real life cameos

Wherever we travel, we return with fond memories of the people we encounter along the way.  Many of them remain anonymous, for they play only a walk on role and we simply observe and (sometimes) take particular notice.  Some leave deeper, more lasting impressions, such as the four charming university students in the photo above, who chatted to us on the Harajuku bridge last Sunday afternoon.

They were doing a university project about cultural differences, focusing on naming conventions.  Before approaching us, they hovered for a while, building confidence and trying to appoint the most able interviewer.  The young woman on the left of the group drew the short straw and came over and introduced herself, explaining the project and asking our permission to record our answers to a few questions in audio, video and still photography - and pen and paper too!  They were so charming - how could we refuse?  Embarrassed giggles, profuse thanks and informal photos taken all round afterwards in return for five minutes of our time.

The questions?  They asked about how our names were structured (given name - family name), whether there was a convention on the choice of given name (amazement when we said that a child could be given any name the parents fancied...tree, flower sky or David Beckham) and how names were changed when a marriage took place. A simple yet rather interesting focus to observing cultural differences, all conducted in fairly confident English with the utmost courtesy.

Another real life cameo is represented by the little girl walking to school.  We admire the young people going to and from school as we sit on the train, noting their school uniforms which can be rather distinctive if based on some naval or military style.  One late afternoon, a small girl boarded our train wearing a navy blue uniform with a neckerchief and sergeant's stripes on one arm (reminiscent of my old Brownie uniform)  Aged about 8 or 9, she wore her bowler-style hat firmly on her head, elastic under the chin, and carried a heavy and rather solid rucksack on her back.  Attached to one strap of her rucksack was a small panic button.  Her confidence and assured actions were remarkable for one so young and she too, will join the ranks of characters populating our Tokyo story.

Who else is there?  Well, the larger than life chap who entered the lift in the hotel accompanied by a bevy of beauties, who wore a dark suit with gold shoes, no socks.  The (French) chap wearing a pink and white striped blazer, beige trousers and leopard skin shoes and his more conventionally suited friends who commented on his attire for the whole elevator journey.  The single homeless person we spotted during our whole stay, who had engineered a washing line from traffic cones and hung a line of clothes neatly out to dry under Tokyo Town Hall.  The restaurant staff who gently advised us how to manage the various unidentifiable foodstuffs which they brought to our table, graciously turning a blind eye to our inevitable faux-pas and presumably countless lapses of table manners.  The generous and kind Tokyo residents who offered help and suggestions when we stood on a street corner looking at a map and trying to work out where we were.

Finally, but probably most important, all those patient commuters who encounter people like us every day and yet maintain such good humour, even tempers and exercise such patience when we stop suddenly to take a photograph, stand bemused as we watch whatever is going on and frequently get things horribly wrong. 

It's these people who make our travel so enlightening and so memorable.

more thoughts from Japan

I've written enough about the Japanese aesthetic enough in the last couple of days for it to be clear how much it appeals to us.   Take the tea/coffee in our hotel room, for example.  Not only is it fuss-free and efficient, it looks beautiful too.  That little urn dispenses boiling water instantly and those comfortably shaped cups sit satisfyingly well in smooth, wooden saucers.

Having no more than a dozen words of Japanese between us, we tend to focus on the English names which we spot here and there and the charming use of, to us, slightly quaint phrases such as "cheery" and "joyful" (as in "Cheery Cars" and "Joyful Honda")  En route to the airport, we passed a "Supergreat" truck and a Toyota "Succeed" model of car, though the Nissan "Cedric" brought the same smile to our faces as it did when we first spotted it some years ago, when Edward was small enough to giggle at such things.  Perhaps Cedric doesn't have the same image in Japan?

Early in our visit, I reported on the high-tech loo which we found in our bathroom.  Almost everywhere we went, including the smallest coffee shop or cafe, these were standard - heated seat, a variety of sprays and drying programmes and an automatic flush.  And yet, there in the middle of the most technologically advanced station, with electronic signage and chip-embedded ticketing, the ladies cloakroom was a bank of four squat style loos with a single cold water tap for handwashing.  No, I didn't take a photo of that one!

More usual was a sight such as this one: as we travelled down the escalator to the subway train, a cleaner was polishing the upward one holding a duster on either side of the handrail as she went.  The stainless steel was spotless, as you can see from the photograph and we both tried to recall ever seeing a similar action on the London tube.

Perhaps they do it at night?

good to be home

We're even (more or less) awake.

We left Japan feeling exactly how we've felt on earlier visits - we need to return. 

Soon! 

The Japanese way of doing things hits the spot with us every time, it seems.

At the airport, there's a huge origami exhibit and any spare time before a flight can be used to take an origami lesson with an expert.  Sadly, I found this out only minutes before boarding, but next time....  For after all, what better way to spend time cooped up on a plane but folding paper?

Yes, I quickly chose a kit to fold some cherry blossoms and envisaged folding a whole tree load in the next 12 hours.

As we left Narita and flew above the clouds, Fuji-san was there peeking through.  Magical.  I scrambled around trying to find the window with the best view and fewest reflections, more or less succeeding before we had left Japan behind and were over the sea, making our way over Kamchatca.

The rest of the flight was comfortable and, thankfully, uneventful.  I watched Duplicity, a film I'd never have chosen unless, as yesterday, there was little choice and I wasn't 100% awake.  I found it reasonably entertaining, though the size of Julia Roberts' lips is a bit of a distraction when the screen is mere inches from one's nose!

Did I fold paper?  Of course not.  I ate, slept, watched one film and then muttered my way through this months book group title which was a waste of anyone's time, in all senses! 

Now we are home, there are one or two things to put away.

Not only that, but because we left on my birthday, there's a pile of new books and other stuff to amuse and entertain as well.

I am a lucky girl.

a bit of a squeeze

Our last day here and a few things still to do - waking up to that sunshine was a wonderful tonic though, and we started the day with a spring in our step!

That spring turned into a little leap as we turned the corner on the way to breakfast - there, on the horizon, just as promised was Fuji-san!

As we checked in last Saturday, one of the staff assured us it was there, in the cloud.  Until we saw it for ourselves, however, there remained just that smallest doubt...

Our morning walk to the station was altogether different in the sunshine.  (Another little observation of Japanese behaviour - always wait for the green man before crossing, even if there is no vehicle in sight)

The destination for this morning was Kichijoji, a western suburb of Tokyo where there were one or two interesting shops on my list.  Yuzawaya was first, with a door leading directly from the Kichijoji station, no less.

The diminutive size of the shopping basket is a good means of limiting one's impulse purchases!  But a tambour hook (Clover) and a few other bits found their way into the collection and we moved on.

Kichijoji is quite a contrast to the hectic Shinjuku area where we are staying.  The streets are smaller and the traffic not quite so frenetic, making pottering around far more pleasurable. 

We enjoyed mooching amongst ordinary, everyday shops and trying to identify some of the vegetables.

Our target was Avril. Can you guess why?

Once inside, there were some familiar products

I'm not sure if Avril and Habu are one and the same, or if Avril simply stocks Habu products - no matter.  We spent a happy half hour in there, swapped money for yarn (and a book) and did a lot of smiling!  This was such an inspiring place to be, there was a serene little courtyard garden for Mark to sit whilst I looked around and made a few decisions.  If I say that an Ashford Loom awaits me at home - birthday present! - you'll know why I was rather excited by some of the many woven lovelies that were hanging there begging to be the inspiration for my first project.

A further wander around the streets in Kichijoji revealed Cottonfield, another of the recommended places to visit (poor Mark!)  Buttons, ribbons and beads on one side of the street, excellent fabrics on the other.  Lovely organised shop, very well stocked and super-friendly staff.  Here I found some of the Japanese cutesy fabric we've been seeing, ready cut in half yard pieces.

Having satisfied every fabric need, we headed out to Roppongi this afternoon, for a breath of fresh air and a look around some of the modern Tokyo architecture.  Look who we found there!  Last seen in the Turbine Hall of Tate Modern, the spider sits oustide a modern commercial centre which we found less interesting than whoever wrote the guidebook entry which tempted us there.

 Time for a bite to eat in Shibuya, scene of the great crossing and of the statue of Hachiko - a Japanese Greyfriars Bobby - the favoured meeting place for youngsters in the area.

By now, we were feeling weary and headed back to Shinjuku on the train, at rush hour.  You've seen the pictures of the Tokyo rush hour, I'm sure.  To say it's a squeeze is a small understatement.  Arriving at Shinjuku, (reputedly the busiest station in the world with more than three and a half million people passing through it every day) we struggled to make our way from the platform and out into the concourse.

Everyone was polite and kept their cool, no-one shouted or created a fuss but simply made their way through the crowd as and when they could.  Amazing.

We have both commented on how very much we enjoy simply looking about and taking in the scene.  Keeping an eye open when walking about the most ordinary street reaps rewards too - how about this for a fire hydrant sign in Kichjoji?

Or this sign, on the street in Shibuya, to help locate your whereabouts

Lastly, as we were leaving the restaurant, also in Shibuya, we spotted this lovely warning sign on the lift doors.

 

There now follows a squeeze of a different sort as I try to close my suitcase...

Thank goodness

The sun has got his hat on

 

Hip-hip-hip-hooray!!