Shinkansen first

The fastest Bullet Train line is the Tokyo – Morioka section of the Tohoku line. The one that goes up the East Coast. It is the only one with 200mph running. So a quick mornings work it was to be. I had a ride up to Sendai, it has a nonstop section of 70mins. It does the run, including one stop at an average speed of 144mph. 216 miles in 90 mins.

An early start so a takeaway breakfast. The bottle on the right is from a vending machine. It was hot, that is all it had going for it. It had coffee written on the label. What is the Japanese for the “misrepresentation of goods act”

Sendai, an accidental destination.

Like a lot of the Shinkansen stations the opportunity to develop around it has been taken whole heartedly. At Sendai there is a swanky department store. Japanese department stores are gorgeous places, all light, design and space. The staff impeccably dressed, greeting you in with a little bow. The layout of the merchandise is almost minimal. They also have a food floor, made up of different styles of eating. Not having much experience of shopping, I’m struggling for words and too shy to take photos.

Gift Buying

On pure visual evidence only the Japanese must be great gift buyers, whether it is for love or guilt, there are loads to be bought.

Stores like these are at every large station, not one or two stores, there could be four or five, all the wares, in this case chocolate are beautifully presented and come in lovely bags.

Bars

Now here is something I know a bit about. The locals drink, there is no doubt about that. Japanese drinking culture is legendary, drunkenness is tolerated. In these few days that I have been here, I have seen drunk, I have yet to see ugly drunk, and that I can see every time I go out in the UK.

All the eating out I’ve done, twice a day for the majority has been in Ramen bars, Sushi restaurants, grill places, all Japanese fast food. They do not do sitting around. You can tell the popular/good places they have a queue outside, however, the turnover is so quick. If you order a few dishes, they come continually. I never waited more than 5 mins for food to arrive (sometimes I had to wait for it to cook). There is an expectation that once eaten you’re off. When you get such good food at the right price point, it’s hard to look elsewhere.

I came across a new a style of bar, more spacious, more British dare I say. A Japanese representation of a British pub. Differences though, you get met at the door and shown to a table or stool, given a menu for the beer. I sat for 10 minutes awaiting staff to take my order, when I chased up the staff, find i have to order at the bar. Like all things, you pay for what you get. Reassuringly expensive is what I call it.

Ueno Park

Stopping the last three nights in Ueno. The Cultural Centre, says the Rough Guide, based around Ueno Park. Temples, Museums, Art Gallery’s and a Zoo. So Sunday morning, I have a walk, it’s a lovely morning. Monday is a Public Holiday, celebrating the founding of Japan 11th February 660BC. If I don’t write it down, I forget yesterday. I mention this, as it accounts for the amount of families that are out. It is packed, there are stalls selling traditional crafty things, leather, textiles, pottery, surrounding these stalls are the food vendors, all neon, flashing lights and the noise is tumultuous as they all hawk their wares.

There are jugglers, conjuourers, samurai shows and ninjas. They weren’t very good ninjas obviously.

There is a large Temple on an island, on the way towards this are food stalls again, this time a lot less low key, more in keeping with surroundings. The sights and smells of the previous stalls have awakened my appetite and are a lot less intimidating. It is still breakfast time. I decide on squid or is it cuttlefish, I’m invited to pick one from a tray of identical looking fillets, all shiny, lustrous and dead. I’m a little hypnotised by his hands and blades as he cuts and cooks the fillet on the giant hot plate, it is only then that I see the colour of his tunic, I revert my gaze in the hope that that will somehow make it white again. The seafood is excellent, there is something about fresh, of that more later.

F

I can confirm there are Museums, Temples, Art Galleries and a Zoo, because I walked past all of them.

Enoshima

In a narrow minded Britisher way, even though I’d done a fair bit research, some major things I didn’t realise. It’s a mountainous country. If it isn’t flat it’s a mountain. All the flat bits are built on or paddys, if it’s possible to get it terraced, it is. For rice. This time of year, February, the mountains are all snow topped, it makes for wonderful vistas.

Forget to mention the Monorail yesterday using it specifically in my quest for ticking off transport types. It runs from Haneda Airport, to central Tokyo and is the standard type with the rail underneath. Tokyo does it a little different, it puts the rail above and suspends the vehicles above. In the main it follows the roads, so quite surreal, passing cars and busses and going straight over red lights. It was actually a British invention and we know how that goes.

There was a destination though, not just out for the ride. One of the other things I didnt realise, and being an island seems even dafter now, they have beach resorts. Im off to the seaside.

Sushi

There is sea, there is a harbour, there are fishing boats so there is Sushi. Actually, you don’t need any of those things, Sushi is everywhere.

The restaurant I pick, stays to type. A central cooking and preparation area, lined with glass fridges and counter seating. Behind the counter seating is table and chairs, completing the eating area are the raised booths around the outside with some screens and the sunken tables, within the steps is space for your footwear.

It is still a point at the picture menu, which is the best type. I order a mixed platter and watch the chef, in his spotless whites, prepare the dishes. Rolls and kneads the rice in to a navvies thumb size piece, deftly smears an almost see through layer of wasabi, then with a huge knife cuts a sliver of fish from a fillet, continues on to the next piece, cleaning the blade in between to save cross contaminating the subtle flavours. There are three cuts of tuna, yellow tail, salmon, shrimp. Wrapped in seaweed comes salmon roe and minced tuna belly. It comes with a delicate fishy broth, some shredded ginger and a little saucer of soy for dipping. Surreptitiously watching the locals to get the technique right, a tiny bit of ginger, put the Sushi on to its side, pick up, a quick dip in the soya and the whole thing goes in to the mouth. The taste and texture is amazing, the soft moist claggy rice, the succulent fish that melts away, the little bite of the wasabi as the rice and fish seperate. It’s not hard to tell why it’s so relished.

In one of the booths a large family group are eating, there is no children’s menu here, the kids all woofing down the same food as their parents without a second thought.

Not quite sated, a 2nd round beckons, seared mackerel and sea eel. The mackerel skin is just flashed at with a blow torch to crisp up the skin. I wouldn’t order the sea eel again, the taste a little smoked and spicy was fine, the texture however, like that bit of tube you get in ox liver.

Convenience Stores

Are all over, seems like you are never more than 5 minutes from one. They are all designed for people on the go. The range is immense from your pot noodles, through to crisps, on to the sandwiches, sushi, noodles dishes. All have a section of steamed dumplings, some with brine bowls with floating thing. All have a microwave so can ping your fresh noodles, or a hot water supply for your pot ones. Some even have a little seating area.

Street Wise

Strangely with all this food to go, it is frowned upon to eat whilst walking, either back to the hotel with it, stand at the front of the shop or inside. Never on the move.

Smoking has similar rules. You cannot smoke whilst walking, this applies to parks as well. There are provided little fenced of areas every now and then.

Light controlled crossings. Red means red, and everybody waits, without fail. Can’t see any traffic? Still you wait. Except if you are a car, you can turn off the main road and through a crossing even when that crossing is green. They do though, always.

Bar hopping

There is a bar scene in Tokyo.

Hang on, mostly the right words, just in the wrong order. There was a scene in a bar in Tokyo. It’s what you get when 5 Australians, 2 Filipinos, an American, an Irishman and an Englishman herded by a Japanese man walk in to a pub. It’s no joke. It was very good fun though.

It was a guided tour around some Tokyo bars, trying different foods and drinks. We started in seafood place, had sashimi, four different cuts of tuna, some squid, and a white fish, it was eaten simply with a bit of wasabi and dipped in soya There was also grilled tuna jaw bone, picking the meat off, not unlike a ham shank. It was helped down with a molasses based spirit and a mixer, unique to the Tokyo area Hoppy an alcohol free beer.

Next bar was all pork based, we had grilled offal of various types including tripe. To help this down there was sake served in a glass that stood in a box, the glass was filled until overflowing and the box filled. Also a sweet potato based spirit, service ed neat over ice. The measures are huge and topped up regularly. These bars are tiny, probably less than 20 people, most are under the influence, it is raucous but very friendly, and very Japanese. We are welcomed warmly in all, except for one middle aged couple amongst all the babble and palaver wanted a quiet moment and a bit of finger wagging occurred.

Akira, our guide then took us to a ramen bar, just 14 seats in an L shape around the kitchen area. You picked your food from a ticket machine then presented this to the staff. I had pork noodles with egg it came with a dipping soup. It was excellent.

The food must have been a bit salty because everyone was a bit thirsty.

Our guide negotiated a deal with a bar, all you can drink, in the 40 minutes it was left open. ¥1000 about £7. I got very good value!

Cape Soya

It’s a almost balmy -12 as I rise this Saturday morning. Looking out through the wired windows, does the wind gets that bad?, it is grey but not snowing. My flight back down to Tokyo is at 13:15, yesterday’s was cancelled due to the snow. A trip to the Onsen, the hotel room doesn’t have a bath or shower, the outside pool doesn’t seem at all appealing in the stark daylight. Online there is no news on the flight other than “checking on weather conditions” I fret.

Of all the things I had planned, except for meeting Lucy, todays was the one written in stone. Cape Soya, a barren windswept point, stuck at the top of Japan. I collect the car from the magic garage, even more amazement, it had turned itself around. I had driven it in, and here it was ready to drive out. What demons do these garages possess? The hire car company provides a map with local sights on, it is quite a short list. Each one carries a number that is directly added to the screen. 37km it says, easy I think. Wrong.

Passing the airport gives me a little confidence, there is a fleet of snow ploughs in an echelon clearing the runway, their vivid yellow and spumes of snow a welcome sight against the relentless white.

The road, for the main, follows the coast, the sea never more than 200m away often much closer. Helpfully, downward pointing flashing arrows, point to the edges of the carriageway. The wind, blowing continuously, picks up moisture that instantly freezes and sends it roadward. The little Honda, amazingly sure footed, has a couple of issues. The wipers sit below the output for the screen demist, they constantly collect ice and freeze straight, they then don’t clear the screen. The screen demist on full power, clears mist, but when driving does not provide enough heat to clear any ice left by the wipers. Makes driving interesting.

With regularity, harbours appear, the fishermen obviously wise to conditions, all the boats are out of the water, mounted on stands. There are houses, squat, hunkered down, purposeful, ready for the continuing battle against the elements. Closer to the sea now, just a fence to guide the course, not enough room for the guiding arrows. Fiercer here due to the proximity of the water. Frozen-over breakwaters, cause the sea to lift giving ammunition to the wind.

Another harbour, a small village, snow cleared on their drives, a civic pride in the war against the constant enemy, that that never gives in, that attacks in waves.

Closer now, 5k the machine says, those 5k, with no imagination copy the features of the previous.

The distance to the sea starts to increase, just enough for a car park and an overhead road sign. Nature also gives enough land for a gift shop and two toilet blocks, she does indeed move in mysterious ways. With your back to the south and the facilities the sharp arch stands proudly against nature’s savage backdrop. They have put in a symbolic N, it stands for….

Was it worth it? Of course it was, the Majesty of nature, the ease at which can bring forth such violent behaviour, yet, still be beguiling. Definitely beauty and the beast.

Whilst sat, deep in contemplation, more things occurred to me, Japan has great sandwiches, hot coffee from a vending machine tin can is rubbish and Hull is further North than this.

All Nippon Airways

You did me proud, late but you arrived. Still at -12 a fair bit of deicing to do, but I made it back to Tokyo.

Wakkanai is the northernmost city in Japan, it’s famous for being Japan’s City that is further north than any other. It gets well over the gutter level of snow.

It’s the bit at the top, you know, the furthest…. Was going to copy something of interest from wiki, except it went on about its geographical position. The Americans didn’t bomb it during the war, I bet you know the reason why, yep too far and the N word.

In reality, it isn’t even that far up the world. Turin and Grenoble are on the same latitude, half way between the equator and the pole.

Out for a drive

The Japanese have a class of car called Kei, lots of regulations govern them but basically they have to be small and below 660cc. There are lots about and I’ve always admired them. Already being aware that Wakkanai didn’t have the most going for it except a grand train ride to get here, I thought I’d hire a car for a trundle around for an afternoon, evening and morning. There are seals, deer, islands and rugged coastlines to explore. The car was perfect, Honda N-box. Aptly named for sure. It has sat navigation, heated seats, electric windows and opening rear doors.

It’s cute and has 4 wheel drive. Did I mention the weather? I spent less than an hour in the car. The car was sure footed, unbelievably so bearing in mind the roads are packed snow and ice. However, the visibilty changed constantly whilst driving, you can’t see were road, path and lanes start and finish. At junctions, you are just looking for shade changes in the whiteness. Japanese road designers thoughtfully put posts with arrows pointing down to show the side.

A drive in Wakkanai

I made it to the harbour, all the boats tied up, the water frozen, the breakwaters masses of ice where the spray had given up to intense cold. The bitter wind picked up any loose ice crystals and was using them to gnaw at your face. A removed glove, an arm raised for a selfie, invited an immediate intense pain, ice cream headache in its ferocity, to your digits. Just reward some may say. Except for the exposed fingers, natural fibres have kept the body and limbs warm, wool, merino and lambs, tweed, leather and moleskin have all done their job. Although physically warm, the intensity of it all, just being in a place to be there with no purpose, begins to tell. A weariness creeps in, even sat in a warm car, a chill sets in to your bones. I turned to Scott, Bowers and Wilson, told them that I was going outside and may be sometime. (Stop, ed)

Enough enough says sensible side and off to the hotel we go, the car to be entombed in its interior. You drive in to what looks like a single garage, collect your belongings from it. Lock and keep the keys. A chappy then turns up, and your car lifting in to the air is the last you see of it, it’s a giant lift. Goodness knows were it went? But another car was ready to follow it in to the same garage. We’ll try again tomorrow for a longer drive.

Onsen part 2

The hotel thoughtfully provides respite from this torment. There is a top floor Onsen. Resplendent in my provided hotel wear I make my way up. Breaking one of the rules, I bring you the rules.

After a luxurious wash and rinse in the hot wash area, wearing exactly the same amount of clothing as the day I was born, I head to the outside bath. It’s still -15 outside, you realise what a great equaliser cold weather is. The water is a delightful 40°, you immerse yourself. The bathing area is uplit, so nofierce light for the users. Although the area is sheltered from the majority of the wind high up were we are, what there is causes the falling snow to shine against the dark skies it’s like a myriad of fireflys swirling, dancing and cavorting above you.

A man’s got to eat

Stepping through the red curtains in to the restaurant, I’m the only customer. Booths to the right, a U shaped counter in the middle. Too cold to remove shoes, I go for the counter. Each place has its little tray, chopsticks, a red pepper shaker, a silver thingy? tooth picks, or are they chopsticks for really tiny people. A jar of miso and one of wasabi.

After ordering by pointing a finger, I then use Translate, I see that I’ve ordered 5 time ramen. 5 times what I wonder, seafood, veg, meats? I find out, 5x the size, or so it seems. It’s actually a salty miso base with thin pork, squid, mushrooms, bamboo shoots, veg with egg stirred in. Noodles make up the biggest part. Whilst I’m wading through, trying to get all the best bits, the proprietors, two wisened old men are closing the place around me. Walking back towards the hotel, three things occur to me, I’m on my own in the silence, compacted snow makes a wonderful squeaking sound when further compressed underfoot and Wakkanai starts closing at seven.

Walking back to the hotel, I contemplate, If there had a been a bar open, if there had been anyone in , I would have told them that Hull and Wakkanai have a lot in common, fishing, ferries, docks, loads of things , except Hull is further North!

A trip for the foolhardy?

I’m soon ensconced in a leather armchair, the driver three rows in front, pilots the blue nosed monster into the white nothingness. The thrum of the diesel engine below, gives confidence in its ability to provide warmth and power, cocooned as we are, in this aluminium and glass tube. Headway is brisk, with the occasional soft thump as we hit small drifts, we dissappear into clouds of snow like a powder puff being dropped, yet, it gives a light tap tap on the windows with its icy fingers as if want to come in. All us passengers look away, no one wants to find eye contact with this wispy figure and succumb to its wishes to enter and steal our comfort.

Every now and then, the sun shows it face, all weak and washed out, it adds nothing to the scene except the grey light. The snow, ice and frosty air sucking any heat away that it may have had to offer. It doesn’t last long, the sun gives up on its losing battle and pulls the duvet up and over itself once more.

Or passage now is ship like, powering through a sea of colourless, featureless, nothingness. The bow wave flying equally down the sides. Quickly small islands, little oasis, colourful places with buildings and streets appear, people embark and disembark to and from this otherworldly journey. As they enter the cabin, they bring with them reminders of the outside, the cold clings to them, until our protecting heat encases and cossetts them. Their witness trails on the floor dissappear as if being slowly sucked in. The strange normality of the conflict between us and the outside reaches equilibrium, we all relax and enter our own little private places again. Some to sleep and their dreams of other places, some to games to get lost in another adventure, and some to their writings and searching for the right word, phrase.

With time to decampment getting ever closer, the need for fortifying the body signals with internal grumbling. Rice cakes, one with tuna and one with salmon and sesame, and teriyaki chicken and egg sandwiches will have to suffice.

Ten minutes before arrival in to Wakkanai, garment layers steadily pealed off since starting the journey starts to reappear. The limited floor and dressing space, begins to look like a game of spotless twister. Care been taken not to put your arm in someone else’s sleeve. (Not a euphemism, John) or a foot into the wrong boot (again, John).

Finally we disembark.

Snow. Such a little word in English. The Japanese have a better word for snow at -15 feels like -27. It is whatthebloodyhellareyougoingoutinthatfor (seems quite apt, you can have that one, ed)

We’ll build shops and hospitals and barracks, right under their noses, right under their feet. Everything we need: banks, prisons and schools… …

There was a hint in the previous blog regarding the Snow and Ice Festivals. It helps you to guess what the good people of Sapporo put up with. They get nearly 5metres of snow, in old money 16ft 5″ of it every winter. Walk outside your house, look up to the gutters, it’s about to there.

They deal with it. However, to help them deal with they dug a tunnel, a proper tunnel, not like the Artillerymans. 500m long and and about 20m wide with shops, cafes, gardens, restaurants, toilets, exhibition areas, it’s all air conditioned and leads mostly across town to right under the train station. It’s a wonderfully bright spacious area, they call it Chi-Ca-Ho, so obviously not named by that English fella. It feels just like a street with a lid on.

Oh hang on, they have one of those as well, 7 blocks it goes, 1km.

The covered Street, Tanukikoji, was home to a more eclectic range of shops than the large underground one. Designer fashion, vintage and food feature heavily.

Otaru

Lucy and me travelled off to Otaru, about 30 minutes eastward along the coast. Lucy to catch the train off back to work, me to head towards the sea, for the dish of the area, Sushi. Lucy’s train headed south to the mountains, I headed north towards the sea and Otaru’s famous canal.

The reader may have noticed a recurring theme regarding the weather over the last few days. Do pictures give the impression of cold, they should, the temperature in Otaru was -4 (minus four).

So instead of Sushi, I had a wonderful Ramen, duck and leak with thin flat noodles.

Whilst travelling around the coastal areas, been seeing these signs

It’ in case of Tsunami, if gives you the height you are above sea level, and were the place of safety is. Somethings we just take for granted.

Hakodate – Sapporo

After the explosions of colours at the fish market, todays journey was viewed on a Decca black and white TV.

The first fifteen minutes of the trip is done through a snow storm that lines the trains panoramic windows like a grey bengal stripe shirt blowing on a washing line. It clears as we hit the coast, but the colour pallette doesn’t.

For the next two hours the Pacific Ocean sits forlornly to the East, wondering, if for the next 5000miles, anything will change before it hits California. A couple of sharp downward slaps on the Decca fails to change the monotones, just causing a bit of bluriness.

Sapporo

Sapporo Station has east- west platform exits to the concourses and north – south entrances to the streets. Connecting these are large thoroughfares lined with shops, cafes, department store foyers, tourist information, baggage lockers, toilets, ticket offices, police departments ……

It may be asked how the author has such a deep understanding of the layout of the station, well, I was like John Sergeant on Strictly, waltzing around looking for his Kristina, who in reality was Lucy, who had only been less than 25m away when I started the dance.

We caught up over ramen

The Sapporo Snow and Ice festival coincides with our visit, approx 2 million visitors come to see the sculptures, they vary from the ice bricked smoking areas to the model of Finland’s state building, those in between being your favourite anime and pokemon characters. (Nope, not me either) each being sponsored.

We’d booked a guide to help us visit a traditional Izakaya restaurant. Climbing up the narrow steps and ducking through the blue curtained entrance, you come to foyer with the telltale shoe racks and the step up to the dining area. After de-shoeing you enter, the room is made up of shallow pits with tables over. In effect you sit on the floor with your legs tucked under the table. Each table is separated from its neighbours by a decorated screen, moveable to increase areas. There are also curtained booths to allow even more private dining.

The food comes in many courses, some in single portions, some as table dishes. Meats and vegetables, on skewers and deep fried. A mountain of steaming vegetable rice topped with egg that cooks as it stirred through. A clear chicken soup in drinking cups, A stew pot that is cooked at the table, once it’s solid contents of chicken and veg are eaten, udon noodles are added to the still simmering liquor to cook through. Incongruously appearing at the end was a bowl of French fries and tomato sauce. The food courses where accompanied by Sapporo beer, hot saki, fruit juice and a very moreish salted plum drink.

A fine time was had, filled to busting and plans for the morrow made.

It’s snowing. In Japan, they have twenty words for snow. This snow is known as stickto.  Then it stopped snowing, the skies magically cleared to reveal glittering stars and the temperature dropped. What once was a walk in crunchy snow, rapidly turned in to treacherous slide about.  There is a word for this, likelytoendonyourarse. (enough japaneseisms, ed). Made my way via tram and cable car to the top of Mount Hakodate. It really was worth the trip (blog passim). It was just a quick 10 mins at the top as it was closing early at 21:00. The staff manage to combine a loud voice with clear instructions without shouting. Amazing how they herded all the Chinese tourists and an English Man back down from the observation point.

After ramen and beer in a local hostelry, that also closed early, at 22:00, I gave up any sense of valour in walking and opted for a taxi home. The roads and paths are all frozen over and deserted, except for other taxis.
The car was the ubiquitous Toyota Crown Comfort in black. The leather seats where topped with white lace anti-maccasers. The driver resplendent in his black suit, peaked cap and white gloves. We set off like the gangster hitmen in Bullitt. I tightened my lap belt, we fishtailed and snaked up the road, sliding around the corners, never once losing control. His fingers skipped round the steering wheel like a Busby Berkeley dance routine. We arrived under the hotel canopy, I looked behind, there was no sign of the Mustang and the only person wearing tweed and a turtle neck was the Author.

Hakodate Fish Market

One thing you note, very early in a trip to Japan, is the amount of fish eaten and on menus. Hakodate’s fish market is a traditional one. Large square building with stalls ringing the walls both inside and outside. Within the centre of the hall the stalls are in rows. Each stall shows off its wares in regimented rows, shellfish, crabs, fish, roe. Dried fish hanging from hooks. Often the stalls are backed by glass tanks with squid, octopus and crabs taking residence. The whole scene being a marine biologists heaven or hell, depending on whether thet where hungry? From each stall it is possible to buy your choice have ever it prepared to eat straight away in its restaurant upstairs. One had a large tank centre stage full with swimming squid. They provide rod and line so you could catch your own. Woops of excitement when one was hooked. The fishmonger then prepared it immediately, never going near heat or flame, the strips of the clear flesh being eagely devoted with just a dip in soy. More Woops as stallholder had the, just removed, squids head dancing on its tentacles.

Fortunately I’d just eaten