Hyperink Question of the month

What was the best book you read in the last year?

Without a doubt the stand out novel of the past year, for me, was A Visit from the Goon Squad by Jennifer Egan. This Pulitzer Prize winning work encapsulates a generational angst as it interweaves a variety of stories and characters involved in the American music scene at the turn of the twenty-first century. The carefully controlled prose exposes the frailties and weaknesses of each character while delicately balancing them against their achievements and ambitions. The narrative, which effortlessly tracks between the American coasts, is often bleak in dealing with topics such as suicide and drug use, but also offers a glimmer of hope through the drive and determination of many of the protagonists. Egan’s ability to adapt her style and voice, even writing a complete chapter through infographics, draws the reader through the disparate but interlinked tales and provides a much needed polemic on the current human condition. Other fine texts can be found at www.hyperink.com.

The Hangover

So the holiday is over and I have begun teaching again. This means two things. The first being that I am back in front of classes of eager students imparting my in depth knowledge of the English Language for which I can only apologise. The other more alarming point is that I only have two non-consecutive days off a week.

I know, I know, woe is me. I’m not complaining about my schedule, more about my incredibly predictable reaction to it. My days off are Sunday and Tuesday, which is not a bad couplet. The only problem is that Sunday. Anyone who has worked with me knows that I am vexed by that very British of characteristics. Namely that when I finish a weeks work I am overwhelmed by a powerful urge to sit in a dark bar gripe and moan about work until I am suitably drunk. In Ireland, while I was working, that meant gallons of Guinness and usually a kebab, but following that heady combination I would have between two and three days off.

Now in Japan the post-work session comprises an Izakaya near my home station, a few beers and a bottle or two of a popular spirit Shaw Chew (probably not spelt that way). The unfortunate upshot of this is a hangover on Sunday and back to school on Monday. This dreadful cultural illness means there is a lot of pressure on poor little Tuesday to deliver a great and relaxing day out.

Now some Tuesdays clearly fail under the immense expectation laid on them, some merely offer up whatever they can, but some perform brilliantly. What follows is a brief description of my most recent Tuesday, and in case you’re wondering it was a winner.

Two stops away from Kamonamiya is a tiny unassuming station called Hakawaya, which gives access to a day hike up to Ishigakiyama Ichiyajo Historical Park. The station itself has only the one platform and nothing else but a miniscule old building that doesn’t look like it has been developed since the 1920s. Stepping off the train is to step into fairly rural Japan. The walk to the park takes you through citrus groves and finally gives you a cracking view back over Odawara city and out to the Pacific.

A few shrines dot the path and there are regular signs describing Japanese literary greats who have found inspiration from this area. By the time you have struggled up the two kilometre climb you reach Ishigakiyama Ichiyajo Park, which once you have fought to get your breath back and taken advantage of some of the ubiquitous vending machines, is a pretty special place.

The story behind the park is that of the one night castle, no no not karaoke again, but a history lesson of sorts. On this site in 1590 a warlord Toyotomi Hideyoshi planned to attack Odawara castle (see previous blog). To give his troops a decent base of operations he decided to build a castle, the stone foundations of which can still be seen crumbling among the trees.To keep the element of surprise, however, he made sure that the construction was hidden behind the foliage. When the castle was complete he ordered all the tress be cut down over night to reveal the large fortress. This is why the area has become known as one night castle. The defenders in Odawara, had been keeping watch for a force on the march only to be taken by surprise by a castle which had been built overnight. His tactic was a success and the defending Hojo clan in Odawara were eventually defeated.

Now the hilltop park is filled with topiary, copses and small shrines, but does give amazing views of Sagami Bay and the surrounding region. Rolling down the hillside are small citrus farms covering the mountain in line after line of trees. Each farm seems to compromise a metal shed totally rusted by the relentless weather.

I hope these pictures do the walk justice, because as you now know all too well it is unlikely I’m going to get out on Sunday, you know, because of the hangover.

Oh and before I forget i discovered a local tree with a cracking name; the naked tree. The name comes from the local custom of stripping off all your… Ha no it doesn’t it is so called because the bark peels off and exposes a bright red wood.

RocknRolla

Following my aquatic contortions in Ito I made my way to Dogeshima, which is on the western coast of the Izu Peninsular. It took about two hours to get to, but was well worth the trip.

This tiny town is famous for huge pumice rock structures that emerge from the sea dramatically creating a sheltered harbour. And yes before you ask Pumice is the stuff that you scrape your feet with and no I didn’t try sorting out my own feet. I think I would have been arrested for causing a major biohazard in the Pacific Ocean. It was a photo geek’s dream so I will share a few of my snaps with you. Some of these are taken from a boat being thrown around in a fairly choppy sea so I apologise if they are not entirely level.

Hot Tub Time Machine

Warning: This post contains references to moments of nudity and raw fish. It should not be read by anyone with a nervous disposition.

There is nothing like a bit of public nudity to help you unwind, and there wasn’t even a chance of me being arrested for hideous perversity.

For those of you who don’t know I have been on holiday for the past ten days and catching up on some of my sightseeing. In general I thought most of this would be of no interest to you so have been pretty quiet. However, for the past two days I have been on the Izu peninsular checking out some of the relaxed seaside towns within spitting distance of Tokyo.

I started in Ito, which by all accounts is a town that was popular in the early nineties and late eighties, but now feels a little like a ghost town. I was there during the Obon holiday, which might explain why there was no one on the streets at night, but generally the town felt a little bit abandoned. That is not to say it wasn’t a really nice place to hang out. During the day I spent time at the beach, which is right in the middle of town and was chock full of Japanese families doing what Japanese families do during the summer. This appears to mean that they slowly cook themselves in the sun, sip beer and jump in and out of the sea. Does that remind you of any other nation?

The only time I left the beach was to have a bite to eat. The most fantastic sashimi I have had since I got here. Raw Sea Bream may not be to everyone’s taste but I assure you it was delicious. It tasted so good and I was so close to the sea that I’m pretty sure it had been swimming around happily just a few hours before it was cut into thin slices heaped on a bowl of rice and devoured with light soy sauce. Actually thinking about it like that is quite sad really. Sorry Sea Bream, but damn you tasted good.

The real find in Ito, though, was the hostel I stayed in called K’s House. Without doubt this is the best hostel I have ever stayed in and as some of you may know I have stayed in quite a few in various places around the world. I even used to write reviews for a website, which unfortunately no longer operates because if it did I would create a new star system and advice all of the two readers to go to K’s House in Ito (http://kshouse.jp/index_e.html).

For a cheap thirty quid you get a room in a dorm and the run of the place. The building was erected in the 1920s and the facade is made up of beautifully carved wood, while the rear backs onto a small river filled with coy carp, herons and heaps more wildlife. Inside the hostel has been beautifully restored with wood panelling and tatami matting. It really feels like an old style ryoken (hotel). If some guy had walked in dressed in full samurai get-up I would not have been surprised.

But the main attraction is the Onsen. This traditional Japanese bath changed my life. No really, I have discovered relaxation and it’s name is Onsen. The large marble room was down in the basement of the hostel at about the same level as the river. It contained a huge bath set into the floor filled from water dribbling from the mouth of a stone carving of a huge turtle. Now, as you can imagine a bath involves getting your kit off. Upstairs there was a nice clean changing room where I did just that. Stripping all the way down in the knowledge that there would more than likely be a bunch of naked Japanese men waiting downstairs. I have to admit this was not the most relaxing thing I have ever done and, you know what, it was pretty cold in that changing room. Or at least that’s my excuse.

The ritual of using these baths is that you have to wash yourself fully before you plunge into the water. Clear your mind of any separate shower cubicles, no, in fact the showers are low slung affairs on the opposite wall from the bath where you sit on a small stool and wash yourself. Needless to say when I use the words low and small in this country that takes on a whole new meaning. Picture this if you want to but I advise against it due to the fact that you may be haunted by an after image for a very long time. Nude, I sat on the tiny wooden stool and had to bend nearly double to use the shower. I used the soap provide and attempted to reach the areas that because of my folded position were hard to reach. For all intents and purposes I looked like an undiscovered Francis Bacon painting. Let me assure you that a week of half done yoga does not prepare you for these kind of contortions. The view of a westerner twisted onto a tiny stool trying to wash his body is not one that I think will fit into the highly attuned Japanese sense of aesthetics.

But I believe this is all part of the point. Twisted into an embarrassing mass of pasty white flesh I was feeling ever so slightly stupid and some might even say tense. So when I plunged into the hot bath the instant relaxation was all the more rewarding. Honestly I cannot overstate the case here. The hot water loosened all my muscles and felt absolutely perfect. All my thoughts of naked shame disappeared as I wallowed in the bath for hours. My shoebox shower in my apartment cannot even come close to this experience.

Hmmm, maybe I could live there.

Final Destination 2

So this post is going to be a bit of a double whammy of disappointment. First things first you may be wondering why I am writing this now and not dodging molten boulders as they rain down from me as I pant my way up one of the world’s 35 highest peaks. Well due to matters that are frustratingly within my control and annoyingly also out of my control I had to cancel my plans to scale Fuji. I am needless to say pretty pissed off by this and will try again another day to make it to the top of the mountain. Plus, although my last post made an eruption seem imminent in reality I don’t think that’s going to happen any time soon. Let’s be realistic about this.

So instead of climbing Fuji and watching the sun set from the peak I went to a nearby medieval castle in Odawara. not quite mountain climbing, but let me assure you there were quite a few steps so all is not lost.

I’m going to put in some of the pictures I took at Odawara castle to soften the blow for the other piece of news I have.

See doesn’t that feel a little bit better already.

Due to reasons that I will elaborate on shortly it looks like my time in Japan will be curtailed and I will be returning to the UK in October. This is a big let down for me, and depending on how you have thus far enjoyed my electronic musings could be a disappointment for you.

The reason this decision has been made is because I have been pretty unhappy with where my company stationed me. I have been living in a place called Kamonamiya, which is little more than a commuter town, and you have to bear in mind that the Japanese commute for hours. This has meant that not only does it take me an hour to get to anything even close to resembling a city, but it also costs about £20 return on the train. Not exactly a quick flit into town. It is a little like imagining you are going to be living in London only to find you have been posted to Swindon. Just on a much bigger scale.

Very early on, a week after I was placed here in fact I asked my company for a transfer to a city location. For reasons that still remain opaque to me and have never been fully explained this request was flat out rejected. Since then I have given the place time and also been looking for other work in Tokyo or even Yokohama. Unfortunately that search has proved so far fruitless. The up shot is that in all likelihood I will be returning with my tail between my legs some time in early October.

I will of course keep blogging up until then and you never know may tweak a few things and continue blogging when I return, although I imagine the title might take some explaining and the subject matter might radically alter, but there you go.

It is sad because I have surprised myself with how much I have enjoyed the actual work of teaching and have been equally taken aback by the positive feedback I have had from both my company and the parents of children I teach. Who would have thought an old cynic like me could turn his hand to teaching. I came out thinking that it was a means to an end and a way to pay the bills while I got settled and it has turned into something I really enjoyed. Ah well, live and learn.

Thank you all for your support and if this looks like changing I’ll let you know.

Oh and if you hear of any work that might suit me either back in the UK or in Ireland please drop me a line.

See, didn’t the pictures make that news easier to handle.