in Japan (my only class in English, believe it or not), knows no bounds. Tuesday afternoons will not be the same without him.

Outside of class, we were treated to a lavish welcome party at a nearby hotel, which ended up with about 40 of us by the side of the Kamo river, drinking into the night and getting to know the new Californian crew. It was at the party where I was asked by the International Centre if I was willing to write a little composition in English about my experiences at Doshisha and in Kyoto, a little vox pop thing to be included in promotional materials for getting foreign students to come to the university. I happily obliged, and while what I turned in wasn't the best thing I'd ever written (there was a miniscule word limit), I got a photo shoot out of it. So, expect to see pictures of me looking happy and talking to people I'd only really just met as if we were the bestest of friends about airports around the world (well, we had to think of some conversation topic while we were being snapped). I think it's going to be published in July, and I will receive a complementary copy then. More promotional skills were needed for an evening of talks and discussions between foreign and Japanese students at Doshisha. This involved myself, Baptiste and Parn giving a 15-minute PowerPoint-aided presentation on SOAS and London in Japanese and English. I spent most of my segment reading straight from my speech (even if Baptiste and Wakita-sensei wrote about 97% of it), but I think we successfully sold the SOAS experience to the attendees - though the Thai crew upstaged us on the tomfoolery front with their presentation.


The other events of note at university were a small exhibition of the work of Bernard Faucon, mannequin photographer and inspiration behind Oh! Mikey, which included six of his collection, positioned around the atrium of one of the buildings, and the opportunity to skip classes to see the Aoi Matsuri, perhaps the most boring festival in the world, which began it's procession from the nearby Imperial Palace. But the highlight was the Doshisha vs Ritsumeikan baseball game. This was my first baseball game ever, so I couldn't miss one that was not only between rivals, but also in Japan, where it's all done a little differently. Armed with our Cheerstix™, our large block of gaijin supporters was positioned right next to the band, with cheerleaders and ouendan (male cheerleading crew, decked in faux-military or Shinto-inspired garb) to the front. We also had some loony middle-aged hardcore fan behind us, with his trouser legs rolled up and a headband worn tight, singing along to all the official chants (aided by placards) with gusto. However, when we started to sing our own chants, call out our own words of support and instigate Mexican waves, they didn't know how to react (except for a few the school students below us who happily got involved). It seems even the fun of spectator sport needs to be organised and coordinated in Japan. However, I would get up to my feet and dance every time they played a burst of Summer Medley (though most bizarre ditty must go to the use of the Police Academy theme, of all things). As for the actual game, we trounced the opposition (though we were to lose overall by the third day of play).

BIRTHDAYS
This has been something of a big birthday season, with everyone celebrating in various different ways. Parn took us all out to The LockUp in Shijo, one of a chain of horror/prison-themed food and drink establishments, which features spooky cocktails, sexy prison-warden waitresses, and, twice a night, an outbreak of crazed serial killers and monsters who terrify the customers. Highly recommended only-in-Japan silliness. Ilan's day out involved an early afternoon karaoke session (with PanPan giving it his all) and dinner at Athletix, our all-you-can-eat restaurant of choice, it would seem.


My birthday landed on the second day of the new term, the first time since I can remember that it's not been within the spring holidays. I decided we go for beer and (surprisingly agreeable) fish and chips at The Hub in Shijo-Karasuma. While it was not the most authentic 'English pub' I've been to (they were playing baseball on the telly!), done as it was like faux-American diners have all kinds of random junk on the walls, it was pleasant enough. Various amigos came and went over the course of the evening (being it a school night and all), but much confusion arose from there being another, smellier, dirty predatory gaijin-infested Hub in Sanjo. Josh turned up late as a result, as did Tal and (doing a quick Japan trip) Aurelien, who had walked up and down Shijo-dori because a simple mistake regarding underground exit numbers. Nevertheless, we ate and drank and played table football and it was good fun (even if I had very little time to enjoy all the lovely presents I was sent).

Other people with cause for celebration included Sarah (capping off a wonderfully sunny day I spent catching the last of the sakura, with drinks and jollity by the river, and Alice and Tingshan joining us), Talyn (a massive Italian meal, followed by lots of fun playing the Wii), and Anthony (a surprise party in the dormitory basement, with a great turnout, lots of food and drink, and a Smash Bros. tournament). Most recently, there was a massive gathering in celebration of Josh's 21st, again at Athletix. 66 people were in attendance (including Iwao-sensei, Matsumoto-sensei and Yonezawa-sensei), and it was an absolutely wild time. We then managed to squeeze half that number into one karaoke room, though admittedly, I sang and chose a disproportionate amount of tunes - hey, if someone else wants to sing, they gotta enter a song, right?

VISITORS
A variety of chums swung by my way during this time, and I tried my very best to see them all. Ryu was in town while I was in Tokyo (more on that later), but we managed to meet up with Tal and Anthony for arcade games a-plenty. Chris, Lucy and Thom were stopping off in Kansai in various directions, but stayed in Mukaijima with me. Risto joined me and them for a gig (more on that later) and some karaoke, and Thom and I met up with Josh for Beckham cocktails at an izakaya by Doshisha. I spent a brief afternoon with Jona, his parents, and Alice at Njio Castle. Dan was able to join us for Parn's birthday, with tales of snowboard injury and Okinawan sunburn, and, as mentioned before, I was able to meet up with Tingshan and Aurelien during their brief Kyoto stints.

And in Golden Week, I was able to welcome Rob on his visit to Japan, just as he had kindly put us up for the night in Beijing. One day was spent on an epic temple trek of east Kyoto, taking in Yasaka-jinja, Kiyomizu-dera, lunch at a wonderful little bakery/cafe, got some free hugs from Japanese students outside the art museum, Nanzenji and Hojo Garden (followed by a trek up the neighbouring mountain), then a walk down the Testugaku no Michi (Path of Philosophy) to Ginkakuji. We were suitably shagged out by the end of it. We also spent a considerable amount of time in Shijo and Sanjo, watching the annual Kamogawa Odori (with local maiko, geisha and actors performing traditional plays and dances), as well as indulging in games of pool and arcade games. We even managed to squeeze in Sanjusangen-do, one of my very favourite temples in Kyoto, and we spent another day in Nara (more on that later). It was only a few days (Derby then headed off to see Ryu in Tokyo), but it was great to see him again, and it was good to get a trial run at doing the local tour thing before Mater and Mish-Mash come.

TRIPS
Not long after my return from Thailand, I was due to meet up with the scholarship foundation again. Again, I took the shinkansen into Shinagawa and then headed to Roppongi for lunch and conversation. I felt I wasn't quite as talkative this time round, on account of having already introduced myself before, and again the sushi box defeated me, but they all laughed-out-loud when I told them that most people in the UK would like probably prefer to see Prince Charles skipped in line to the throne and Prince William made King instead. We then got our photo taken wearing hats from around the world.

While I was in Tokyo, I stayed with Mr. John Dykes, who was a true gentleman and host (as one would expect), going to great lengths to secure me bedding, taking me out for drinks and nosh, and generally keeping me entertained. I also got to meet up with Pete, who had just got back from Hanako's graduation ceremony, and we hung around Shinjuku, taking in some of the sights, before a trip to the infamous Yasukuni Shrine, and its neighbouring war museum. We then met up with Hanako in the evening, ending up in a bar several storeys up, with inner decor made to look like a cave. But of course. Even bumped into Maria in Shinjuku completely out of the blue - yay, that's all the SOAS Kyoto people met finally! But I had to go all the way to Tokyo to do it!


Another trip closer to home involved a visit to Yoshino ('The World Heritage'). We'd been told by friends already there that it was just a little bit further from Nara, but it turned out to be a hell of a lot further. Plus, it was raining a lot and by the time Baptiste and I got there, the others were just about to leave. We pressed on regardless, and took the long winding bus ride up the mountains to reach the key vantage points. Unfortunately, the damp conditions somewhat reduced the overall splendour of the sakura, but it was still worth visiting just to get out into the open air (though we despaired at the degree of mountain destruction and polluting fumes spilling out of factory chimneys we saw en route).

And I also took Rob for a great day out in Nara. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and the deer were, for the most part, sleeping. Of course, the Todai-ji was the main port of call, but we managed to cram in a sizeable amount of sight-seeing in a short space of time. We found a little bar down an alley and up some steps for a quiet drink before a return visit to my favourite okinomiyaki restaurant, which was just as good as I remembered it being.

GIGS
Chris, Lucy and Thom arrived in town the evening I was going to see Hoover's Ooover play a gig, so they joined me and Risto at the Mojo venue on Shijo-dori. The supporting acts were a mixed bag, and the lack of audience reaction (barely registering an applause in between tracks) was perhaps indicitive of this. To be fair, openers Decotoria and similar rock group Automat were fun, if unoriginal, and Rihiko Kurapu (careful how you say that) provided cute acoustic fluff. But by god, we were not prepared for the tragedy that was Splash Lover (I refuse to go to the trouble of putting the star they write in the middle of their name). Fronted by an impossibly irritating girl with all the sincerity of a children's TV presenter and filled with instantly forgettable twee guitar pop, they make Busted and McFly look like death metal. Chris and Lucy felt compelled to leave until it was over, while Risto, Thom and myself stayed to witness the full extent of the horror, which involved a bizarre telephone conversation between the lead-singer and her hand, and desperate goading of the audience into performing the kind of choreographed hand waves and dance routines that would make even the Wiggles tell you to go away and die. And what was worse, the everyone lapped it up! Everyone except us. Anyway, Hoover's Ooover finally appeared and made us all feel better, playing tracks from Art.No.5 and their latest release, as well as the wonderful Collection. They were very upbeat, jokey and talkative, and after the show, I got to meet the drummer and guitarist, bought the new album, and told them I'd first seen them on Adam and Joe Go Tokyo, which made them very happy indeed. Afterwards, we met up with Baptiste, and then headed to a bar round the corner called Yikey. It was notable for the area at the back we sat in, which was decked out as if we were in a 70's record producer's lounge, with the walls covered in feathers, leading to much discussion on what kind of avian holocaust could have taken place there.

April Fool's Day was marked with a trip to Osaka Namba Hatch, to see the legendary Cornelius live. His Fantasma album got me into Japanese music in the first place, so I was incredibly excited to finally see him in concert. However, I was a little worried that, being as it was billed the "Sensuous Synchronised Show", it would rely predominantly on his most recent work, which I didn't like as much as his earlier stuff. But there was no need to be concerned, as Keigo Oyamada and his assembled group performed tracks from the length of his solo work, accompanied by the visually arresting music videos he's well known for. Even then, it was fascinating to watch the latest tracks being performed live, as I came to appreciate just how complex and creative they were. Oyamada is quite a shy figure, so there was little audience interaction at first, bar a bit of creative videoplay, filming and 'sampling' the audience. But as the gig went on, he seemed to settle into it more, and then came the surprise of pulling a member of the audience out onto the stage. Shocked and stunned, the lucky punter then got to play the theremin, hand aided by Cornelius, during Brand New Season, and then received a lei (Hawaiian garland) for his troubles. Towards the end, the audience also got to play around with a noisebox of some kind, and when it all came to a close, Oyamada looked truly pleased and appreciative.

A few weeks later, I had an all-night party double bill. First there was a return visit to Kyoto Metro for Second Royal's 7th Anniversary party, as well as celebrating the release of Halfby's new single, Star Track. Unfortunately, this time I was Billy No-Mates, but it was probably for the best, as I was disappointed this time round. Though the DJ's were the same, they played very little of their own material, instead focusing on predominantly British indie rock, which isn't especially danceable. More to the point, I knew virtually none of it, which left me feeling super-inadequate as the Japanese attendees sung along to all the words. In English. Still, I got a badge, a CD and a T-shirt for coming, and the visuals were all pretty, so it wasn't all bad. The next evening was Mukaijima's Welcome Party for the new residents, which was much the same deal as before - food, drink, performances, bingo instead of a true-or-false quiz, followed by basement clubbing. Again, plenty of non-Mukaijima friends showed up, and while I didn't stay until the end this time, or follow the mini-crowd that went on to the World club in town for the remainer of the night/morning, it was still a wonderful way to waste one's time.

And towards the end of May was my third time seeing Polysics live; London, Nagoya and now Osaka, down Amerika-mura way. An unitiated Risto joined me on what was a very rainy evening, as we headed to the Big Cat, the largest venue I'd seen them in (though still not exactly massive, and still located in a department store). Again, it was a riotous affair, with much moshing, sweating and even crowd surfing (though they kept throwing the surfers back into the audience when they reached the front, which wasn't especially helpful). I even lost my trouser button in the chaos, with only the clinging persperation keeping everything in check. The setlist was a bit too reliant on all the fast noisy numbers, with little chance to catch your breath in between tracks. But most of the songs had a gimmick to keep it interesting, be it cheerleader pom-poms, vocoders, beer drinking, gas-mask wearing, or strapping a synth to one's waist for the (third if I recall) encore. The new tracks from Karate House played really well with the older material, especially Akai Master, Shizuka is a Machine Doctor and Zubaman, which bore a brand new chant to join the likes of "Toisu!" and "Polysics or DIE!!!!": "Oya kara Ko he!" (literally, "From parent to child!") - doesn't make any sense, but Polysics rarely does. They were definitely filming this gig, even so much as Risto and I got to scream into the camera post-gig, so hopefully I'll pop up on another live DVD release.

ENTERTAINMENT
And if gigs weren't enough to keep me entertained, I've found other ways to do the trick. I finally bought myself an Ice Blue Nintendo DS Lite of my very own, with the local Tsutaya having just got a new stock in for cheaper than I've seen them going for second hand elsewhere. Only 16,800 yen (about £70). No games of my own as of yet, but I've been borrowing and enjoying Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney from Baptiste, and we've been having 'Tetris Tuesdays' at Doshisha during lunch break. Oh, and I also got an electronic dictionary, but that's not especially interesting. Also, the latest season of 24 and the first series of Heroes came to an end. The former was perhaps the worst series yet, floundering in a puddle of it's own ludicrousness after such a gut-wrenchingly amazing start, and ultimately being really boring, something 24 should never be. The changes promised for Day 7 (a full week) by the producers better be spectacular. Meanwhile, Heroes has just been getting better and better. Yes, it has it's cheesy moments and irritating characters, but it crams more action, fun, geeky references and plot revelations per episode than a whole series of Lost (oh, boo-hoo to you too!).

Contrary to popular belief, I have gotten out of the house to have some fun too, though this also means sitting in a darkened room staring at a screen, but a bigger room, with a bigger screen, and lots of strangers. Doshisha screened Flags Of Our Fathers and Letters From Iwo Jima on subsequent weeks, which were both very well put-together and totally engrossing - there's not much that can be said about war that hasn't been said before, but it was still an experience worth having. Big blockbuster threequels Spider-Man 3 and Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End have received pretty nasty knocks from critics and fans alike, but I actually enjoyed them both quite a lot. Okay, so both were rather messily made and convoluted, but I thought they delivered what they set out to achieve pretty well. Sunshine was a strange beast indeed, visually far more arresting than Spidey and Pirates, and at a fraction of the cost. Highly derivative and a bit doolally, yes, but it created a sense of impending doom that made it unbelievably tense to watch. And just recently, Japan finally released Borat. For the small few who haven't seen it, ignore the hype - it's not the funniest film ever made, nor does it even reveal anything particularly scandalous about America (nothing could top the "In My Country There Is Problem" sequence from the TV show). To say that it doesn't make a mockery of the Kazahkstan people is a lie, and to say that it makes a mockery of it's subjects is also a lie. But what it does is deliver some very funny set-pieces, pushes the boundaries of comedy, and confirms Sacha Baron Cohen as quite an exceptional creator of comic characters. And I think the upcoming Bruno movie will not be quite as morally dubious or divisive as Borat has been.

And as for actual socialising, I've been bowling quite a bit, twice for real and once on the Wii. I managed a score of 226 first time round, which was pretty stunning. But when I came to put it into genuine practice with various Gaidai chums, it took me three games to get into the swing of it. Finally, I managed a score just over 150, which must be a personal best of mine (not exactly challenging the pros though). And while I didn't equal that score the next time I played, at a big foreign/Japanese student get-together, our team came third overall, scooping a mini box of Pretz sticks each. Huzzah! I then got drunk on screwdrivers. On a Sunday night and all. Tsk tsk. Other nights out involved much karaoke (I'll miss you when I'm gone!), yakiniku and hanging by Sanjo bridge (or in one case, underneath it thanks to an unexpected and spectacular lightning storm and downpour, on the evening of the Sun God Festival of all things).

END.

Friday, June 01, 2007

Spring 2007 > Thailand > Part IV

REMAINS TO BE SEEN

After a long day of animal magic, our last day in Chiang Mai was for relaxational purposes only. Our time had come to end at our current hotel, so we moved into a smaller one closer into town. It was just a short trip from there to a little massage place where we could spend the afternoon getting our bodies attended to in various ways. While some of our party went for the traditional Thai massage (involving the kinds of contortion and pressure one would expect from a boa constrictor's embrace), my sun-sizzled flaky flesh was still a nuisance, so I decided to opt for the body-scrub. I lay down on the table/bed and my masseuse began to apply the warm sesame paste all over my skin, leaving me smelling like a baker's oven. At first, it felt quite nice, but as the paste began to cool, it felt really slimy and gooey. After I'd been coated, I washed it all off in the shower, then returned for the customary oil-rubbing session. It wasn't perhaps as relaxing as last time though, mainly because Ilan in the adjacent partition was giggling throughout, and when I lay face down the second time, I got my knackers in a twist, so to speak.

Moving swiftly on, we retired to our new lodgings to put our feet up, and I flicked on the television just as Back to the Future: Part II was getting underway (Marty was looking at the futuristic Texaco). And I watched it right through to the end. Man, that's a good movie, and it's even better when you stumble across it and just watch it then and there. Plus, you get to visit the past, the (then) present, an alternate present and the future! All in one film! Wonderful. It finished just in time for us to go to a Thai style yakiniku (meat grilling) place, which was a vast open-walled hall packed to the rafters. It was hot, noisy and smoky, but lots of fun. A lot got sizzled, but there were plenty of other ready-cooked dishes to keep us occupied (and full). Afterwards, we hit a bar for drinks and a little bit of bopping (though the R'n'B and the rather bland live band weren't especially compelling). We got a few supplies in readiness for our early drive the next day and called it a night.

And a long drive it was to. Utenshu-san had been a very useful asset to our team, even if she was a little lonely sometimes. One thing that was made clear was that she was a lesbian, and quite a butch one at that, and she did sometimes feel a little stigmatised about it, particularly regarding the relationship she had with Ilan in that they had to share rooms all the time, but this wasn't really the case. We were just never sure how much to involve her in our activities, as I'm not really used to having a driver in my everyday life. And as it was essentially a holiday with friends, it seemed a bit weird accomodating someone else you didn't really know, and also couldn't really communicate with due to the language barrier. But we tried, and by the end of the trip, I think we were all quite chummy. However, this drive did end up with us getting pulled over for speeding on the motorway and her getting fined a measly amount of change. It was a little bit of excitement on an otherwise unenventful journey.

Our destination was within an area that used to be the home to Thailand's original ancient capital. We waited for Parn's father outside the restaurant we'd be eating at, observing a pair of gibbons in a cage swinging about and playing. Gotta love them apes and monkeys. We were eating with various members of the local police constabulary, as we'd gotten used to on our Thai travels, and it was a rather delcious lunch if I recall. It wasn't the nicest thing there, but I got to eat some rather spiky, crispy fried little fish, caught in the river the restuarant overlooked, whole. Parn's pater took over driving duty now, and we made brief stops at some of the ruins at Si Satchanalai and Sukhothai, which were pretty ruined indeed, but I was surprised at the freedom we had to walk around them and climb their stairs. It would have made a perfect location for another stop-motion fight sequence as we had snapped back in the rocky valley and the reservoir, but time was short and the sun was blazing above. Back in the car, we continued our rather epic drive back to Bangkok, and although we got a little lost on the way (and passed some incredibly gaudy coaches that would make even Elton John blush), we managed to get back in time for a slap-up meal at The Sizzler. Tsssss.


JOURNEY'S END


The rest of our time in Bangkok (and Thailand, for that matter) is a little bit of a blur, having not documented it particularly well. And I'm sure there was one day we went to a mall which we had to leave because of a blackout, though beforehand I had scored a personal best at Point Blank (come to think of it, this was surely in Chiang Mai, but when and where, I can't remember). We spent much of the next day souvenir-hunting, eating and packing. One evening, we met up with Parn's old school friends and headed to a hip-hop club in town. We got their pretty early so we could bag ourselves some seats, and sat their drinking endless whiskey-cokes for serveral hours. The venue filled up but we stayed put, save for the odd necessary lavvy trip, and drunk more and more. By the time the driver came to pick us up, we were all already starting to regret the excesses we had reached, and by the time we got home, my head was pounding and spinning at the same time. I knew I didn't want to go to sleep in that state, so I tried to wake myself up before I drifted off. So I took a cold shower. Twice. It sort of worked a bit, but I felt so rotten. The most drunk I'd been before was the night out with the Johars in July last year, which culminated in us crashing a 30th birthday party for someone we didn't know. At all. But this time round, I didn't feel happy drunk but ill drunk instead. The next morning, we all stayed in bed and watched the DVD Baptiste bought in China of one of those 'funny adverts from around the world' style shows. Other than that, much of it was spent packing and getting everything in order for our return trip to Japan.


We left early in the morning of March 11th. We got into Beijing's aiport around breakfast time, and the officials yet again impressed with their incompetence. Knowing full well a flight was coming in, the staff at the transfer desk did their level best to be as unprepared as could be. We were perhaps second in line, and the desk jockey took our passes and began making phone calls and such. We waited and waited and waited - it soon became clear that they were all processing the passes of a large group of Japanese tourists behind us, who had all buggered off and moved to the next step. And they pretty much processed everyone else behind us before us too. They unceremoniously slapped stickers on us for reasons I can't imagine, other than to perhaps remind them we were indeed passengers and customers of the airline. At last we were cleared to get on the next flight and we lined up at the back of the queue to jump through another hoop, with yet another x-ray/metal detector jobbie. It all made little administrative sense. As we waited for our next departure, I went to get a little brekkie with my remaining currency. In front were a couple of Japanese businessmen after some coffee from the two Chinese vendors. And how did they communicate with each other? With broken English of course! Okay, so it's not too surprising when you think about it, but it still was an interesting spectacle, how members of two nations with such close ties resort to some cockamaney derivative limey-speak to say what they want to say.

We finally arrived home at about 1pm, and went our separate ways. Just before I hopped onto the train back into Kyoto, I stopped at a little vending stand for a drink and some bite-size Snickers snacks. As I ordered in Japanese, the nice lady who worked there was surprised to hear me speak Japanese and I told her about how I was studying the language at university in Kyoto. She smiled and gave me a "Ganbate!" ("Go for it!"). It was like I had just arrived at the start of my year. Ah, Japan! How I've missed your Kentucky Fried Chicken and your sparkling whale-free seas.

And that's that! Remember to check out more pics at Parn's facebook, Baptiste's Chiang Mai and Sukhothai sets and my Ancient Ruins and Miscellaneous Thailand sets.

And next comes the small task of giving you a rundown of everything that's happened in the past three months or so! And I'm going to try and do it all in one post, and keep it brief. I hope!

Friday, May 18, 2007

Spring 2007 > Thailand > Part III

THE 309 STEPS

After a slow and lazy morning, we packed up and got ready to make the three hour car journey to Chiang Mai, Thailand's second city. On the way into town, there was a sign for the local English language radio station, named TITS Radio - I can't work out if they were being funny or clueless. We picked up Parn's girlfriend, Am, and then met with various family members for a whopping meal at a restaurant owned by a famous Thai singer, with photos of her adorning all the walls. And there was a guy upstairs playing a bit of traditional music from North Thailand. Despite the midges and mosquitos, it was a very nice setting.

Soon after, we took a stroll down the big night market, with assorted souvenirs, snacks and services up for grabs. Though the market itself was quite a wonderful thing, it attracted so many tourist punters, I felt sorry for the Thai stall-owners. Oh, of course, tourism is where the money's made, but someone should really do a study on the social anthropology of back-packers, because all variations on the theme were represented there: the bum-bags and bulges, the lads and ladettes, the friends of the earth, the middle-aged last-ditch sun and spirituality-seekers... It seems visiting a foreign country gives people a license to wear ridiculous clothes (which would, however, look fine and fitting on the local population), forego basic hygiene and act like a ponce. Whenever I travel, seeing fellow tourists (especially Western ones) almost always gives me an uncomfortable feeling, as it's like seeing a mirror image of yourself, except more like one you'd find in a fun house, contorted and twisted by the travel experience.

But enough self-loathing - I purchased a few postcards from a nice local photographer, while Ilan, Parn, Am and Baptiste all browsed and bought various nick-nacks. Then, it was time for us to crash at our hotel, which was far grander than any of us could have predicted; again, we felt we were far from worthy of the luxury being bestowed upon us. Hell, we wouldn't have minded even if the place stunk of durians (but there was a sign in the foyer forbidding them, so we were safe).

The next morning gave us the opportunity to try out the yummy hotel breakfast buffet and watch some godawful television. Baptiste and I despaired at the hollow use of English bandied about by the Asian TV networks, especially one documentary we were treated to about a Korean pop star called M - the inane voice-over built him up as if he were the second coming, and how running about in the sand for his album cover, choreographing a new dance routine or writing almost all his singles himself were like some incredible gifts he would bestow upon his fans as thanks for their undying support. I'm sure he's a lovely guy, but the media-managing ass-kissery was too much to stomach that morning. But more on tummy upsets later.

We took the long winding mountain road outside of Chiang Mai, up to Doi Suthep Temple. Apparently, Chiang Mai university students would have to run all the way up the road as part of their initiation ceremony. Can't say I'd want to join them. Indeed, the turning left to right started to make Ilan a little car sick, and she soon became quite attached (read: addicted) to something equivalent to a Vicks vapour stick to soothe her dizziness (even if it was actually designed to unblock stuffy noses). Once we arrived, we took a look at the 309 naga-adorned steps to the temple and thought it would be a fun idea to race to the top. Despite the intense heat and bright sunlight. Of course, we would have to do our best to avoid the other stair-climbers and mutli-lingual begging kids, but Baptiste, Ilan and myself thought we'd give it a go. Probably a big mistake. Ilan got a head start, and then Baptiste and I charged on ahead. We were quick to overtake Ilan, and we were neck-and-necking it for the next 100 steps or so, but then I took the lead. However, about 200 steps in, I slowed to a virtual crawl, my stiff legs taking each step one by one with gradually slacking pace. Concerned Mr. B was just behind, I pressed on and reached the top, only to see that I was in fact a great deal ahead. Head pounding, legs aching and pores sweating, I staggered into the conveniently located shop to get bottles of water for the competitors, then slouched in the shade to await the rest of the party. Baptiste showed up and quickly headed to the lavvy for a quick vomit and Ilan, Am and Parn arrived together at a more intelligent pace. We got our entry tickets (well, the Thai nationals didn't have to, of course, and Ilan managed to get by with being Thai yet again) and proceeded inside.

No sooner had we entered than I had to sit down - I hadn't recovered quite as much as I had thought, and was feeling quite dizzy and sick. At least it was a peaceful environment to recuperate, except for the occassional soft-ring of one of the numerous bells that surrounded the inner sanctum. Behind the temple was a wonderful purple blossom tree in front of a balcony ledge that would have offered a view to Chiang Mai if it were not for the fog - instead, it created a surreal experience of being so high up that we were surrounded by clouds. Inside the temple itself was a wonderful gold stepe and a variety of Buddhist sculptures. Am took the lead and gave us each candles and flowers which we carried as we walked around the stepe 3 times, reciting a different name to ourselves as we did. There were also different Buddhist statues to represent which day of the week you were born on, and one of those stick-shaky fortune telling things. I've forgotten the specifics of the corresponding slip that told of my future (though I remember it being pretty positive), but it was the number that struck me - 23. Now, I've always had a 'thing' about the number twenty-three, before I became aware of all the discordian belief theories and the Jim Carrey movie. And it had followed me to Thailand in a situation involving the telling of my future. Simple coincidence, or greater forces at work? Uhhhhh...the former. Or is it? Anyway, just as we were about to leave, we were sprung upon by a couple of local chancers who confronted Ilan, and this time her Thai appearance went against her, as they started speaking to her in Thai, apparently criticising her for not wearing suitable attire (even though they had ignored the skimpier Western tourists a few metres away). We upped and went with little hesitation.



Back in town, we stopped off for a big load of ice cream, but Ilan still wasn't feeling too well from the drive (and probably the stair race) and Baptiste made a mess on his arm and plopped much of a scoop on the floor like some excitable baby. However, there was then an unexpected turn of events in that Am's cousin had invited us to his house and then was to take us all out for dinner at the Riverside restaurant. Unfortunately, we were all very tired and suffering from varying degrees of illness. I'd kind of had enough of Thai food at that point, but it turned out while I was glancing at the menu at the tasty steaks and burgers, we'd already had our food ordered for us - another load of Thai dishes I couldn't stomach, plus a lot of beer to go with it. It was an exceedingly generous gesture, but we weren't in the mood, and the language barrier made it even harder to express at least something beyond a simple 'thanks'. Originally, the plan had been to stay and watch the live music, but the band didn't start playing until we had finished eating and we couldn't see them playing anyway. Basically, we didn't mean to be rude but that was clearly the impression we gave, and it didn't sit very well with any of us. It was a case of misplaced kindness, catching us at a bad time and not letting us have a say on what we wanted to do on our holiday. We called it a night around nine, but stayed up for hours in the hotel yakking away as we often did.


PACHYDERMATA AND SQUAMATA ENCOUNTERS

It was an early wake-up call for us all to take a trip to the Maesa Elephant Camp outside the city. However, by the time we got there, there wasn't going to be another show for a good few hours, so we decided to buy our tickets for later and backtrack to Mae Rim Snake Farm. Loud hip-hop and dance music played from the speakers and a giant billboard advertised it as being home to an anaconda wrestler as the star attraction. It later turned out he wasn't there at the moment as he had left with a number of specimens to be involved with the new Rambo flick, John Rambo, which was shooting in Thailand at the time. And having seen the latest preview, it seems Rambo is indeed spending his time tending to a snake farm of his own, before going back into action and exploding Burmese troops into big splats of grue. Anyway, we had a brief look around at the variety of serpents on offer, got briefly concerned by an empty cage, marvelled at the writhing tangled twists in the snake pit, and felt a little bit sad looking into the rabbit and chicken cages - luckily, we weren't around for feeding time, but we were just in time for the show.


The format of the show consisted of one guy pissing off a bunch of snakes while another commentated in a mix of Thai and hilarious English (of which I will add quotes to the description of the show). And scaring the audience witless. All of this took place in a little circular area, but the act would frequently be brought right up to the audience. Whether they liked it or not (and we were sat within easy reach). First off were three cobras, which he would tease and taunt until they made a go for him. "Oh, be careful Snakeman! Wawawawa BAN! Wawawawa BAN! Wow, Snakeman! Watch out Snakeman!" At one point, he even gave a cobra a tender kiss on the head. "Hey, he kiss the snake! Everybody take picture! Maybe he's homosexual!" He then proceeded to 'milk' the snake for venom and offer it to members of the audience if they wanted a sip. "It's not Johnnie Walker Blue Label!" Next were a trio of smaller snakes, which was a similar deal as before, except it culminated in him holding all three in his hands, with the neck of one in his mouth (if you can imagine a snake having a neck, considering they kind of are all neck). This was followed by the jumping snake. They made a big show of trying to get it out of the box, as if it were going to leap out at any moment. Then suddenly, something was flung in our direction, landing just by Ilan, causing her to let out a very long scream that did not die, even when it was revealed to be just a piece of rope. The jumping snake leapt about, latching on to the snake-wrangler's pantalons at one point, and even managed to slither out of the mini arena, towards the audience, a number of times. At one point, the wrangler hypnotised the snake and made it lie on it's back, before taking it round the audience for all to touch. It was indeed very still and calm, reminding me of the old chicken and chalk hypnosis trick. "Hey, don't worry if he bites - you die in 30 minutes, but hospital 20 minutes away!" Finally was the python ("Peetan!"), which offered up it's services to wrap around people's necks, and Parn happily obliged, as he also did having a smaller snake wrap around his head in laurel-esque fashion - not that Olly'd approve (see what I did there?). It was the kind of experience that flaunted so many safety measures that you wouldn't be able to get away with it in other parts of the world - but I guess it was all the more thrilling for it.

It was now about time to return to the elephant camp. Utenshu-san (our driver, if you recall) left us to go get some lunch first as, according to Parn, she hadn't had much of a breakfast. Okay, I thought, followed by WH-WH-WHAT? I'd been there at the breakfast buffet and she had loads! Ah, never mind. While we waited around, we got to look at some elephants! Elephants are pretty cool - like giant deformed cows really, and the smell of them (and their leavings) made me think of Somerset. Utenshu-san soon rejoined us and we were all set to go on a half-hour elephant ride around the park on top of the beasts. It was a little awkward sitting on a bench perched on a pachyderm rocking from side to side with your feet kind of nestling on it's neck with the 'driver' on the head. Not the most practical method of travel, but certainly one of the most fun I've been on. We went up and down hill, and into a little creek for a bit of splashing and trunk squirting. But by the end, I had a rather soggy, sweaty bum, which was a little unpleasant (why did I even mention it here?). Plus, my elephant was called Poo Billy.

We finished in time for a Cornetto and for the elephant show. An initial parade of fifteen or so nellies of different sizes and ages welcomed the audience with bows, squeaks and trunk waving. Then came the performances, which ranged from simple instructions (like kneeling, picking up hats, doing funny dances and such) to more complex displays, in particular the football penalty shoot-out and the art showcase, as the trunked-ones painted a variety of images which were quickly snapped up by those prepared to pay a hefty price tag. At the end, we all got a chance to take a picture with the smaller ones, which left a big patch of slobber on my trouser leg. At least I didn't have to pose with any of the male elephants which were visibly 'excited' during the final parade.


We had a late lunch at the park (which Utenshu-san also helped herself to) and returned to the hotel to rest. Come dinner time, we left Baptiste behind to sleep in front of the TV, on the French language channel, and ended up at a little restaurant by a different night market close by. After spaghetti for lunch, it was time to have another Western dish to continue my Thai food break and I chose the chicken cordon bleu (which was, according to the menu, "raped in bread crums"). Suitably satisfied, we did a little market shopping before returning to the hotel, where we ate strawberries I'd bought, dipped in sugar, from a brandy glass (there's only so much serving preparation one can do in a hotel room).

For photos, check out my Parn's Facebook, Baptiste's Chiang Mai set, and, of course, my own sets for Doi Suthep Temple and Snakes and Elephants.

Coming Soon: my adventure reaches its end - goodybe to Chiang Mai, and return to Bangkok. Plus! Sesame massage! Ancient ruins! Horrible drunkenness!