You Love Japan

You open your eyes, blink a few times. Your eyes focus on the colourful lights in the 737 cabin interior. You look around to see that you are the only blonde, the only one awake and your eyes come to rest upon the pretty lights above. You wonder if Air Canada has installed the swirling blue, red, pink, yellow rotating cacophony of colour especially for bleary eyed passengers like yourself, or if it is for the packed plane of Japanese passengers who love everything 'kawaii (cute)'. You decide on the latter. You hear the flight attendant announce the impending arrival in Tokyo first in English, French and then Japanese. You are proud to think that you can understand two out of three of the languages. A pervading stench reaches your nostrils. You look around and realize that the rest of the passengers have stirred and are breathing once again, therefore expelling the air that was locked like a prisoner in their mouths. It is familiar odor and you wonder why the perfumeries have not thought of bottling this scent titled 'Halitosis a'la Seaweed' before. You make a mental note to contact Issey Miyake. The wheels touch down, and with relief that you will soon breathe fresh air and wash away the breath of 400 passengers, you relax and feel like you have arrived home. Kitty-Chan is awaiting your arrival. She claps her hands in excited expectation.

Fancy some creamy collon?

You are thrust through the turnstiles of the Narita Express (N'EX) and proceed to find your allocated seat. Clutching your Japan Rail Pass, you greet the weary JR train attendant with a foreigner smile: friendly, open and confident, boldy stating each syllable of 'Konnichiwa' like a precocious 5 year old on her first day of school. Your new Japanese friend is already tired of you and asks to see your pass in perfect English. Things have changed since you were last here. Maybe the JET program is working? That 126 million Japanese people are finally learning English? Maybe the JET's they are hiring now are actually doing a decent job rather than using the year to drink copious amounts of Kirin whilst finding suitably compliant and blind Japanese wives. You settle into the hour-long journey to Tokyo and let the rocking of the train lull you back to sleep.

Shinjuku by Night

You are slightly overwhelmed in Tokyo station by the crazy bird-like precision of the commuters. The thousands of commuters move in a flight-like pattern without knocking into each other, criss-crossing and climbing stairs, chatting on cell-phones and navigating the confusing tunnels with exactitude. In contrast, with your semi-broken wing and awkward baggage, you look like a young birdling that has fallen out of her nest.

Asakusa Temple

Arriving in Asakusa at dusk, the hot humid air hits you like a wall. The 'unchi-biru'/Asahi Beer Hall' greets you and you easily navigate your way through the narrow Asakusa streets. You see a smushed senbei cracker on the ground and say a silent prayer of thanks to St. Christoper the protector of the traveler. Arriving at Sakura Hostel, you walk straight into Hitomi-chan, your very good friend who has patiently been waiting for your arrival for the last 45 minutes. You love Japan and all the people you met and have known since you lived there.

My favourite photo from the trip: an alley in Shinjuku

Mark was the first to arrive. You share food and beer and reminisce of times gone by. He tries to sell you an electric cigarette, but you decline, not because the product is bad; the taste and feel of the cigarette could very well tempt you to start up the habit once more. You promise to try to sell it to all your smoker friends.

Old friends in Asakusa

A restful sleep has you ready to meet the rest of your old crew arriving from London. Weaving and dodging the morning Tokyo commuters finds you once again in Tokyo station, this time your wing is repaired and you are ready for the battle. Tracey, Nick, Becky and Marcus emerge from the gates and hugs ensue. Beers are bought, shinkansen seats found and the long journey to Kyoto begins. Whiskey and raucous laughter at 12pm rings through the bullet train and our sense of being an invincible foreigner quickly returns.

Kinkakuji Temple, Kyoto

Tani House in Kyoto greets you like an old friend. Tucked delicately in the back streets of the old capital, it looks at you as if to say 'Really? it was just yesterday that you stayed here. Has it really been 10 years?'. Privy to Mrs Tani's private residence allows the group, if only for 24 hours to feel like they never left. Stifling heat, golden temples, convenience stores and beer gardens; a necessity for any Kyoto traveler. But it is the fleeting glimpses of the Kyoto Geisha of Hanami-doori that capture your heart and make you want to stay here for ever.

Beautiful Babes in Beer Gardens

Beautiful Geisha (photo by Nick)

Sadly your time passes too quickly and you and your friends are back on the bullet train, speeding through rice paddies to Kasaoka City in Okayama where you catch a short boat to Shiraishi Island. Unaware of how captivating the island is going to be, you lament leaving Kyoto. But your time is filled up with talking to some very happy elderly Japanese passengers who are on their way home to Hiroshima. All are over 60 years in age, and you remind yourself that they probably lived through the bomb. This thought makes you all the more enthusiastic to talk to them.

Kinkakuji Temple

Arriving at Shiraishi, you are astounded by the quiet and picturesque beauty of the small island. The windy and narrow path leads you to the top of the hill where your villa sits. Unfortunately, the 50ft oil refinery fire from it's tallest chimney replaces the red sun as darkness falls, but with a smile you think 'Only in Japan would this be considered beautiful'. Beautiful because it symbolizes progress and power. Thankfully, the smog covers the power station in daytime and by night, you are too intoxicated to care.

The view from the villa

Mark the Fire-Bug

The Moo Bar on Shiraishi keeps you and your friends lubricated. The cool green water keeps you satiated. You soak up the sun and fun-times. You revel in the cheap fish and fresh edamame. This is the Japan you had been waiting for.

Moogaritas at the Moo Bar

Stylin' on the Beach (photo by Nick)

Okayama city comes all too quickly. Once again, you are thrust into tall buildings and strange smells. Your group retraces their old steps to the Aussie Bar and Orange Bar. Reality hits you and your traveling companions hard; 10 years have passed and some things are better left to your memories. There is a sadness within you that could only be removed with Karaoke.

Oh Dear...

The yearning for more island adventures is within you and you direct the group to Naoshima, once again to recapture days of old. The mongolian pao tents don't quite live up to what you remembered and  you dream of the Moo Bar and Shiraishi. The heat is overwhelming, but the cool ocean acts a salve to the soul. The Yu Onsen washes away years of grime and grit; the whole island is an 'Art' island. You are treated with an elephant sculpture and stained glass windows as you bathe in the scalding water.

Yu Onsen, Naoshima Island

Okonomiyaki fills hungry bellies and midnight swims in phosphorescence bring back a flood of memories. A sneaky hot tub dip amongst stone carved monoliths sends you back to a forgotten era. It was a time of naivety, innocence, invincibility and irresponsibility. Japan was the country you grew up in. Became an adult. It was a place where you learned who you are and what you were capable of. It is your second home. You love the life-long friends you met there, you love the memories. You love Japan. You are so happy to be back.

Naoshima Pumpkin (photo by Becky)

Okonomiyaki (photo by Becky)

Naoshima Pumpkin by Night

The Last Supper of the Japan Crew (photo by Nick)