Tokyo - Fujikyu

A snow capped mountain glowers down on you as ash rises from a pit of flames and falls on you like snow. There’s a smell of burning meat in the air and your toes are frozen, your face is frozen, your hands are frozen as you shuffle along in the crowd. A booming sound of rushing wind rends the air above your head, there are scraping noises and clacking sounds all around you coming as loud and fast as machine guns, people are jostling each other and you can smell their fear as keenly as you can feel your own. Everyone is jittery with round, frightened eyes and as the next boom sails above you, the whole crowd reacts as one. Above all there are the screams; a constant burble of terror running under and over all of the other sights, smells and sounds that assail you on this dark and grey morning.

You are at Fujikyu Theme Park, standing in the shadow of Mount Fuji amongst four of the world’s most terrifying rollercoasters, and you are running on a mixture of pure adrenaline and soba noodles. 

Fujikyu (or Fuji-Q) is host to many rides and chief among them are the “Big Four Rollercoasters”. 

• Do-Dodonpa, the fastest accelerating rollercoaster in the world, from 0-180km/h in 1.56 seconds, and responsible for the loud booming/rushing/screaming sound that you hear every ten or so minutes
• Eejanaika, has the (equal) most inversions/rotations in the world, at fourteen
• Takabisha, the world’s steepest rollercoaster at 121 degrees
• and Fujiyama, which when built in 1996 was the world’s tallest, steepest AND fastest rollercoaster!

Each rollercoaster has its own theme song which makes the long queue - for us around half an hour each - a bit more fun as everyone joins in on the singing.

The theme park was high on the boys’ list but low on mine, but of course I didn’t want to miss out so I joined them on each of the four. We decided to start off nice and easy with the fast one because while fast, it’s also fairly straight with only one loop, and quite short. So we stood in line for 40 or so minutes and then when we popped out at the top we realised…we had made a wrong turn and were in fact about to jump on Takabisha, the world’s steepest rollercoaster. This was the one I had flatly refused to go on first and was not even sure I’d go on at all. But after 40 minutes in line I was too invested to back down so we held our breath and jumped on. And held our breath some more…and some more…first we were twisted and turned in pitch blackness before emerging into daylight and finding ourselves being pulled up and up and up and UP almost to the very clouds. It takes a lot of lung to scream as loud as I was intending to so by the time we finally reached the top of the 90 degree climb I was just about to burst. We were looking directly at the sky AND we were in the front of the carriage! At the top there is a pause, just long enough for the panic to really set in, and then the carriage rotates and drops, zooms, flies to the ground the twists, picks up and circles around and around. My stomach caught up with me somewhere around the third loop-the-loop and instead of screaming I was laughing, Travis and Sterling laughing beside me, and the people behind us screaming for all they were worth.

One down - three to go!

Do-Dodonpa was next. The sound as you stand beside the tracks and watch the people before you head into the tunnel and then burst into hyperdrive is incredibly loud. I had to make a tough choice; hold on for dear life or stick my fingers in my ears. I chose the latter and chose well - no need to hold on when the g-forces alone are enough to keep you pinned to your seat. We rode into the pitch dark of the tunnel (again) and then sat, fingers in ears, to the tune of the Japanese countdown from three to one. There was a burst of sound and a burst of light and we were shot like a bullet through the tunnel, along the track and into another tunnel of brightly coloured lights that flashed past like something out of Star Wars. Then a simple, single loop and back around to the end of the very quick, very short ride. Exhilarating!

Fujiyama was after that. At four minutes it’s quite a long ride and about halfway through I started to think “geez, this is a bit much”. There were a lot of warnings about high blood pressure, low blood pressure and old age and at that point in the ride, I could see why. My heart rate was certainly up! 

After that we took a break and had some lunch (brave or stupid to eat at this point?) and then I took a nice leisurely ride on the Ferris Wheel to catch some snaps of Mt Fuji while the boys went on to Eejanaika, the one with all the spins. This one I had firmly put on my “will not ride list” but when we met up the boys were so wide-eyed with laughter and excitement that they were keen to go on again, and they begged me to come with them. Oh well, I suppose if you’re going to die you might as well be with the people you love, right? So I joined them. 

At the end of the queue we were asked to take off our shoes - things can fly off this one so you ride barefoot. We were strapped into the chairs which were a little like plane seats with lots of seatbelts, lots of checking of the seat belts, and a big solid bar to hold on to like your life depends on it…because it does. Once strapped in to the seat with feet hanging in the air, we watched the floor fall away beneath us and the ride slowly began. On our way out we were cheered and clapped and waved to by the attendants, whose job is not only to see to the safety of the ride but also to add to the entertainment. They sent us off like warriors going to battle. The long incline at the start of the ride is slow, high, and backwards. There’s the customary pause for terror at the top and then the screams start as the ride twists, plummets and spins all at once. Facing up, facing down, facing sideways, thrown to one side as the ride pulls to the other, feet waving in the cold nothingness, Sterling’s screams and yells and laughter beside me. No time to feel sick or even afraid, while the ride is fairly long it’s so action packed that you have no idea whether you’re coming or going, up or down, and then you of course realise that the answer is “all of the above”.

After that one the day was wearing on and we were cold and exhausted. We wandered around, took some photos, posed in front of Mt Fuji, the boys did a couple of smaller rides and as the lights began to twinkle we made our way back through the park to the bus stop. It had been a very satisfying, very action packed day and honestly I loved every single minute of it!

Tokyo - Harajuku

On Friday evening Travis and I had put Sterls to bed early so we could sit in the hotel bar and plan out our week. There’s a lot going on in Tokyo and some choices had to be made. Bright and early on Saturday, we headed to Tsukiji Fish Market. On my last visit to Tokyo I was fortunate enough to witness the famous salmon auctions at that market, but late last year the “inner” market was moved to a new location more suitable for the commerce that needs to take place but is so regularly interrupted by gawking tourists. However the outer Tsukiji markets remain and so we wandered the ten minutes from our hotel to see what we could find for breakfast.

Turns out, quite a lot!

We ate grilled sea urchin with scallops cheese, skewered baby octopus, eel kebabs, steamed pork buns (irresistable) and drank a hot soup that was handed to us by the man we bought the eel from. It was all pretty tasty although the sea urchin was a bit chewy…

The Tsukiji markets are everything I hoped and expected. They were riotous, crowded, relatively cheap, photogenic and contained a variety of gastronomic options. We had a great time exploring the markets, trying to figure out what certain sea creatures were (or in some cases, whether they were actually just baked goods or something) and chatting to the other tourists we encountered who were debating whether or not to eat certain things (the answer is always to eat it, especially if you don’t know what it is).

After the fish market we headed to Harajuku mainly because it features in all the “top ten must see” lists and because I somewhat remembered it from last time. Or thought I did. I think my memory of the place might have been hazy because there is in fact not a great deal to see there. Nonetheless we wandered down Takeshita Dori (the main street), took photos of the random cuteness exploding all over the place, ate an enormous calorific crepe and then dropped into the Harry Hedgehog cafe to cuddle hedgehogs.

People, hedgehogs are adorable. Soft, squishy, balled-up little creatures with sweet little noses and pale pink little bellies, curling up into a ball to sleep on one’s hand or occasionally snuffling up your sleeve in case you bought some mealyworms and for some reason stored them in your clothes. The half-hour of time that you’re given flew by quite quickly. Of course, because I follow too many of National Geographic’s instagram posts to feel entirely comfortable with a cafe for petting animals, I had to google how well these animals are treated. The general consensus among the experts seem to be “it’s not ideal but we can’t poke any specific holes at the way most cafes manage their animals”. So that assuaged my guilt somewhat, if not entirely, and allowed me to enjoy myself.

After our sojourn with the hedgehogs and a singularly appalling coffee (the “cafe” part), we wandered through Yoyogi Park because it was there and we missed trees and large open spaces. Yoyogi Park is quite enormous and houses the Meiji Shrine which, in 1920, was completed as a shrine to the deified sprits of the former Emperor and Empress of Japan. In the late 20s part of the park served as an army parade ground and in the late 40s it became a military base for the occupying US trips. It was the site of the main Olympic Village in the 60s and then in 1967 it was finally turned into Yoyogi Park. It’s actually a beautiful space. We followed an absolute horde of people through the large entrance gates towards the Shrine (a place we hadn’t intended to visit but stumbled across anyway) and on the way we discovered what we assume was the reason for the large yet well-behaved crowd - an ice sculpture competition. The path was lined by incredibly intricate and large ice sculptures, some of which were melting and had lost forelegs or noses, or even just a bit of weight, but all of which were incredibly beautiful. 

The crowd itself was an interesting attraction. There was no sign of the ebullience you’d expect from that number of people. The numbers were huge but it felt almost like a sacred pilgrimage. It was orderly and quiet and everyone kept well to the sides of the very wide path. After admiring the many statues we arrived at the Shrine and were momentarily delayed by a procession of traditionally dressed and rather grave looking people. In the middle were the bride and groom - apparently up to 15 weddings occur there every day. We felt quite fortunate to see one as the bridal kimono was truly beautiful and the quiet (almost gloomy) procession of people fascinating, but equally I felt fortunate that our own wedding won’t involve a weirdly dour train of people ambling through a throng of curious strangers.

By this point of the day it was getting late and we were getting tired, so we turned our feet to our hotel and retired to our respective onsens (gender segregated public baths) on the second floor of our hotel for a long soak.

Tokyo - Asakusa

The first time I came to Tokyo I commented on how quiet it was. It goes to show how your experience of a trip can be dictated by the choices you make at the time. On my first visit to Tokyo I stayed in Asakusa, an older and more peaceful area of the city. I visited shrines and went out for meals and wandered through picturesque streets. 

This time around I had the opposite impression. We stayed in Ginza (quite central), caught a lot more trains, and went to a number of video game places. This time around I found Tokyo to be a whirlwind of sound; our passage through the city was annotated by birdcalls at the traffic lights, talkative voices in the lifts, alarms and announcements and bells and the taka-taka-taka of Shinkansen. It’s momentarily overwhelming until you are swept up in it and you forget to notice. Some of this noise serves to remind people to be quiet: “Please do not make calls on your mobile phones.” And therein lies one of Tokyo’s charming oddities and perhaps the crux of my two opposing impressions - while the city and the streets are loud, the people are so quiet. Groups of Australian, American and German tourists stand out significantly as they banter on the train platforms and in the restaurants. 

On our first day in Tokyo we retraced my steps from a decade ago and visited the Senso-ji Shrine in Askakusa. Asakusa is a quieter, more traditional feeling part of the city and the shrine is quite picturesque with its own aura somehow different from the others we visited. Something about its location surrounded by the city perhaps, and at the end of a famous souvenir shopping street. It’s a Shinto shrine and has a large vestibule containing incense near the entrance - the idea is to waft the incense smoke over yourself, thus purifying yourself. 

Sterling decided to purchase a fortune at the Shrine. You pay your money, take up a hexagonal container full of long sticks and shake it around until one of the sticks falls out of the small hole in one end. On the stick you will find a symbol corresponding to a small drawer which, when opened, will dispense your multi-lingual fortune. The whole process is actually quite fun though can sometimes denigrate quite quickly into a game of pick-up-sticks if you shake too exuberantly.

Sterling’s fortune was highly positive; his projects will succeed, those he loves will remain in good health, his career will be rewarding and his finances will be stable and secure. Of course, a bad fortune is easily dealt with. You simply tie the piece of paper in a knot around one of the strings sitting outside the temple for that purpose. The wind will then blow your bad fortune away. There were elaborate drawings on small boards also blowing in the breeze, I assume there’s a similar function to those (alternatively, they could be prayers).

Keen to disprove the veracity of the fortune regarding his finances, Sterling then made his way to the are where “offerings” are made; you throw your money at some kind of deity and it falls between the cracks of the floor, the deity then grants you a wish. Not sure what sort of wishes can be bought with 1 yen (about 1 cent) but I asked Sterling if he had wished for his money back and apparently he didn’t. It also didn’t come back, so I guess the whole thing obviously works.

Next there was a clever man performing tricks with his monkey. Japanese monkeys, unlike the Balinese we so regularly encounter, don’t openly steal your money. Instead they do tricks so that you - or your formerly cashed up children - will give it to them. (Both monkey and man were actually quite entertaining and earnt their few yen.)

Most amusing of all however were the tourists in a small rickshaw who were being personally escorted around the grounds by an (incidentally) quite good looking Japanese guide. He wheeled them over to look at the prayer boards, then to watch the monkey for a bit, then a few meters to the left to pose for a photo, then a few metres the other way for something else. I would have felt absolutely mortified but they seemed to be having a great time playing prince and princess in their little carriage. 

After leaving the Shrine - our last religious visit of the trip - we went down the souvenir street and bought, of course, some chopsticks. We actually use chopsticks quite a lot and these ones were quite cheap and quite good. I had a fun time checking out the many little shops selling small attractive squares of fabric which allegedly have multiple uses in Japan, but in my opinion are primarily useful for selling to tourists.  After that we made our way back to the station and the boys went to play in some video game hellhole while I wandered through the shops of Ginza.

Japanese Countryside & Shinkansen

Yesterday we took the Shinkansen (bullet train) from Osaka to Tokyo. It was our first proper view of some of the Japanese countryside as the day trips we had taken until then were all through fairly populated areas. Having said that, the trip to Tokyo was through quite populated areas as well but there were glimpses here and there of some rice paddies, mountains (Sterling’s first glimpse of snow) and the ocean. However all of that is interspersed by many, many houses of varying sizes and states of repair/disrepair. There were some snippets of quite pretty Japanese-style homes that look fairly large but they don’t last for long. It’s logical to assume that the train line runs past the less affluent areas so that likely affects the scenery. Unfortunately the views just weren’t all that interesting, everything looked a little run down and the number of factories and industrial areas we went past was significant. All of it is overlooked by mountain ranges too steep to populate but it just looks…crowded.

Nevertheless here are some videos and photos I took from the train, both to give an idea of how fast the Shinkansen travel (up to about 320 km/h on the fastest trains, ours was about 285 km/h).

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.