Tuesday 3 August 2010

The Far East: Reflections on Japan

Firstly, I should apologise for the length of time it's taken to get these final few blog posts up; it's been quite a hectic few weeks at home and it's taken me a while to get back into the mood of writing. Here, then, is a summary of everything I did in the Far East, together with links to the full blog posts:

Day 1: Belfast-London
Day 2: London-Tokyo-Beijing
Day 3: quiet day in Beijing, real Chinese food
Day 4: another quiet day in Beijing
Day 5: Tian'anmen Square and the Forbidden City, Beijing
Day 6: Summer Palace, Beijing
Day 7: quiet day in Beijing
Day 8: The Great Wall and the Ming Tombs, Beijing
Day 9: Yonghegong and Temple of Heaven, Beijing
Day 10: last day in Beijing, Peking duck
Day 11: Beijing-Tokyo
Day 12: bullet train to Hiroshima and Peace Park
Day 13: Miyajima island
Day 14: bullet train back to Tokyo
Day 15: Nikko and the Tokyo Tower
Day 16: Sushi and relaxing in Tokyo
Day 17: Imperial Gardens, and bullet train to Kyoto
Day 18: Osaka Castle
Day 19: Nijo-jo, Kinkaku-ji, Ryoan-ji and Ninna-ji, Kyoto
Day 20: quiet day in Kyoto reorganising travel plans
Day 21: bullet train to Tokyo
Day 22: Tokyo-London-Belfast

I reflected on Day 10 about China. In this final blog post, I want to reflect a bit on my time in Japan, which was undoubtedly the most enjoyable holiday I've ever had. First, I want to talk about some specific points:

Language and culture: It's undoubtedly a cliche to say that Japan is a crossroads of east and west, but it's true. More than any other foreign country I've been to, Japan felt like home: they drive on the left, they're an island nation, they use public transport in droves, there are recognisable western brands on every street corner (McDonalds and Seven-Eleven are probably the two more prominent ones). But on the other hand it feels foreign enough that you know it's not quite home: the writing is perhaps the most noticeable difference. Nonetheless, I felt at ease in Japan in a way I didn't feel at all in China; China was unremittingly big and alien, and you couldn't get a handle on the language at all.

The Japanese language, in contrast to Mandarin, is quite easy to pick up a few words and phrases. Moreover, most people understood at least a little English: if you asked "Do you speak English?" and they answered "no", they usually understood enough to make yourself understood if you were looking for the toilet or trying to buy a train ticket. If they answer "a little", it means they're basically fluent and you should have no problems. All in all, the language situation made Japan much more hospitable than China as a place to visit, and it was all the more enjoyable as a result.

Public toilets: One major gripe I had with Japan was the state of their public toilets. They were invariably clean and tidy, but at least half the time there was no soap, or no hand dryers, or both. It may be that the Japanese expect each other to carry soap with them, but for a tourist this is a damned inconvenience, and one I wish they would put right. There are certain circumstances in which not washing one's hands is really not an option, and it really annoys (and, frankly, baffles) me how a nation which prides itself on efficiency and cleanliness should fail in such a basic aspect of hygiene.

Vending machines: Until you've been to Japan, you can't quite fathom just how many vending machines they have. They are, quite literally, everywhere. A dozen in a line would be considered perfectly normal for a typical subway station in Tokyo, selling everything from water to green tea to lemonade to beer to sake. When I say everywhere, I mean everywhere; they even have vending machines in shrines and temples. Oddly, though, they only ever seem to sell drinks; I don't remember ever seeing a vending machine for chocolate bars, or any food of any kind.

Weather: I suppose it's a peculiarly British thing to go somewhere and complain about the weather, but in this case I think I have licence to. In China, it was pretty hot (occasionally hitting 36C), but not too humid. In Japan, however, even though it wasn't often above about 28C it was stiflingly humid, even at night, and it was much less bearable. There were a few days when it wasn't too bad, but most of the time it was sticky and not all that pleasant to be outside. I guess I picked the wrong month; April or May would have been perfect, or perhaps September; the summer is simply too hot and (nearly) tropical.

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When it comes to the Japanese trains, where do I start? It's self-evident from the moment you set foot in Japan that, in spite (maybe even because?) of it now being privately operated, the Japanese have running an integrated, efficient, punctual railway network down to a fine art. Perhaps the most important thing from the point of view of a tourist is that nearly everything is signposted in English, even at small stations in the middle of nowhere.

I suppose, before I go on, I should make one caveat: when I say "the Japanese", what I really mean is the Japan Rail Group, which is the collection of six companies that make up what was, until 1987, the nationalised network. There are a myriad of other private companies competing for business on all sorts of other lines; these have no affiliation with JR, and as such they are not valid for use on the JR Pass, and so I didn't use anything other than JR trains.

The sheer size of the (JR) network, and of the trains themselves, is also impressive. The number of different lines operated by JR in the Tokyo area is mind-boggling: there are 36 lines operated by JR East in the Tokyo area, which collect into about five or six main arteries which take commuters into and out of Tokyo city centre. The busiest station in Japan - and, indeed, the world - is not Tokyo station proper, but Shinjuku station on the western edge of the city centre, which is used by a staggering 3.64 million people every day. (For comparison, Britain's busiest station, London Waterloo, is used by about 500,000 people every day, counting both mainline and underground services.)

Even the shortest suburban trains in Tokyo are ten carriages long, with many being 15. And they need to be; even in the middle of the day, most trains are standing-room only, and in well into the evening - even as late as 9pm - trains are breathing-room only. The Shinkansen trains I was on were busy, though not crowded; that said, I was barred from getting the fastest trains between Tokyo and Osaka, and I suspect they would have been pretty busy.

One key difference is that there's enough track that, at most stations, each separate line can have its own platform. At Tokyo station, for example, platforms 4 and 5 are used only by Yamanote Line trains; this is what makes it possible to have a train every three minutes on pretty much every line out of Tokyo. It also means that finding where your train goes from is easy, because you don't have to peer up at a huge departures board, such as at Birmingham New Street, to find which train you need to get and then wait for which platform you need.

The Shinkansen undoubtedly make a huge difference to the railway network: being able to speed across the country in double-decker trains with huge amounts of legroom and hundreds of seats at speeds of up to 186mph means that the train is undoubtedly the most enjoyable way of getting around Japan. More importantly, though, it means there's enough capacity on the old mainlines to run commuter trains every three minutes.

What really impresses me about the Shinkansen network, however, is that they haven't skimped by putting the stations outside the city centres. The tracks have been threaded through the very centre of Tokyo, Kyoto, Osaka and countless other cities to provide stations right in the heart of the urban centres of Japan. When, occasionally, such as in Osaka, they have had to resort to building new stations, they are fully connected with the existing network. It means that getting a Shinkansen train isn't like getting a plane: there isn't endless amounts of hassle in getting to and from the Shinkansen station, it's exactly the same place as you'd get any other train, albeit a different platform which might be a slightly longer walk.

You've probably heard that Japanese trains stop to the nearest centimetre and measure delays in seconds: this is absolutely true. The stopping positions are so accurate that they have barriers along the side of the platform except where the doors are going to be (like platform edge doors, such as on the Jubilee line extension). This makes it easy, for instance, for staff boarding a train to wait at exactly the right place.

You could, pretty much, set your watch by the Shinkansen departures; departures on classic lines are still punctual but I did experience a few delays of no more than two minutes. One other useful feature, though, is that on certain trains - the Yamanote line in particular - they display information of delays on other key lines, and there were clearly lots of delays on one particular day (I can't remember which), they just happened not to affect me.

It did feel, however, that this was all achieved by having more staff than the British railways would; there were always several people on the platforms - which are all very long indeed - at any one time, and not just the conductor but several catering staff on each train. But it does seem to be worth it: it delivers a railway network that is probably the best in the world.

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Unlike China, I found Japan to be a welcoming and thoroughly enjoyable place to visit, with probably the best trains in the world. Monetarily speaking, I got the value of the JR Pass, in the sense that it was probably about the same price as a return from Tokyo to Hiroshima. However, I could have used it much more than I actually did, and I would have loved to have done so. Next time I go to Japan I intend to spend a few days just train-hopping to get a better feel for the network; in spite of being on 56 JR trains in twelve days, most of those were either Shinkansen trains, or trains between Tokyo and Minami-Senju. (In the meantime, I've got the JR timetable to try and make sense of, so I can be prepared for when I go back!)

There is one experience which stands out above all others: Hiroshima. The Peace Park and Museum had much more of an effect on me than I expected; I didn't walk into the building a nuclear abolitionist, but I did walk out of it one. I truly hope that humanity can work together to get rid of the horrible threat of nuclear weapons (though that's not to say I believe in unilateral disarmament). The park is a beautiful testament to the undying power of the human spirit: in spite of the devastation in Hiroshima, the city came back to life, and was rebuilt from the ashes, and stands as a triumph of peace over war.

There are many other experiences from Japan which I will remember for the rest of my life: the bullet trains, undoubtedly, but also the crush of the very busiest suburban trains; the many beautiful shrines in Nikko; the temples of north-west Kyoto; fresh sushi; and Tokyo Tower by night. Being able to share much of this with Jonathan made the whole experience even more enjoyable, and I thank him for joining me for a week.

Having to come home a couple of days early was disappointing, but I am very glad that I did, and that I was able to attend my grandfather's funeral. Without my grandparents' support, I would not have had the means to go to China and Japan, and for that I thank them both. My grandpa was a civil engineer, and he was the one who first engendered a love of transportation; I regret that I didn't get the chance to share my tales of China and Japan with him.

I have fallen in love with Japan, in a way I haven't fallen in love with anywhere else before. It's foreign enough to be exciting, but not so foreign as to be daunting; the shrines are beautiful and the mountains imposing; the people are welcoming and the language accessible; and the trains are fantastic. It's definitely a matter of when, and not if, I go back to Japan, and until I do I will be itching to return.

The Far East: Day 22

I awoke on my last day in Japan at 06:30 on Thursday morning. Since I was flying west, this was equivalent to 22:30 the previous night, and I would be effectively staying up for 24 hours. I checked out of Aizuya Inn for the last time, and walked to Minami-Senju, getting the familiar route to Tokyo station.

Joban line, 0723 Minami-Senju to Ueno
Yamanote line, c0740 Ueno to Tokyo

At Tokyo station, I went to the ticket desk to reserve a seat for the Narita Express at 08:00. By this stage it was 07:50, and while it was a bit tight I knew I could make it. By the time I got to a window it was 07:54, and the guy, who didn't speak any English, indicated that I needed 15 minutes to get to the platform. I knew I didn't, and I wanted to be in the airport good and early given I wasn't sure what I'd have to do with my booking given that I'd had to change it over the phone. But he insisted, and so he gave me a reservation for the next Narita Express at 08:30.

Fed up, I headed directly for the Narita Express platforms anyway, and sure enough I was at platform 4 for 07:59, and the 08:00 train still waiting. I showed one of the platform staff my seat reservation, and they waved me on to the train, saying "change it on board". So I got on, and stood for about 20 minutes waiting for the conductor; I said "I think I may have got the wrong train", to which he responded with an understanding "Ah!", tapped at his machine, and said "Find an empty seat, and sit down".

I understand why the guy at the ticket desk thought it was a bit tight, and I wish I'd known enough Japanese to insist that I could have made it. I do think 15 minutes is far too long to walk through the station to get to the Narita Express platforms, though; and he can't have been saying that you can't make reservations less than 15 minutes before departure, because that's simply not true (I'd done it three times previously!). I guess he was only doing his job, and it all worked out alright in the end; still, it was the only black mark against an otherwise perfect operation by the Japanese Railways.

Narita Express #11, 0800 Tokyo to Narita T1, arr 0901

Having eaten some breakfast on the train, I headed to departures to check in for my flight. ANA had introduced self check-in machines for the first time at Narita that morning; while there was a bit of a queue to check in, it all seemed to be going very smoothly, and I used the machine without any problem at all. (I bet you if it had been Heathrow it would have been an absolute nightmare on the first day!)

What's more, the machine coped with my altered booking without any hassle whatsoever; I got a printed receipt of the changed intinerary with my boarding card, but other than that it was completely normal. I headed through security and immigration to the gate, where I found myself in the same part of Narita that I'd used three weeks earlier (on Day 2) while connecting to Beijing. I even used the same computer to check my emails.

All of ANA's boarding gates at Narita are pretty close together: on the way from London to Beijing, I arrived at gate 55, and departed from gate 54; arriving in Tokyo from Beijing I arrived at gate 56; and I left Tokyo to head home from gate 57. I had originally been booked on a Virgin Atlantic flight on Saturday (VS901), on an ANA codeshare, which would have meant flying home on an A340; as it was, however, I was in another ANA Boeing 777:

Flight NH201: 1135 Tokyo Narita T1S to Heathrow T3 arr 1600
Operated by All Nippon Airways (ANA), using a Boeing 777
Pushback 1137, wheels-up 1159, wheels-down 1535, on stand 1547

NH201 ranks as one of the best flights I have ever been on, even if it was a bit confusing. We took off, and they served lunch. After that, they turned the cabin lights down and let us sleep (even though it was broad daylight outside). About three hours before landing, they woke us up, and served... lunch.

The first lunch was again two options: the 'western' option was a classic seafood chowder, but not being a fan of seafood I went for the more 'Japanese' option of a pork cutlet with rice. It was nice, but it was glazed in a strange, gloopy, brown sauce which was quite sweet, and burnt in places. Again there was some sort of inedible salad with it, as well as a few pieces of fruit for dessert. It wasn't the worst meal I've had on an aeroplane, but it wasn't the best either. The second lunch, served over western Sweden, was much better, if lacking in quantity: it consisted of a burger, which was excellent if a little small, a creme caramel, and some kind of salad.

I had a right-hand window seat, and the views were stunning. Not only was Japan fairly clear for the climbout - in which I got some good views of Niigata, on the northern coast of Japan - but the views of Sweden and Denmark were pretty good too. The pièce de resistance, though, was the approach to Heathrow: we flew in a standard Lambourne approach to 27R, with no circling. While this is a perfectly standard route, I hadn't flown it before, and it was a beautifully clear day over London, with very little cloud or haze to block the view.

We came in near enough due west over north London, just south of (and roughly parallel to) the M25, turning in a sweeping left turn through 135 degrees over NW London (roughly Edgware or Potters Bar), headed south-east, and then did a sweeping right turn through 135 degrees just east of Tower Bridge. I got some stunning views of central London, particularly of Tower Bridge and the Tower of London, but also of the City, of St Pancras and King's Cross, of Buckingham Palace, and of Hyde Park.

We landed 25 minutes ahead of schedule, and arrived on stand in Terminal 3 in good time. I instantly knew I was back in England: not only did one of the escalators not work, but there was an interminable walk from the gate to immigration and baggage reclaim. (Both Beijing Capital and Tokyo Narita airports were very efficient, despite being huge.) Nevertheless, I made it through immigration, retrieved my bag (which was waiting for me), and exited the arrivals hall four minutes after booked arrival time. Pretty damn good for Heathrow.

I walked with my bag to Terminal 1 to catch my connection over to Belfast. As it turned out I could perhaps have made an earlier flight, but I didn't want to risk it, so I ended up with three hours in Terminal 1 to kill. Annoyingly in all the WH Smith outlets in the terminal I couldn't find a single copy of Private Eye or Rail, so I had to make do with less interesting reading material for the flight home.

I checked in, used the internet to check my emails and catch up with a few people, and eventually headed through security. Once I was through to the huge departures hall, I looked around a bit before getting a pizza in one of the restaurants, which was really good; I hadn't realised just how hungry I'd been since getting off the flight.

Flight BD92: 1935 London Heathrow T1 to Belfast City, arr 2055
Operated by British Midland International (BMI), using an Airbus A319
Pushback 1947, wheels-up 2001, wheels-down 2052, on stand 2055

My flight ended up boarding ten minutes late, due to a late inbound, but we got away very promptly and made our take-off slot. I discovered on board that, in rearranging my flight, I had ended up in flexible economy, and so I could have some free food - which was somewhat superfluous after the big pizza. I had some shortbread and a drink, and went to the toilet. While in the toilet the captain announced "ladies and gentlemen, we'll shortly be commencing our descent..."; it took me a moment to remember that this was a short-haul flight!

I met my dad at the airport, and we went straight to my granny's house. It was good to be home, and I am very glad I got home in time for my grandpa's funeral on the Saturday. While that, in some ways, tarnished the memory of the holiday, the timing could have been a lot worse, and sacrificing two days' holiday for the sake of being able to say goodbye to my grandpa was a sacrifice well worth making.

The Far East: Days 20 and 21

I awoke on Tuesday morning to the news that my grandpa had died, in an email from my dad. This was not completely unexpected, but it was nonetheless something of a shock; he had been going downhill steadily for the previous year, since a fall while moving house in July 2009, but in the end the prostate cancer which he had warded off for most of the previous decade finally got the better of him, and he slipped away very peacefully at 9:15pm on Monday night (British time). He was surrounded by my dad (his son), my mum, my granny, and my dad's sister, who happened to have come over for a long weekend to visit him; it was serendipity that she was home at the time.

I talked to Jonathan over Skype for an hour (he happened to still be up, it being about 1am British time), before investigating how - if possible - I could change my flights home to come home a bit early. Knowing, however, that it would be several hours before my parents awoke back home, I couldn't really do all that much. I didn't feel like doing any tourism, so I just headed towards the station in Kyoto and got a few things I needed for the journey home.

Once my parents were awake, I talked to them and explained that I should be able to change the Tokyo-London flight free of charge, due to the circumstances, but would probably need a new London-Belfast ticket. Since that wouldn't be too expensive, we agreed that I would fly back on Thursday, instead of Saturday (due to my being in Kyoto, not Tokyo, I couldn't head for the Wednesday flight), and the funeral would be arranged for Friday or Saturday.

I then spent the next hour or so on the phone, first to ANA to change the Tokyo-London flight. ANA not only waived the change of fare, but also the administration fee; I am very grateful to ANA for being so kind and generous (though I suppose if I hadn't booked so last-minute I might have had a cheaper ticket and been unable to do so). I then phoned BMI, who charged me £215 for a new London-Belfast ticket, which was a bit steep but given the circumstances I just didn't care. I paid for it on MasterCard, and couldn't help but think of it like one of those ads:

Skype credit: £10.
Changing your flights home: £215.
Attending your grandfather's funeral: priceless.

There are some things money can't buy. For everything else, there's MasterCard.

Lacking in imagination, I headed for a nearby branch of Nakau, one of the Japanese fast-food places, and had a remarkably enjoyable meal of beef and rice, along with kara age, deep-fried chicken pieces which I have enjoyed many times in Wagamama's but which I'd never had the chance to try in Japan. They were excellent, and not too expensive either.

On Tuesday night I spend my final night in Ikoi-no-ie in Kyoto. On Wednesday morning, I talked to Tim Sullivan over Skype; it was 9am Wednesday in Tokyo, 1am Wednesday back home, but 5pm Tuesday in Los Angeles - aren't timezones weird? I then packed up and headed for one last Shinkansen ride back to Tokyo:

Tokaido Shinkansen, Hikari 470: 1156 Kyoto to Tokyo, arr 1441

I got a late lunch in Tokyo station, once again having an over-priced but excellent spaghetti carbonara, before heading for the Aizuya Inn in Minami-Senju once more.

Yamanote line, 1526 Tokyo to Ueno
Joban line, 1542 Ueno to Minami-Senju

On Wednesday evening, I headed into Akihabara to take one last look at the lights of Tokyo, and get some food. In the end I settled for McDonalds, after a quick look round Yodabashi Camera to see the new iPhone 4.

Joban line, 2001 Minami-Senju to Ueno
Yamanote line, c2011 Ueno to Akihabara

Yamanote line, c2115 Akihabara to Ueno
Joban line, 2125 Ueno to Minami-Senju

Back in Aizuya Inn for the last time, I settled down for my last night's sleep in Japan; in spite of how much I was loving Japan, by this stage I just wanted to be home, and I looked forward to a very long day on Thursday flying halfway round the world.

The Far East: Day 19

On Monday, I headed for a tour of the temples and shrines of north-west Kyoto, taking in four of the city's best sights, including the famous Golden Pavillion (Kinkaku-ji).

Kyoto Metro, Karasuma Line: 1130 Gozo to Karasuma Oike
Kyoto Metro, Tozai Line: 1140 Karasuma Oike to Nijojo-mae

I used the Kyoto Metro to get from my hostel to Nijo-jo; the metro consists, for the time being at least, of just two lines: the Karasuma line runs north-south and the Tozai line runs east-west, meeting each other at Karasuma Oike. I went two stops north and one stop west, which cost just ¥210 (about £1.60) for an efficient and comfortable ride.

Nijo-jo, or Nijo castle, is termed a "flatland castle", a castle built on a plain instead of a hill. It isn't quite a castle in the conventional sense; it consists of a palace surrounded by a moat, which is itself surrounded by some wonderful gardens. The palace is kept in the traditional style it was built in, complete with authentic interiors and mock-ups of how the Tokugawa shoguns would have conducted business in the palace.

Kyoto Bus 101, 1316 Horikawa Oike to Kinkakuji-michi, arr c1338

After looking round Nijo-jo for about an hour, I walked to the bus stop nearby and caught one of Kyoto's buses aimed specifically at tourists out to Kinkaku-ji, the Golden Pavillion. The bus, like Hiroshima's trams, is operates on a flat-fare pay-on-exit system, with a single costing just ¥220 (about £1.70) for anywhere in the city. Announcements at the key stops are made in English, and all the stop names are listed in romaji (roman characters) so there was no problem finding my way.

Kinkaku-ji, the Golden Pavillion, is just that: the beautiful temple, whose proper name is in fact Rokuon-ji, is covered in thick gold leaf and looks as if it was hewn out of a single piece of gold. It is magnificent, but also slightly underwhelming; unlike some other temples that's the only building of any real interest, and I spent only just over half an hour there having seen everything there was to see (albeit fairly quickly).

I grabbed a quick lunch in a nearby restaurant before walking further west to the temple of Ryoan-ji. Ryoan-ji is famous for its Rock Garden, one of the simplest and most remarkable pieces of Zen design ever created. It consists simply of a rectangular bed of white gravel, 25m by 10m, with fifteen rocks placed on the gravel at various points. It is constructed in such a way that it is only possible to see fourteen of the fifteen rocks from any given vantage point. At first it seems nice, but bland; sit for a few minutes, however, and you begin to lose yourself in thought, marvelling at the simplicity and complexity at the same time.

The rest of the temple and gardens at Ryoan-ji is not quite as spectacular, but is nonetheless very enjoyable: the temple is set in a wood on the shore of a small lake, and you could easily spend a few hours losing yourself in the grounds. But I didn't have time for that: I had one more temple to visit before closing time.

Ninna-ji is a quiet, unassuming temple about ten minutes walk to the west of Ryoan-ji, and is home to the Omuro School of the Shingon Sect of Buddhism. It was recommended to me by Tim, who visit Japan a few years ago on his gap year. It was undoubtedly the highlight of the day: the lack of bustling tourists made this temple all the more enjoyable. The temple buildings are set in a large, open garden with wide paths and tall trees; the gardens and buildings are simply beautiful, with a surprisingly colourful array of plants and trees.

Kyoto Bus 26, 1646 Omuro Ninnaji to Kyoto station, arr c1740

After a thoroughly enjoyable day, I find a nearby bus-stop and caught a bus back to Kyoto station; thanks to rush-hour traffic the journey took nearly an hour, but at least the seats were comfortable. I couldn't be bothered to think too much about what to eat, so I headed to a nearby McDonald's for a familiar - if rather boring - meal, and headed home for a good night's sleep after a long but very enjoyable day.