Tokyo

Tokyo, Tokyo. Wherefore art thou Tokyo. It's a funny ol' place this and one I can't help but feel we would've got more out of if we'd come here first, fresh off a 13hour flight, fighting jet-lag and finding ourselves bombarded by the sensory overload. As it happens it's very similar to any other city in the developed World... or so we thought. At first glance this is true and it's also true to say that for the majority of the daytime we have struggled to find things to do, (if you live in a city you tend to be at work or at home during the day afterall), that are either cheap or don't involve shopping in any way. There 'aint much, unless you wanna go see temples or shrines but frankly we've had our fill of those. So, desperate to take our leave of our slightly cabbagey room, we've taken to wandering the streets in search of the the Tokyo we'd been looking forward to meeting.
It would seem that Tokyo exists very much in the detail. As a city it's pretty much the same as everywhere else but it's the finer points that make it 'alien' and individual. The people go about their daily lives like all others but where else can you see gangs of suited business men bowing profusely to one another when they part company, where else will you see groups of girls walking the streets in impossibly ridiculous heels or dressed as dolls, where else will you see attendants guiding drivers into carparks as if it were a ancient and venerated ritual. The only people more insanely dressed here than the girls are the boys. I've never seen ginger hair, cowboy boots or ripped jeans worn with such vigour. They love it the boys here, it's like they're all living out a Manga-esque, James Dean International Playboy fantasy.



There's loads of vending machines everywhere dispensing key-chains and mobile phone dangles of characters from anything from Disney to Manga cartoons and it was in these and some of the better toy shops that I sought to find the perfect robot. I found a good one, not perfect mind, but good.



Tokyo is apparently the place in Japan to have sushi, (something Beth wanted to try properly), and so on Friday we headed off to the famous Tsukiji Fish Market to take in the ambience, marvel at the sheer variety of fish on offer and maybe grab ourselves some pukka sushi for lunch. Some of the creatures on sale at the stalls would've had graown men running for the hills in terror if they weren't dead, I tell you. All manner of beady eyes stare out from glass tanks at you and tentacles thrash out of buckets to grab your ankles and drag unsuspecting shoppers to a watery grave. Okay, I made that last bit up but if it had happened I would't have been surprised.



Anyhow, we'll be heading home from Tokyo soon, back to our sofa, bed and fridge. Back to walks along the seafront, talking to friends instead of e-mailing them, fretting over money, popping on a DVD, knowing what we're eating, wearing smart clothes, using toliet paper with gay abandon, Pat, visiting Waitrose, sausages, Marmite, proper tea - none of this green tea crap, the squarking of seagulls, weekends, beautiful parks and gardens, trees, Mabel our car, Dave our plant, Steve our hoover, music... oh God music, normal sweet music with a tune and no 'pingy-tingy' noise or screechy-screechy lyrics, knowing where my pants are, not living out of a bag, family and popping out with friends to the wonderful, beauiful, glorious pub.
But before we go, here's a little present for the lads. A highly exclusive pair of beauiful, firm melons.



They're 82 pounds!

Some things about the Japanese

Japan is that kind of place that despite being in the East the culture is so Westernised that it feels a bit like being in London or Croydon or even Slough. There are however a few cultural differences that need to be noted:

All Japanese embrace technology, from young to old, the mobile is king, but when you see how long it takes to write a text in Japanese you realise why they spend so long on their phones, If they are not texting they are playing a game. All mobiles are 'clam-shell' mobiles but they are really, really cool. and the thinner and more angular the better. All phones MUST have at least 3 'dangles' hanging off them. I believe these are 'lucky charms' but everyone has them, young to old. Some people's dangles are larger than the phone itself.

All Japanese girls are 'Kookie'. Socks up to the knees, feet turned in, dangles hanging off mobile phones, teddies hanging off bags. A new fashion seems to be dressing like 'Little Bo Peep' and we have seen several other nursery rhyme characters wandering around the cities.

Ladies Shoes should be as high, pointy and sparkly as possible. The style of which would look more than a bit 'Sharonny' on any Westerner. The problem is that most Japanese ladies have wide, flat, turned in feet, hence they are unable to walk in said shoes.

Saying that though, the Japanese have a tendancy to look very cool. They can get away with a dress code that no Western person would ever dare. Hats are pretty much obligatory on the 25 to 35 year old casuals, knee high socks do look great, orange hair would appear to be the way forward. I am even warming to drainpipe jeans. In my book, Little Bo Peep is still a definate No-No though.

When posing for a photograph it is essential to make a 'PEACE V' sign with your fingers. No photo is complete without one. Apparently.

Politeness. The Japanese are more English than the English as far as politeness goes. Queueing is essential even when boarding the tube, you should stand in designated queuing spots. Politeness is paramount and bowing is as natural as breathing. People bow if they check your train ticket, say hello, give you your change, or just step in front of you on a busy street.

Japanese men are not small. This is an urban myth. In fact, in Tokyo most of them are positively tall. However, most entrances are small. Ben has been caught out by the small doorways many times over the last few weeks and is now not quite right in the head because of them. However, the small doorways are not, as he thought, there simply to annoy him, but rather because you should bow as you enter a room.

Falling asleep. We have seen many sleeping Japanese. In the most unusual places. The arcade, (where you need to shout to be heard), slumped against the fruit machine, in the ATM room outside the post office, in the foyer at the Park Hyatt. These sleeping japanese are usually suited and booted.

Pinging. Everything pings at you. All the time. Escalators, doors, pedestrian crossings, lifts, loo seats, trains, shop, toys, etc. And for no discernable reason other than just that they can.

Arcades Are full all the time, with kids at the weekend and with business men during the week. There seems to be a spending problem. People have more money than is strictly neccessary and feel the need to spend it on computer games, (shooting, football, fighting, DJ-ing, drumming, guitarring, gambling, slot machines, one arm bandits, casino), everything in this country is made into a computerised game. Including darts. No doubt there will be a 'sleeping in a busy arcade' game soon.

Talking and communicating. Everytime you enter a shop or restaurant, you are welcomed with the words 'irasshai' or 'irasshaimase', (May I help You), and although it may be obvious to the Japanese person that you are Western and have no grasp whatsoever of the Japanese language, anyone you come across will chat away to you in Japanese. I have taken it upon myself to chat away back to them in English. We have no idea what each other is saying, but at least the pleasantries are being taken seriously. For all I know our conversation may actually make some sense.

The are no bins. Anywhere.

Loo Culture. The Japanese have embraced the western style toilet in a way that should make any European thoroughly ashamed of themselves. The majority of Western style toilets are fitted with a seat warmer and 'bidet' settings. Spray, shower, osccilating, drying. I'm surprised there isn't a 'wipe with soft Andrex' setting. It has become so natural to have a warm seat that I actually jumped when I sat on a cold one.

Baseball and The Park Hyatt

We'd booked an over night stop at a lovely Ryokan, (Japanese guesthouse), called 'Ryokan Katsutaro Annex' in Ueno district as a way of getting out of Takayama and into Tokyo a few days early. The place was great, the owners were very friendly and actually apologised to us that our fantastic room with TV, private bathroom and tea & coffee making facilities wasn't bigger. With a nice room to come back to we took our first steps into Tokyo and ended up at a baseball match of all things. Baseball is huge in Japan, it was introduced in 1873 and, after Babe Ruth and Lou Gehrig visited in 1934 the Yomiuri started it's own team, The Giants are still Japan's most popular team and it was this team we were to see play the Hinsahn Tigers.



Neither Beth nor I know the slightest thing about baseball, our evening was full of comments like, "So is it like rounders where you can...", and "What's he doing now? Is he supposed to wiggle his bottom like that?", so we were really there just to soak up the atmosphere and try something new. At first we were positioned in the standing-room only section, jostling with the Japanese for a view of the pitch and trying not to spill our beers but three quarters of the way in a highly lovely couple appeared at our shoulders and offered us their tickets as they were just leaving. We thanked them profusely and walked down to our new seats closer to the action. Even if you don't watch the game there's plenty to keep you interested including the pretty young girls walk up and down the aisles carrying vats of beer on their backs and dispensing it from a nozzle 'Ghostbusters' style into plastic cups. Every so often play stops and the cheerleaders pop out to shake their booties whilst grown men dressed as animals fire t-shirts into the crowd from huge slingshots. Then they go back in and play resumes as if nothing untoward had just occured. It was all hugely exciting and we both came out grinning like idiots.



The following moring we packed up our bags, prepared ourselves to feel vastly underdressed and headed off for two nights at the Park Hyatt Hotel Tokyo where we'd booked ourselves a Deluxe King room as there were no ordinary King rooms left. From the moment we arrived we were treated like Kings. It was chuffin' brilliant. Everyone bowed and bid us 'Konichiwa Mr. Catchpole-san', (or something like that), our bags were whipped out of our hands and we were placed in the care of a highly charming man called Adrian who treated us like the Beckhams'.
The room was something else, about the size of our flat it contained the biggest bathroom I've ever had the pleasure of using, (including a sci-fi loo that had a heated seat, bidet and dryer function built in), a 32 inch plasma tv and entertainment unit, a dressing room, electric curtains, mini-bar and electric curtaains. We relaxed into our complimentary kimono robes & slippers immediately, popped on some music and let ourselves sink in to the luxurious bed linen. The view from the window, (we were on the 47th floor) took in the urban sprawl of Tokyo and, had the weather been better, we would've been able to see Mount Fuji in the distance. I don't believe that in the past four months I've been more relaxed than looking out over that view from such a beautifully tranquil room.
That first afternoon we ventured out and discovered in the basement a brilliant Deli and patisserie where we took lunch and bought some bits 'n bobs for a private supper in our room with the wine we'd got earlier from the local supermarket. After this we headed back, (we wanted to spend as much time in the room as possible - understandable I think), to make use of the room's DVD player and to watch several of the hooky DVDs we'd acquired on our travels.
After a heavy stint of DVD watching we felt in need of some exercise so we headed up to the pool where we swam for a bit and I weighed up the pros and cons of using the running machine against going back to the room to soak in the plunge bath whilst watching the TV in the bathroom. Guess which path I chose.



The following day we did much the same only leaving the room to marvel at the lovely, (and expensive), restaurants within the hotel and to wander aimlessly around the area. To our surprise we came across a lovely little exhibition of graphic art and a Conran shop in the same building.
That night we gave the 'New York Grill Bar' a miss, (it's the one Bill Murray & Scarlet Johensen use at the very top of the hotel in the film), as it involved a 10 pound cover charge each before you'd even bought a drink, and opted for the cover-charge-free bar on the 41st floor. The view was no less impressive and we whiled away our evening drinking cocktails and eating the complimentary nuts.
After two nights of this level of luxury you'll understand why we were so sorry to have to leave the following day. We took in one last swim and a bath and basked in the comfort of the room until 12 when we had to leave.
We were heading to Ikebukoro prefecture to stay in another Ryokan for five nights.

Fuji and the Shinkansen

We saw Mount Fuji from the Shinkansen (tilting train). It looked exactly how it is supposed to look with a fresh sprinkling of snow from the previous day. Except that the foreground was slightly marred by the urban sprawl that is part of Honshu's landscape.

Oh, and we bought a Bento Box on the train. It was really tasty.

The Hadaka Matsuri (Naked Festival)

Whilst in Takayama we popped our little botties onto a train and headed for neighbouring Furukawa to catch a big event on the local calendar, the somewhat mystifying 'Hakada Matsuri' or 'Naked Festival'. Well with a name like that it would've been stoopid to have not gone wouldn't it. The streets are decked with bunting and paper lanterns are hung from the lampposts. All along the length of the high street stalls appear selling toys that light up and whistle, others offering children the chance to win a fish if they can pick up a plastic duck out of a bucket of water with a mini fishing rod and a few selling masks and badges. Intermingled with these are a vast array of stalls selling all manner of tasty treats from candy-floss and chocolate coated bananas, through okonomiyake to fried chicken tendons. (I think I inadvertently bought some of these.) It's much like a fairground or festival in any other town really.



The highlight of the festival is the Okoshi Daiko, when boistrous young men parade around town at night in loincloths, (or more realistically - big nappies), drinking sake and banging drums attached to what resembles a huge cotton bud then climbing to the top of said cotton bud and balancing by their stomach whilst clapping and yelling. It was hilarious!



After this madness has died down a bit a load of nappy-clad chaps hoist themselves onto a kind of raft bearing one huge drum whereby they tie two of their number onto the drum and they then proceed to ride around town banging the drum, surfing almost, on a sea of people. It's all very strange. But bloody good fun to watch.

Takayama

Well what can we say about Takayama... Nothing great I'm afraid to say. The guide book had lead us to believe that we'd be arriving in a beautiful Alpine village full of old Japanese houses surrounded by picturesque mountains and forests. In truth it's just like anywhere else we've seen in in Japan, but a bit colder. Everywhere in Japan is developed or developing. There's precious little countryside left even in areas such as Takayama in what's known as 'the Japanese Alps'. From our train window you can see the true extent of urbanisation as the one city blurs into the next and houses and commercial properties sprawl right up to the foot of the surrounding mountains. The weather so far in Japan has been shocking, far from the stable Spring weather Japan usually enjoys at this time of year, it's been devilishly cold & rainy. We also saw snow for the first time here in Takayama which lightened our mood for a spell.



There's one quite funky little street that's been 'preserved' and provides you with a great image of how people used to live in Japan. Unfortunately the image is rather mired by the fact that a lot of these ancient homes have now become shops selling tourist tat and rice crackers. We were staying at Minshuku Kuwataniya but what we didn't realise is that when it said that it had a shared 'hot-spring bath' it meant that that was the only washing option. So every morning I had to drag myself off to the bathroom where I followed tradition and sat on a little plastic stool and showered in the company of other men. Fortunately, being an early riser, I managed to avoid embarrasment by getting in early and getting the stool all to myself. The bath itself was cold.
The guide book said that Takayama was a small town and that you can walk across it in 25 minutes. We quickly realised that this was code for 'you can do everything of any interest in 25 minutes' and it wasn't more than two days before we were planning our trip out. Unfortunately this is holiday season in Japan and pretty much everywhere is booked and/or highly expensive so we decided to sit tight for a few more days and head to Tokyo early.
We did however go to see a rather beautiful historic village just outside of town called 'Hida-No-Santo' which is an open air museum piece comprising of a couple of dozen of traditional dwellings that had been dismantled and moved here from their original locations throughout the region. It's a fascinating look at the old way of life here in Japan and the buildings themselves are mostly of the wonderfully beautiful 'Gassho-Zukuri' type. A style of architecture developed to combat the pressure of heavy snow-fall and is typified by the steeply slanted straw roof. The name derives from the Japanese word for praying as the roof is said to resemble hands clasped together in prayer. Inside the houses it's easy to imagine how cold they would have been, there's precious little furniture and, as in all traditional Japanese homes, they'd sleep on tatami mats on the floors. Another unusual feature is the absence of a chimney, the smoke from the fire was used to 'cure' the wooden eaves and hel prevent insect infection. Clever people these Japanese.



Food wise we were okay, Japanese food really is a delight. The Hida region is home to Hida beef, a meat that's beginning to rival the famous Kobe beef for it's excellence and taste. We tried the beef, (cooked on a magnolia leaf with miso paste), in a wonderfully peaceful restaurant run by two slightly mad old Japanese women. It really is delicious.
As the weather drew in and our interest-level waned we spent more and more time in our room playing 'Scrabble', trying not to spend any more money and bidding our time until we could head to Tokyo. To pick ourselves up out of the duldrums we'd decided to treat ourselves and booked two nights in the Park Hyatt Hotel, made famous of course by being the setting of the 2003 film 'Lost In Translation'.

Just a quick addition...

to our Kyoto post... For our last night we decided to head to a funky restaurant serving modern Japanese food called Grotto. It was absolutely amazing. We sat downstairs at a long counter where the chefs prepare the nine courses for you. Yep, you heard right people, NINE COURSES! They're all small courses thank God but very filling none the less. The head, (rather chubby), chef and owner sat us down and then dished out our food whilst telling us what each one was. It was so nice to get that kind of treatment and to have all this wonderfully presented food explained to us.
Here's what we had.

1) Cold pea soup with sesame pudding
2) Tuna sashimi (raw) with anchovy mayonnaise, salad leaves & fried garlic
3) Potatoe dumpling with a baby octopus inside & pickled wild grass
4) Thick ginger soup with snapper, cabbage & parma ham
5) A tasting plate of 7 different bits including an egg & asparagus omlette, eel sushi & Chinese pork spring roll
6) Tempura veg wrapped in sea bass in a fish stock
7) Poached beef & bamboo shoots & spinach
8) Rice with whole baby shrimp with pickled seaweed, mini flour dumplings in lemongrass soup
9) Strawberry ice-cream with wild leaf cake & Cream custard in a caramelised brown sugar & vinegar sauce.

To wash it down we opted for a glass of shochu on the rocks followed by a cool nama biiru, (draft beer). We left Kyoto very happy.

Kyoto

Kyoto hit us hard after the wonderfull time we'd had in Hiroshima. It's a much larger city and seems impersonal as a result. It didn't help that when we arrived, (after a brilliant trip on a bullet train), the weather was frankly shockingly cold and very rainy which dampened not only our clothes but our spirits too.
We'd been told that Kyoto is the proverbial jewel of Japan and that thecherry blossom wold be in full effect so we were rather disappointed to find that it was on it's way out and that it looked a little drab against a grey sky. Our mood dropped a little further when we quickly realised that, unlike in Hiroshima, this was not a city to wander in. Everyone says that Kyoto is beautiful and, maybe we didn't see it in it's best light or maybe we weren't at our best, but we just didn't really 'get it'. It just seemed like any other big, sprawling, expensive city.
That said we have had some wonderful days here wandering around the ancient temples and eating fine food. We took the 'Path of Philosophy' from just behind our accommodation which, by the way, is a charming traditionalstyle Japanese house run by a very un-traditional mix of an American, a Scot & a Japanese woman, which boosted our spirits. It's a gentle stroll along a river and through toriis and shrines hidden in the woodland.



The river is bordered by cherry blossom trees and Japanese couples were out in force vying for a decent spot to have their picture taken arm in arm. The blossom really does add a wonderfully 'serene' quality to everything and I'm glad we've been able to catch it before it goes. Japan practically worships the blossom and it's appearance sends the nation in to a kind of frenzy, lovers sit under it, old women chat, men discuss things with their friends and groups lay out blue tarpaulins and picnic beneath it.
Unfortunately you do tend to get herded around the temples and the shrines and you're always accommpanied by large Japanese tour groups and before you know it youre back out on the street where you started. It made us realise why the Japanese tourists behaved the way they did throughout S.E. Asia, even in their own country they're corraled together and they beetle off taking pictures of each other in front of trees, rocks, toriis & shrines.



There's no sense of 'breathing in' a historic or venerable place just the need to visit it to tick it off their list.
It was here that we really started to miss home, the crap weather and the high cost made us very melancholy and we wished we could drop everything and head away from the rain to a small Greek island to get a tan and drink wine.
Luckily the rain eased off after a few days and Kyoto was once again looking good so we jumped on a bus and headed off to see the highly bling 'Golden Temple', (it really is all gold!), and a famous rock garden. The garden is a perfect example of the Zen philosophy as you can only see 14 rocks from any position which are placed within an immaculately raked gravel 'garden'. If one sits in contemplation one can see within the garden whatever you wish to see. A magical 15th rock should also appear once you've reached your spiritual zenith. We know it's there, we looked at the model. Here's the highly serene and zen-like garden.



To banish our homesickness we headed to an Irish pub, (called 'Tadgers' or something), to grab a taste of home and a Sunday roast. It was rubbish.

Miyajima day trip

To break the monotony and in a bid to escape the crap wether we took a day trip to Miyajima, a wee island 45 minutes away by train. The island is home to what's known as Japan's third best attraction, a huge wooden 'torii' or gate that, when the tide is high, sits out at sea in a small bay. The tide was low however so the magnificent torii was mud-locked and all around it elderly Japanese folk dug and rooted around in the mud for cockles. All over the island wild deer run, or more truthfully sit, free and there's many warnings urging visitors to be careful as the deer have a tendancy to eat bag straps and boat tickets. We witnessed first hand a gang of deer attempting to eat a poor Japanese rickshaw driver... and his rickshaw.



The island is pretty small and we took a cable car up to the top to get a clear view of the rest of the archipelago. There are monkeys up there that also eat unsuspecting tourists but luckily they were off having their lunch. The view is great as was the walk back down through the trees that Beth & I took instead of paying 1000000000pounds to ride the car back down.

Hiroshima

We arrived in Japan at Hiroshima not really knowing what to expect. Of all the places we've visited, Japan conjures up the strongest images in our minds. Images of Geishas tripping down streets, goth & cyberpunk styled kids playing with their mobiles while impossibly stylish young ladies totter around in expensive high-heels and old men bow to anyone and everyone. As it happens most of this is true it would seem. The Japanese are amazingly friendly, peacefull, stylish and desperately polite. From the moment we touched down we were treated so well that it made our head spin. This even applies to the 'friendly' customs official who, on seeing us wobbling through cutoms under the weight of our backpacks, politely dragged us off to one side and proceeded, politely, to root through all our stuff. They're so unused to seeing backpackers, (understandable considering the cost of this place), that they didn't really know what to do. The hooky DVDs we'd bought didn't bother them but they got quite confused over my sterile medical kit and syringes especially when they misheard me explaining that it was a 'sterile' kit and thought I'd said 'steroid'.
A bus journey later and we were in our hotel, it was only a simple 'Comfort Hotel' but we'd managed to get it on the cheap through the nice lady at the tourist information office. It was a mere 35pounds a night and not the 50pounds that we were probably going to have to get used to spending. It's amazing how expensive it is here. Probably no more so than at home but the difference is that you don't have to buy three meals a day everyday at home. We'd gotten used to being wealthy in S.E. Asia and here we were right back to where we are at home money-wise. Suddenly our accommodation budget had shot from $15 dollars a night to anything from 50quid up! On the plus side our room did have a cube-like bathroom and a toilet with a built in bidet that washed your bum with hot water. The hotel also had vending machines for instant noodles and beer! This was obviously a highly classy establishment.
There's also vending machines on pretty much every street corner selling pop, hot or cold cans of coffee and the humourously named beverage 'Pacori Sweat'.
Anyhow, we settled in to Hiroshima very easily indeed. It's a fantastic city with a brilliant small-town feel to it. It's just like any other city in that you can get everything you want and the transport allows you to go whereever you want, whenever you want and yet it's small enough to get to know in a couple of days. It's also rapidly becoming a very trendy area as more and more funky bars, (the kind you'd be pleased of in Brighton or London), and boutiques open up. The best thing about it is that these places are still relatively quiet and uncrowded as Hiroshima itself is a very peacefull town. The streets are lined with the uber-cool Japanese and we felt more than a little dour wandering about in our big 'North Face' coats and heavy walking shoes.
The first thing we did here was to visit the infamous 'A-Bomb Dome' & 'Peace Museum'. The dome is the old Prefecture building and was one of the only buildings left standing after the Americans dropped 'Little Boy' from the 'Enola Gay' directly above it back in 1945. It now stands as a reminder of the destructive power of nuclear and atomic weapons and it's a strangley beautiful sight as it sits there in the peace of the park bordered by the river and surrounded by cherry blossoms and families picnicing.
The Peace Museum is a more sombre affair as it charts the history of Japan & Hiroshima up until that terrible day and it's aftermath. The people of Hiroshima have taken it upon themselves to work towards a nuclear weapon free World and every year they hold an event to commemorate the destruction of Hiroshima and make the 'Peace Declaration'. In the entrance foyer to the museum there is a huge clock that counts the days since the last nuclear test and it resets everytime a new test is made. It was pretty startling to see that it was only at 40 odd days. The Hiroshimans(?) take all this in their stride and, though they are aware of their cities unique place in history, they're a very vibrant and upbeat people.
After the drama of the dome & museum a walk in the park was just what we needed and just what we did. We also walked the streets pausing only to press our faces up against the windows of high class and very stylish shoe and hat shops like hungry school kids. Beth mentally bought about a thousand pounds worth of shoes whilst walking from the park to the bar. The bar in question was called 'KOBA', this won't mean anything to those of you who aren't from Brighton but it made us feel a little closer to home as we sat in the bar and chatted to the bar man and his mate about the coincidence. He also introduced us to 'shochu', no, that's not his mate but a variation on 'sake' taht's apparently coming back into fashion with the young Japanese. It used to be the drink of choice for the drunks and the disillusioned but now, thanks to places like KOBA, it's on the up again. There are lots of different types made from things like rice, leaves and sweet potatoes, our fave was one distilled from brown sugar. We developed quite a taste for shochu over the next few days.
We also indulged in a local speciality called 'Okonomiyaki'. It translates as litterally 'cook anything you like' and it comes in the form of a pancake stuffed with cabbage, noodles and meat or fish that's cooked in front of you on a hot-plate and then smothered in a kind of brown sauce and eaten hot and it's absolutely bloody delicious!



Over the next few days the weather deteriorated a bit and the blue skies were replaced with clouds and outbreaks of rain so we spent a fair bit of time in shops looking at robots and wandering through the many arcades watching in awe as kids bashed away with perfect timing and lightning reflexes on some kind of crazy Japanese drum-based game of skill.



That night Beth & I bit the bullet and popped into a very Japanesey noodle shop and did lots of pointing at the menu & miming of animals until I got a lovely ramen noodle soup and Beth got some utterly great tempura shrimp & veg, with cold noodles which the waitress old her she had to dip into her pot of soy sauce.
All in all it was a great introducton to Japan and we left for Kyoto in very high spirits.

Beijing

...is a queer sort of a place. On first inspection it's like any big city, only it seems spread out a lot more and someone, (possibly the government), appears to have coated the entire place in dust and dirt. It really is filthy. It didn't help that the weather wasn't great and just added to the whole 'musty' feel. For the first time since we left home we felt like we were actually 'travelling' and having to fend for ourselves. The first obstacle we encountered was finding an ATM machine, this we did with great aplomb by pushing our debit card into an imaginary slot and rubbing our finger and thumb together to recreate the internationally recognised symbol for 'cash' whilst a bemused security guard looked on. Eventually we stumbled across a cab driver who knew what we were after.
Cashed up and in a cab we headed to the Far East International Hostel where we were dumped by a tiny side street as cars can't actually drive down the street it's in. Having no idea where we were or how to communicate this I'm ashamed to say I had a bit of a paddy. Luckily two passing Aussies saw our plight and took us to the Hostel where we checked in to a room that, and maybe I'm being over generous here after Hong Kong, was so big we could actually pass one another on the way to the toilet.
That night we headed off into the streets of Beijing to find the renowned Li Quin Duck House, Beijing's finest purveyors of Peking Duck. Beth was practically salivating at the thought of the crispy duck pancakes as we wandered around down more and more residential streets trying to find the damn place. We were about to give up when like a sign from God three pissed up Beijing business dudes stumbled past and I spotted a handy sign on the fornt of a tri-shaw leading us on.
Inside the place was pandemonium. It's set in a roofed courtyard behind a run down old house in the corner of an unmarked street. Clearly everyone in there was celebrating just finding the place and the duck was flowing nearly as quickly as the beer. as you enter you're confronted with a wee chef working away in front of a huge brick oven and the smell of duck roasting over wood and herbs wafts over you tantalisingly as you stand in line admiring the pictures of the owner with various ambassadors and Geoff Hoon.



Once seated they roast a whole duck for you and then bring it up to your table to look at, much as a sommelier would do with a bottleof wine. I was tempted to run my finger along it's back, give it a lick and nod with aproval. They then cut it into slices and bring it back to you with a stack of pancakes, chopped cucumber & spring onion, and plum sauce. The duck is so moist and delicious that from the moment it arrived until we finished our plates we literally didn't utter a word. We went to bed happy.
The following day we headed off with a billion other assorted Chinese and tourists to visit Tiananmen Square. We'd been told, by the guidebook, that tourists often feel uncomfortable confronted by such a massive display of governmental power as the square but frankly I couldn't see it. For a start I'm sure it would've been more impossing if someone hadn't decided to build Chairman Mao's mausoleum smack in the middle of it. After the square we headed off to take in the infamous Forbidden City.



Here we got shafted as we'd been told that the audio tour guide was narrated by none other than Roger Moore but it turned out to be some unknown woman.



I wanted Roger! Despite this initial dissapointment we strolled around the Forbidden City marvelling at the fact that most of it was closed and covered in scaffolding, the sheer number of Japanese tour groups and the fact that it didn't feel in the least bit impossing, ancient or forbidden. Maybe we've become a little blase having seen so many historical sights in the last three months.
After the Forbidden City we stumbled into a park and into a Chinese tea house. Here we were served tea the traditional way by two young ladies. I was very happy. The tea was good and it was interesting to learn how tea is served and how it should be drunk. Women should hold their cup in a dainty fashion with just their thumb & forefinger, (symbolsing the phoenix and beauty), whereas men hold it in the full fist like a bear, strong and powerful. We slurrped away merrily and very nearly bought some had Beth not pointed out that we could probably pick some up in the shops for a third as much. They had nice teapots though.



We decided to head up to what's fast becoming the 'trendy' drinking area in Beijing which turned out to be remarkably like Hoxton. Funky bars line the streets and there's a very new looking lakeside development of cafe/bars & restaurants. We grabbed lunch here and had a beer or two whilst watching the young trendy Beijingers wander past. In the middle of our lunch and people watching, who should stroll past but Boris Johnson. I kid you not.



Beijing is a crazy place, it feels like it's on the cusp of a radical change. There's suddenly a kind of freedom for it's young citizens and there's a general feeling of renewal in the air. Kids walk around sporting designer label clothes and traditional dress whilst chatting on their mobiles outside funky bars. Maybe it's my ignorance of their troubled history or maybe it's just that a lot of places we've visited in the last three months have felt a bit like this, but I didn't really take it in as much as I feel I should've.



The following day we left bright and early on a rubbish coach to go visit 'The Great Wall'. A wall which apparently never worked as a barrier to the Monguls as they just bribed the sentries. A wall, which was once China's ultimate way of protecting itself and keeping people out, that is now used as a symbol of the new 'open' China on it's tourist visas.



The wall is seriously impressive. It stretches out for miles, (5000km to be precise), meandering over the crests of hills befor swooping down into valleys, disappearing momentarily from view. It snakes off in front and behind along the whole vista of China that spreads out before you. It's huge and impossing and we had to walk 10km of it in under four hours. Didn't seem too difficult to us either whilst we were stood booking it in the travel centre but, let me tell you, it's not easy when you have to clamber up loose rock, crumbling stone and steps that are so tiny that I could barely get my big toe on them.
We'd avoided Badaling and opted for the non-touristy part that runs between Simatai and Jinshanling which turned out to be a great choice as we had whole swathes of the wall to our little group of five, oh, and the various Chinese folk who kept joining us to try and flog us water, t-shirts and postcards. There really is no escape.
We walked and chatted, stopping every so often for snaps and a breather in a guard tower, marvelling at the scale of the thing and the astonishingly beautiful scenery around us.



It's such a remote area and it's so mercifully peaceful that it seems impossible to imagine the tourist nightmare that is the Badaling section. (Apparently they have camel rides there. Camel rides!). Damn windy though.
The following day we visited the Temple of Heavan Gardens in the rain and Beth made friends with a woman on a stall selling wafers and bought a bag of them which we munched whilst wandering back to the hotel. The temperature had dropped mightily and we spent a whole fiver each on a pair of North Face coats in the local shop.

The journey to Beijing

From Hong Kong we boarded a train to make the 25 hourjourney to Beijing. We'd lashed the cash a bit and opted for the deluxe soft-sleeper option which got us a berth to ourselves complete with hot water, doilies, an illuminated message board displaying only in Chinese and a seemingly 'un-switch-offable' soundtrack of Chinese pipe music. Thankfully I worked out how to switch this off after about an hour. Anyhow, the cabin was great and we were highly thankfull that we didn't have to worry about anyone else in our small box which was to be our home for the next full day. China raced passed us at breakneck speed for most of the journey as we tucked into our feast of the old favourite Dairylea and ham sarnies, crisps, instant noodles, (which were surprisingly nice), choccie bics and a nice cheap bottle of red. Fortune had smiled on me that shopping trip and had blessed me with a small pot of 'Marmite' which we had for brekkie so everything was right in the World.
Eventually we pulled into Beijing station and set about trying to find ourlves a cash machine & a taxi to take us to our hotel.

Hong Kong

After the Old World beauty of Vietnam, Hong Kong comes as quite a shock. Like London, New York or Paris but with a million times as many Burberry, Louis Vuitton & Tiffany's & Co. outlets, a chav's heaven. Although a heaving and pulsating city it's deathly silent in comparison to the streets of Vietnam. Orderly lights help you cross the road and the futuristic public transport network is clean, (eating and drinking on the tube, buses or trams is banned), and delay-free. Though by far the biggest shock was the cost. We have been wealthy these past 3 months in S.E. Asia and we are now back to feeling like paupers sneaking about amongst the wealthy designer clad Hong Kongites, who are exceedingly well groomed at all times. Another mistake we made was accidentally arriving during the 'Rugby Sevens' THE biggest event hosted annualy by Hong Kong that attracts all the rugger buggers from far Western climes. The bars were packed, everyone talking rugger and everything had increased in price by 50%.
The room we had booked - the most expensive yet - was inside the rather incongrousy named 'Mirador Mansions'. The name is more than a little misleading. The 'Mansions' are in fact an emormous block housing what can only be described as a labyrinth the scale of which the ancient Greeks would be proud of. Shops, restaurants and way to many hostels to be healthy are confined within these bleak and crumbly walls. On arrival we were led to our twin room and marvelled at the size whilst the owner apologetically explained that the hot water was broken and would we like to stay there tonight anyway? The room was aproximately 5' x 7' but it was okay because it did include a 24" TV and a 'bathroom'. The bath was about 2' long with the sink situated over the toilet. We dumped our bags and found the recommended 'Lee Gardens Guesthouse'. Although much the same set up, the rooms were brighter and the building block slightly less oppresive with a fabulously friendly old Chinese owner called Charly Chan and, although a shared bathroom, we jumped at the chance to change rooms the following night.



Now that we could settle ourselves for the next few days, we started exploring Hong Kong. It looks exactly like it does on the tin. As most shops, bars and restaurants are hidden within the confines of towering blocks, the streets are jam packed with neon signs advertising the myriad treasures that lie within the interiors of the buldings. 'Lee Garden guesthouse', (for those who are interested), is on the 8th floor (8/F) whilst there may be a dim sum restaurant or a tea house on the 2/F and a foot massage parlour on the 3/F. Whilst most other city's shop depend largely on passing trade, you really need to know what you are looking for here. It is also the best place in Asia to stock up on essentials and Ben made sure he got lots of packets of 'Percy Pigs'from M&S to keep him going.
That first evening we found a bar in Kowloon and slowly drank our very expensive lager whilst watching the sun set and the lights come on over on Hong Kong Island.
The weather was slightly disappointing and very hazy, but we still managed a walk around the Peak, accessed by the funicular tram. We really fancied a sandwich and bought some bread, 'Dairylea' and 'Bernard Matthews Turkeyham' from a supermarket along with some pickled onion flavour 'Monster Munch' and 'Quavers' for an impromptu picnic.



From the top there are great views of Hong Kong Island's Central district as well as the harbour and out towards Kowloon. The days passed quickly and on our third night we made friends with a lovely bunch of American Graphic designers who all work for Nike here in Hong Kong. Several Hoegaardens, and tequilla shots later they parted with some staff 30% discount cards for us as well as lots of insider knowledge about the city, (Don't stay longer than 2 nights, was one very useful comment). To nurse our hangovers the following morning we had THE best English breakfast in the World let alone Asia at 'The Flying Pan'. Tammy the American owner is very prowd of Hong Kong and gave us loads of tips about how else we could spend our time in this crazy city.



Hong Kong was nice an' all that but it confused us a bit and made us look forward even more to ournext stop, Beijing.