Musashino Musings

The second part of today’s trip was to walk from Kichijoji to the new house in Suginami city. The term “city” is a bit misleading as the Japanese slap this epithet on any former township that has long-since been absorbed into the sprawling metropolis of Tokyo. But I digress. The new gaff is about a 20 minute walk from Kichijoji which is not too difficult, even in today’s oppressive heat and humidity. By the way, I should point out this it has been f***ing hot today – 34 degrees and god-knows what humidity. Let’s just say that inside an air-conditioned department store, the humidity was 55% according to the readouts on the barometers they were selling. Anyway – I digress again.

Here we are at the outskirts of Suginami city. There is such a curious mix of shops and buildings along the road that it’s hard to get an impression of what the people living there are like. Boxing gyms nestle alongside “antique” shops, Mercedes dealers and kitchen hardware suppliers. Come to think of it, it sounds a bit like Peckham. But a more genteel version, I’m sure.

Eventually, we came to the new house, tucked away on a side street, not more than a stone’s throw to the local convenience store – or my “beer fridge” as big M calls it.  First impressions are that it seems in good order and quite a comfortable size. The road itself seems very quiet with little through traffic, so I’m sure it’s going to be quite a quiet place to live.  That’s our front wall on the right.  There seems to be a lot of dog owners in this area – not sure how the cat will feel about that, but there’s enough greenery around for him to feel at home I think. I get the impression that the neighbours are older people. Whether that’s a good thing or not remains to be seen.

Today I got my first look at what will be our hometown for the next few years at least. Well, to be strictly accurate, today I saw our hometown (Suginami city) and the nearest “bright lights” district, Kichijoji. And I must say, it’s an interesting spot.

Kichijoji is situated on the western side of Tokyo about 10 minutes on the train from Shinjuku and about 15 minutes from Shibuya. This makes it quite suburban by Tokyo standards, but it is anything but a sleepy dormitory town. Kichijoji is absolutely ram-packed with shops,restaurants, bars – you name it – all tucked away in a rabbit warren of side streets and little alleys. Big M says she has been coming here for the best part of 20 years and still hasn’t seen it all, and I can believe it. I think it would take a lifetime to find everything that’s on offer here. The most interesting part for me is Inokashira Park. We didn’t quite make it into the park today, but we got as far as a yakitori restaurant that sits alongside it. It’s called Iseya and apparently is a bit of an institution. Once inside the dark, smoky and incredibly hot interior, it becomes clear that the building is actually a series of yakitori shacks that have somehow grown together over the years. This is the only way to experience yakitori – unsanitised, earthy,organic and all the more tasty for it. While we were inside, a Summer storm brewed up – kicked off by the fierce heat and humidity. As we sweltered inside, the wind rattled against the plastic sheet nailed clumsily over the rough wooden window frames and tugged at the grimy perspex roof. Nestled against the edge of the park, this ramshackle old building suddenly seemed light years away from the modern neon-bright concrete Tokyo. I really enjoy finding these old, hidden places. And it seems Kichijoji may well have many other treasures to reveal. I’m going to enjoy finding them.

Japan is full of interesting new things to eat, but many of these require a certain degree of experience to tackle effectively. None more so than the onegiri.

The onegiri can be viewed in pretty much the same way as we view the humble sandwich – a cheap and convenient quick snack, available with a variety of fillings. Pretty much every convenience store has onegiri, making them one of the most universal sources of nourishment when the hunger pangs strike. But unlike the sandwich, there is no bread involved; instead the filling is wrapped in a triangular rice shape which is itself encased in nori seaweed. The problem is that the crispy nori goes soggy pretty quickly when in contact with the rice, so some bright spark – presumably with a black belt in origami – developed a fiendishly clever way of wrapping the onegiri so that there is a layer of plastic between the seaweed and the rice. If unwrapped correctly, the plastic wrapper detaches easily to reveal a tasty and convenient snack; if done incorrectly, you’re left with a sticky blob of rice that quickly disintegrates in your hands, leaving rice stuck everywhere.

The correct method of tackling the onegiri is as follows: Grasp the tab marked 1 at the top of the triangle and pull smartly downward. This will peel away a thin strip of the plastic all around the onegiri. Step 2: Grasp the tag marked 2 and withdraw the side of the triangle in a smooth controlled movement. Repeat for tag 3. The onegiri can now be enjoyed.

I’ve just seen the biggest f***ing butterfly in my life fly past. It was so big it was actually gliding!

This is currently my office! Isn’t technology a wonderful thing?

It’s 6.00am and I am blogging from a humble little room at my beloved Kangetsu ryokan (Japanese inn) in the sleepy Tokyo suburb of Chidoricho. We have returned to Tokyo to organise the move to the new place and generally get everything set up ready for our new life. We don’t actually sign the contracts on the new place until next Tuesday, so for a few days I am staying at my favourite cheap-and-cheerful Tokyo hotel.

The Kangetsu is an institution amongst budget-conscious travellers from around the world. Tucked away up an innocuous flight of stone steps, the hotel is actually a ramshackle group of buildings gathered around a central courtyard that is about as Japanese as you can get. There are stone steps, small ponds and a little red bridge that sets off perfectly the lush green vegetation that crowds in from all directions. Stepping through the bamboo arch into the courtyard is like stepping into a jungle clearing – a delightful and unexpected surprise in the otherwise uniformly urban surrounding streets.

I first stayed here about 4 or 5 years ago and it was one of my first experiences of Japan. As such, it holds a very special place in my heart. It was here that I discovered the vending machine that dispenses both ice-cold beer and hot coffee; it was here that I first ventured self-consciously into a traditional Japanese bath house. It was here that I first discovered what a public transport system should actually be like; every ten minutes a train arrives at the local station that will whisk you into Tokyo for about 80p.

Sure, it’s not particularly salubrious, it can be noisy and there is little in the local area by way of tourist attractions. But there is something undeniably charming about this outpost of Japanese hospitality. I love it.

It was with much trepidation that we learned that we would be travelling to Tokyo via the much-maligned Heathrow Terminal 5. I was fully expecting to get caught-up in the kind of organisational fiasco that only Britain can manage. But – to my surprise – everything seemed to go pretty much according to plan. The check-in was indeed effortless as promised on the website; our bags arrived in the same city as us, at the same time and British Airways managed to take off and land in the appropriate places without crashing.

The only thing that worried my slightly was the biometric face scanning that everyone has to go through at Terminal 5, whether you are flying internationally or not. There is something very Big Brother about that; something very New Labour Police State. Of course we all want to feel safe from lunatic suicide bombers, but there is something deeply unsettling about having my every movement tracked by some nameless state computer.

The move to Japan moves inexorably closer and still I feel we are making no headway at all with the arrangements. For the last few days, it’s been just one set back after another: The accounts software I bought last month packed up, the bank account with Nat West I’ve been trying to set up since May is STILL not operational. We still haven’t decided on what stuff is going to Japan and how it’s going to get there. And to top it all, we’ve both come down with colds. Generally I’m feeling pretty run down and miserable at the moment and at a very low ebb. I hope things start to move forward soon. At the moment I can see nothing but darkness.