Kyoto hospitality.

I found a host in Kyoto quite easily. Originally I had another as well, so as to take some load off of one host, but the other failed to let me know about contact details and seemed to lose interest in the whole affair. Fortunately the host who could deliver is very open to well-meaning vagrants and lets me stay for a long time. There are also other people in the house when I arrive, which makes the apartment more lively. For better or worse. One of them leaves after one night and the others soon follow.

I have an appointment with a friend the day following my arrival. We meet for the first time, but the atmosphere of the day is not at all like that. We visit the Silver and Gold temples as well as the Zen rock garden. The Kamogawa riverside catches my fancy and we also spend a long time there. In the evening we have the first meal in Japan that I do not fully enjoy, because it is a kind of European style meal and the taste too familiar. Afterwards we part ways, richer for the experience.

The next day I meet another local friend for lunch and another long walk and hangout at the riverside. We also cross the river on rocks, which is nicely cooling as the river washes over the rocks and the feet of those crossing. After parting I wander around for some time, only slightly lost. Eventually I return to my host's apartment, which serves as a base of operations for now. I also make sure that I have a place to go when I return to Himeji one week later.

During the few days of idleness I try to search for the perfect teapot, but much to my chagrin, do not find it. Though visiting more than a handful of stores, I find many good teapots but not a single perfect or even great one.

I do manage to find some other gifts to bring back to myself and others though, so it is not all for naught.

Facing the storm... Iga Ninpouchou!

In the morning a typhoon has come to town. Heavy rain and strong winds send us on our way to pick up the one from Yokkaichi to join us to the ninja village of Iga.

Naturally, upon entering the ninja village, we Don appropriate costumes so as to stay hidden casually. The village is a kind of a tourist tour, but it is fun to try trapdoors and see all kinds of tools and gadgets. After the tour we way lunch and head for a game centre. Sadly there is no Street Fighter IV. We play around with some games but nothing really catches our attention. We also take a look around a shopping mall, but end up buying nothing, though a small electric guitar with a built-in amplifier seems fun. The typhoon reaches some places inside the malls as well. It also destroys my umbrella. Towards the evening we have Japanese style cutlets for dinner and start getting everyone home after making sure that my next stop is Kuwana once again. Throughout the day conversations have been mostly in Japanese. Many times I have had to resort to pretending to understand and then guessing the intended heaving after the fact. But it does not matter, as everything had been fun from start to finish.

Friendly faces, part III

The final day in Tokyo. After some slight trouble, I meet another person I was originally supposed to meet. We stroll Harajuku and I end up buying a kind of coat. The chance to shower the night before was much appreciated, but does not do much good as the day is really hot.

In the evening I go to see a show by Wrestling New Classic at a small venue. As I talk to the owner of the promotion during the break, I am mistaken for a wrestler. An easy mistake to make, I guess. After the show I talk to two of my favourites out of those performing, and when I tell them I came all the way from Finland to see them, their faces are worth seeing. I also get a picture with both of them in hopes of making my namesake in Finland green with envy. The photo with Shuri Kondo looks pollute I am the wrestler and she the fan. An easy mistake to make, I guess. I take the night bus to Nagoya after finding out there are no more trains available. In the morning I am in desperate need of a shower and doing laundry. After a stroll through one part of town I have a meagre breakfast and find an Internet café. Sadly, this I've does not have shower service. I book a room to charge my phone and to take a nap anyway. Afterwards, the staff gladly directs me to a place that has a shower. Unfortunately it is a misleadingly named "relaxation club". After a long time of walking and not being able to take a bath, one would easily think "oh boy, that's exactly what I need", and enter with pure and purifying intentions. Naturally,a relaxation club is actually a place where the staff's faces are concealed, where one can go relieve sexual tension by renting adult material. And they do not even offer the possibility of merely taking a shower without renting a room. Not that it matters, as showering in such a place would be more than slightly disgusting. After a brief consideration I set out to search for a bath house. Only a short while later I enter one, slightly confused about how to exist in such a place. I manage to gather enough information from watching the other patrons, and then start using the facilities as best as I can. And it is absolutely relaxing. Stiffness and grime melt away. There is also a sauna and a cold bath to satisfy a Northern spirit. After purification I set out for the train station to meet a friend and his crony who visited my house earlier this year. Upon seeing him I immediately get the feeling that I am in good hands and that everything is taken care of. This one does not speak much English, and the crony also speaks mostly rudimentary English. It does not matter one bit. We have dinner and go to another bath house where I drink a sparkly drink called "Kamen cider". This is, of course, a pun related to Kamen riders. Funny as all hell. After another cleansing we make it to my friend's house. We have a sleeping space for three on the floor, which reminds me of olden days of sleepovers. In the end, Mr. Sandman quickly drops the People's elbow on me and I am easily knocked out.

A hero, a shinobi and a maid walk into a bar...

The ace in my sleeve is on the table and all bets are off. Mostly that means that I abuse the local train system for all that it's worth.

I made my way back to Tokyo only to idly stroll about the city once again. I did go to see if Roppongi has anything interesting. Sadly the case is that I have hardly any idea what I want to find, so I silently leave for Akasaka. I happen into a bar where an American man is singing while playing a guitar. After his song the owner returns order to the place by playing records. It is just me, the American and the owner in the room. As is usual, I order tea only. The American, visibly drunk, strikes a conversation and spills his guts about how he is fighting the good fight to save Japan from American ideals. A real hero, this one. After he is done giving me sage advice he leaves. I stay behind and the owner of the place displays his impressive collection of old music. I should be more careless about my camera trigger finger, I think.

I then start asking about the famed Ninja restaurant in Akasaka. The owner and a regular patron help me out and even kindly draw me a mayo to get there. On the way I see people standing in line for Hooters. The ninja place is thoroughly entertaining with ninja this and that. From a secret passage entrance shuriken-shaped appetisers to ninja parlor tricks between meals, it is an experience worth having. Everyone is dressed like the people of the shadows one sees in ninja films and the menu is a scroll. Mostly everything is accompanied by mysterious hand gestures and the staff speaks in an even more respectful manner than in other establishments. The one they call a ninja magician displays sleight of hand between courses. As one who is not easily impressed I must be a difficult customer for him. His last trick, though, forces a smile on my face. He proclaims he will disappear, makes more hand gestures and chants a short mantra, then picks up his trick box and calmly walks away.

In true ninja fashion they spy my nationality by bringing in a new waitress towards the end of the course. In idle chat she asks where I am from before my original waitress leads me out through another secret passage. As I turn my back to leave, the kunoichi tells me to wait a moment. When I face her again, she unfolds a scroll that has "see you again" written in Finnish. I take a bow and leave for Asakusa. It is late, and I go to sleep in a capsule hotel. It is surprisingly comfortable, and there is a much needed bathing facility. At some point I have fallen slightly ill, which reduces the quality of my sleep.

The next day I meet yet another friend. Sadly he is quite busy and we only spend a short time. We go to a natural history museum, which is nice for a change. Too bad I cannot read nearly any of the texts accompanying the exhibits. After lunch we say goodbye and I take a ride on the metro again.  I end up in Akihabara, which is kind of the neon light hell I expected Tokyo to be. I spend a few hours going around the interesting hobby stores, and suddenly I want to buy all the battle mechs. Unfortunately my money and luggage are limited, so I let it alone. I also visit the awesomely named Backdrop (or Bakkudoroppu, as the locals would say) store in hopes of finding some wrestling stuff to bring home. Sadly the stuff there is mostly connected to American wrestling, so I choose to not spend my money there. It its back to the streets then.

As the evening starts turning towards night, I decide to visit a maid café, of which there are plenty here, because why not. I would soon see why not. The place is too pink to exist and the music and the maids' voices are like my ears are being filled with cotton candy. The maids also walk up to patrons, making a kind of heart gesture with their hands and trying to get the patrons to follow in a cutesy rhyme. They are not amused by my not being amused by this. After the minimum one order of iced cocoa, I leave. I do not feel comfortable in such a place.

I go to spend the night at yet another a Internet café. So far my lodging has been in a shady motel, a love hotel, slightly suspicious overnight cafés, a capsule hotel and now this place. It is comparatively classy and very quiet. There is not enough space to sleep properly though. It does not matter, as I have the chance to recharge my phone, get in touch with the guy I am meeting the next day and take a shower in the morning. A new day will see me leave Akihabara behind after visiting the Gundam café, which is much less interesting than the name would suggest.

East side.

In Kuwana, there is no adventure. There is, however, a supremely kind host. I feel at ease especially after being allowed to leave my medicine and luggage there. Finally, after this I don't have to care where I spend nights! I also meet my host's friends for two potluck parties. I cook dumplings with my own secret recipe one evening. One morning we also go to a shrine. There is a horse inside a small building, and for some reason I find that amusing. On my last night in Mie prefecture, I go to Yokkaichi for dinner with my friend once more. Like my friend and host before her, my friend's mother also gives me the gift of tea. I have not even made it to a tea shop and I already have four packs of tea in my bag.

I go to Tokyo for a day. It is enough. First I take a walk near the main train station but find nothing particularly interesting, then take off for Harajuku. There, I wander around for a while, enjoy a small dinner and after strolling for a while longer go to spend the night in an Internet café. After hearing warnings of thieves and other unwanted types, I rig the sliding door to my small room with a coat have so that our cannot be fully opened. I sleep well enough and in the morning take off once again.

Judging by my two visits to Asia, once I enter the corner of the world in question, I become a bit of a racist. Other westerners stick out like a clown suit at a funeral. As if I, with my flowing golden hair, would not. Tokyo, for one, seemed to have way too many tourists for my taste. So, contrary to my original plan, I take the train to Sendai.

I stroll the streets until exhaustion again. I finally do make it to some tea shops but leave empty-handed for now. After a while I go to Izumi on a whim, but once again only end up measuring the streets instead of finding an onsen as I wanted. Defeated but not quite beaten, I head back to Sendai in the hopes that I can at least take a shower or bath. Tomorrow, I go back to Tokyo. The thought is not frightfully appealing, but at least I will meet another friend there.

Friendly faces, part II.

In the morning my host takes me to see Himeji castle. I am not very fond of sightseeing, but the castle's and castle grounds' atmosphere is quite relaxing. Walking the castle's hallways, I woe my poor photographing skills, lack of a better camera and a worthy opponent. The hallways and gardens seem like fine grounds for a duel or, failing that, at least for some photographic evidence.

I meet a friend whose last name translates to "Demon grave". It is by my rough estimates the coolest name ever. We talk almost strictly in Japanese, even though I feel like I hardly understand even half of what is being said. By my friend or by myself.

Another day of having a good time and I return to my host in Himeji. I kind of get a little lost at the final stretch, but that just counts for light evening exercise. In the morning I take off for Osaka station once again. It's an early awakening but if I am not mistaken, trains are made for sleeping in them. I wait for my friend at the station for a while and she arrives with cavalry. In a few minutes I am being driven around in a small van towards Ise shrine, listening to fun music and conversing in mixed English, Japanese and a tiny bit of Finnish as well. I fumble through words and especially endings, but friend and cavalry remark my Japanese is very good and sounds like the Osaka dialect at times. What luck.

We visit a charming small town. After lazily walking around its market and checking out different stands and some tea we have Ise udon for lunch after which we find an ATM that gets me back in the game. Then we visit the village's shrine before heading back to the village. My friend wants a posing photo with me and I happily oblige. Afterwards my friends treat me to a gift of tea, we contact my host in Kuwana and go eat a fancy-ish dinner. They hide the check and pay in secret so I have no chance to participate in sharing the costs. Then we go to Kuwana where we say goodbye. I meet my host and her friends and family. We talk for quite a while before tucking in for the night.

Friendly faces.

As my last night at a hotel draws near, I ask my Internet enablers at Wired Café to assume a fighting pose for a keepsake photo. I also assure them that, much like the Terminator, I'll be back. Then I wave them goodbye, leave, come back to get my luggage which I nearly forgot, wave goodbye again and leave for good this time.

There is a small problem with carrying a three-month supply of insulin. Namely, as the savvy might already know, that it should be kept cold. This I have achieved with the help of hotel minibars and a cold bag. This time at the hotel I find out that the minibar does not take kindly to customers' own things. So after washing dirty clothes and a dirtied man in the bathtub, I fill it with cold water and what little ice I have and stick my medicine floating in it in a plastic bag. I stuff the cold bag in the minibar using some violence and hit the sheets hard.

Finally at the dusk of my first week on the road I meet a friend. About time, too. We spend the day doing nothing of importance and I have my first taste of takoyaki, which is immediately something I also want to learn to make at home. I have to give credit to those film characters who are cronies from different countries, who all speak different languages but yet everyone understands everything. Though there was a theoretical possibility of speaking mixed English, Finnish, Japanese and Swedish and being like The Expendables, only not quite, we stuck with boring old English. Maybe next time.

After a tiring day of having a good time, I take my damned luggage and zoom to Himeji, where my first host awaits. The guy is very nice and we talk until battle fatigue takes its toll.

Jump for joy?

So arriving to Japan was not exactly the triumph and joy it might have been. After sitting down at the Kansai international airport to think about my next move, I went to get a ticket to get to Osaka proper. No biggie. After a brief consideration, I decided to buy a four-day Kansai pass and save my all Japan rail pass gambit for later. Turns out one needs to present one's return ticket along with other documents to be eligible for the pass. As I do not possess one, I had to settle for just buying a one-way ticket and go nod off in the train.

Arriving to Osaka I struggled to find a wi-fi connection, which was a doomed attempt. After strolling through the main train station, I found a café which offered use of tablets, those devils' devices. It didn't take me long to find out I had been forgotten by one of my hosts, postponed by another, declined by yet another and ignored by the rest. So let the good times roll again. However, I made my way to Nishinomiya in hopes that one of the hosts would feel the evil pressure of bad karma and contact me. It seems that letting this one be stranded is not such a great source of bad karma.

After cursing this rotten luck, I went to a jolly noodle place for eats. The owner kept on apologising for his slowness and the low quality of the food. It was easy to see he did not mean it, but that was a-OK since the noodle stuff was actually quite good. I then asked the owner about a cheap hotel nearby and he promptly directed me to an expensive one. Not much later I had wandered off and found a considerably cheaper place. The clerk spoke not one word of English, but I struggled to get a room. The place was seedy, one of those places where they offer pay-on-demand adult material on TV. I felt like Fox Mulder for a moment. But taking a bath and brushing my teeth turned the day ever so slightly towards victory. Tomorrow would bring a new challenge.

Leaving Europe after the rain.

Behind lies a marginally exhausting train trip which leaves me earnestly happy that I shan't meet Finnish people in their natural habitat for the next three months. Ahead lies some 24 hours in airplanes and airports. It is five in the morning and there is absolutely no sign of travel stress. I reckon it might kick in after check-in, right before boarding the plane. Maybe later today I will realise I will be gone for three months.

Despite all doubts, check-in was painless and I will board the plane shortly. I will be going to Osaka through Frankfurt and Hong Kong. Good times ahead.

Waiting at airports is boring as always. There is not much room for adventure. Though one who travels with medicine supplies experiences some hindrances at nearly every turn, excitement it is not. Fortunately there is music to keep one's attention away from boredom. Approximately one hour more until I collect my stuff and lazy bones and head for the gate to Hong Kong.

Throw away the trash... 100% power.

During the past few weeks and especially the past few days, I have thrown away more trash, physical and mental, than ever before in my life. Now everything has been cleared up, taken care of, gotten rid of, set aside and laid to rest. Now all there is left to do is take what I need and go.

I have my passport, visa, other necessary papers, medicine, money, a deck of cards, two sets of clothes, a journal, more than enough music and my attitude. What I didn't pack, I can do without or buy. At this point it is useless to worry.

Tomorrow is the day that I leave my home and fortress. By the grace of whatever I go, returning just a little more than a hundred days later. I wonder if anything will change. Right now I feel the tension building up, and as I start my journey I am at 100% power and ready to go from one side of the world to the other.

Late tomorrow afternoon, I shall shake off my shackles and go away like never before.