// from here, the trail leads in all directions
"I want to live ever as to derive my satisfactions and inspirations from the commonest events, every‑day phenomena, so that what my senses hourly perceive, my daily walk, the conversation of my neighbours, may inspire me, and I may dream of no heaven but that which lies about me."
‑ Henry David Thoreau
A wise woman once told me that to wander is a good choice. My instincts agreed, so for the first time I set out on an adventure with no clear goal, not knowing what I hoped to learn.
When one wanders the world, one discovers not the world, but oneself. The act of peeling back the layers of the places I've seen and the people I've met has made me more calm, more tolerant, kinder and happier and more pliant. I worry less and I contemplate rather than think. I am more brave, less wary but more aware, harder to irritate, less materialistic (but I still like stuff), more of a dreamer but better tethered to the foundation of reality. I have far less direction but am far more certain of the path I am treading.
In my time away I've missed four things; the silent majesty of my land, the nurturing fellowship of my people, and the deep myriad colours of a life lived among them. Also, my washing machine.
Over the coming years I know that I will leave these things behind time and again, to travel further and further into the many worlds that make up Earth. I want to see the Amazon, Russia and especially Siberia, maybe India, Bolivia, Peru, return to see more of Morocco. I'll wander through China and Japan and tiny countries whose name nobody knows. I'll meet strange people and speak in strange tongues and try strange fruit. I'll unearth more and more of the world's ancient mysteries to compare their different hues, never forgetting that they are all made of the same dust. I will gradually perfect the art of travelling, but I will always come back.
Travel is an incredible thing; it answers questions buried so deeply within you that you never thought to ask them. Since I was young, I have looked to the horizon wondering where life's greatest adventures lie. After wandering the earth for all this time I finally have the answer;
life's greatest adventures are found at home.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
cold sake from a jar
Tokyo lived up to very few expectations. It wasn't a huge culture shock, there weren't crazy little cosplay girls dressed up in the streets, there wasn't a crazily busy atmosphere, but there were some surprises.
The first impression of Tokyo is the opposite to what one expects. On arrival I was immediately struck by a few things; the subway system is huge and expensive, the food is of extremely high quality and the city is strangely quiet for a place so populated.
Tokyo is one of the most densely populated places in the world. It boasts a famous intersection through which three million travel each day and a subway station that sees so many commuters that conductors have to push people into the trains like rugby players. Yet the place is so quiet that it's eerie at first. Horns are not honked unless in absolute necessity. People talk quietly or not at all. The Japanese are sweet and helpful and terribly polite of course. They look shocked, confused and slightly terrified when someone crosses the road without waiting for the little green walking man. Being surrounded by so many tiny little polite people made me feel like a big galumphing elephant.
I spent my time in Tokyo wandering through each suburb, marvelling at how distinct they all were. Harajuku is where the cosplayers hang out - young people who dress up with a lot of face paint and crazy clothes. The locals complained about them so there are very few these days but for a few years they were a major tourist attraction. Teenage girls shop in Harajuku's streets, surrounded by cute little animals and pink stuff and street signs that look like bags of lollies.
Roppongi is for the nightlife, the high class shopping and the sushi. (There are parts of Tokyo where sushi cannot be found.) Shibuya and Shinjuku are busy, neon lit, full of shopping centres for more young girls and streets full of cars that all behave themselves. Asakusa is the old Tokyo, harking back to the Edo period, old temples and shrines, traditional restaurants, streets that lack skyscrapers and radiate an aura of calm. Tokyo's fake food street is also here - the city is famous for its fake food which acts as a menu in most restaurants. In fact, fake food chefs complete a two year diploma before they are allowed to sculpt these perfect renditions of a restaurant's meals.
The Craig boys (Jason and Jonathan) joined me for the last two days of my stay and together we explored the delights of cold sake from a jar, eel gizzards, plum pancakes, the tuna auction at Tokyo's fish markets, the Soy Bean Festival to celebrate the end of winter and, most importantly, the necessity of wearing a surgical type mask over one's mouth in the interest of fitting in.
Tokyo is a place that cannot be discovered by a white face in a short time. Stories abound of locals taking foreign friends on strange tours of underground sex clubs, secret and ancient restaurants, deep into the culture of Tokyo that can be glimpsed at every corner but never focussed on for long. Like the rest of Japan, there is a feeling of strange magic surging under all the polite bows and quiet feet.
The first impression of Tokyo is the opposite to what one expects. On arrival I was immediately struck by a few things; the subway system is huge and expensive, the food is of extremely high quality and the city is strangely quiet for a place so populated.
Tokyo is one of the most densely populated places in the world. It boasts a famous intersection through which three million travel each day and a subway station that sees so many commuters that conductors have to push people into the trains like rugby players. Yet the place is so quiet that it's eerie at first. Horns are not honked unless in absolute necessity. People talk quietly or not at all. The Japanese are sweet and helpful and terribly polite of course. They look shocked, confused and slightly terrified when someone crosses the road without waiting for the little green walking man. Being surrounded by so many tiny little polite people made me feel like a big galumphing elephant.
I spent my time in Tokyo wandering through each suburb, marvelling at how distinct they all were. Harajuku is where the cosplayers hang out - young people who dress up with a lot of face paint and crazy clothes. The locals complained about them so there are very few these days but for a few years they were a major tourist attraction. Teenage girls shop in Harajuku's streets, surrounded by cute little animals and pink stuff and street signs that look like bags of lollies.
Roppongi is for the nightlife, the high class shopping and the sushi. (There are parts of Tokyo where sushi cannot be found.) Shibuya and Shinjuku are busy, neon lit, full of shopping centres for more young girls and streets full of cars that all behave themselves. Asakusa is the old Tokyo, harking back to the Edo period, old temples and shrines, traditional restaurants, streets that lack skyscrapers and radiate an aura of calm. Tokyo's fake food street is also here - the city is famous for its fake food which acts as a menu in most restaurants. In fact, fake food chefs complete a two year diploma before they are allowed to sculpt these perfect renditions of a restaurant's meals.
The Craig boys (Jason and Jonathan) joined me for the last two days of my stay and together we explored the delights of cold sake from a jar, eel gizzards, plum pancakes, the tuna auction at Tokyo's fish markets, the Soy Bean Festival to celebrate the end of winter and, most importantly, the necessity of wearing a surgical type mask over one's mouth in the interest of fitting in.
Tokyo is a place that cannot be discovered by a white face in a short time. Stories abound of locals taking foreign friends on strange tours of underground sex clubs, secret and ancient restaurants, deep into the culture of Tokyo that can be glimpsed at every corner but never focussed on for long. Like the rest of Japan, there is a feeling of strange magic surging under all the polite bows and quiet feet.
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