It was our first time abroad together. As the plane took off, P gave me his hand to squeeze (a mechanism learned from our brief jaunt to Sydney a year prior). We ordered a Bloody Mary each and smiled at each other – finally, finally our trip had arrived. Months of sacrificing and scrimping had culminated in this moment, and I was going to enjoy the shit out of my watery excuse for a cocktail.
At Singapore’s Changi Airport , we made a beeline for the Cactus Bar. P took me on a ‘guided tour’, making up stories about the different species of cacti circling the al fresco area. Laughing, we threw back beers and tried to ignore the stifling heat. After eight hours, two dinners and one very uncomfortable nap on the airport floor, we boarded our second and final flight. In a small victory, I slept through take-off.
On arrival, Tokyo was humid as hell. We sweated through our jeans as we took train after train, dragging our luggage behind us. I bartered with the hotel staff to let us into our room early and, 4000 yen poorer, we flopped onto the bed. Only a short stroll from our hotel was Golden Gai, a hub of bars and eateries like something out of ‘Blade Runner’. We’d been excited to check it out since booking flights, so we rallied and soon made our way there. It was only mid-afternoon, but we found one open bar – the aptly named ‘Hip’. The entrance to Hip was by way of a steep staircase, which we ascended first by foot, then on all fours. We crawled through the front door to find five stools and a quiet, floppy-haired man polishing glasses. The next few hours dawdled by in a haze of smoke, umeshu (plum wine) and laughter. It was my second time in Japan but P’s first, and seeing his delight at the strange and beautiful quirks of a country I love flooded my heart with joy. Afterwards, we shared our first katsudon experience and passed out cold in front of one of the Japanese game shows that would become our staple background noise.
As is usually the case when you stay in one place long enough, we found a few favourite haunts over our eight days in Shinjuku. There was the bakery a couple of doors down from the hotel, where the cashier was unfriendly but the iced coffee and egg bread was cheap and plentiful. There was the ‘Daily Yamazaki’ convenience store, which I mistakenly (and perhaps drunkenly) called the ‘Daily Yakuza’ – only once, but it stuck. Golden Gai was on the receiving end of many visits, of course. We loved metal bar ‘Deathmatch in Hell’, where all the drinks were priced at a very reasonable 666 yen. The three-storied bar ‘Albatross’ was another standout – I drank a liquefied cactus, and the bartender told me I was kawaii. There were other places we never got the chance to see, either due to circumstance or cover charge (“1000 yen just to sit there? Fuck that!”), but ever optimistic, we added them to a steadily-growing list for ‘next time’.
Thankfully, the list for next time was not as prolific as the list we were checking off THIS time. Our second night was spent in Kichijoji with a friend of mine who lived in Tokyo. We drank pints of beer at a small alleyway pub (one that had been kicking around since World War II, apparently) and ate ourselves stupid at a rock’n’roll themed izakaya. He then took us to a picturesque park, its tranquility disrupted by a lone man singing his heart out on the bridge. This was something many Japanese musicians did, he explained – they practiced in parks late at night, safe in the knowledge that no-one would interrupt them.
There was the ‘fancy izakaya’, just a stones’ throw from our hotel. A succession of strange and delicious foods were brought out to us, and we tried raw fish for the first time (feeling cultured, but probably looking hopelessly inept).
Then there was the day we rode a swan-shaped boat at Ueno Park, taking it in turns to peddle furiously and making jokes about the inferior ‘non-swan’ boats surrounding us.
We ate vegan ramen (sub-par), conveyor belt sushi (incredible) and green tea ice-cream at a ‘maid café’ in Akihabara (terrifying). The ‘8bitcafe’ in greater Shinjuku served up cocktails with names like ‘Princess Peach’ and ‘Metroid’, and even a stomach-turning incident with vending machine udon couldn’t ruin the memory of that night.
A frustrating day in which everything went wrong was followed by a near-perfect night in bed, eating convenience store sandwiches, drinking whiskey and just being together. I think it’s important to have down time when you’re travelling – even in Japan 😉
Our last full day in Tokyo before departing for Kyoto was spent at a Sumo Wrestling tournament. It was a happy accident that we were there while it was on – I gifted P with tickets for his birthday, but it ended up being just as much of a present for me. The bouts were lightning fast and fascinating. There was an enormous Western Sumo Wrestler who had bigger breasts than any woman I can think of, and to our disgust, he used dirty tactics. We placed bets on each competitor, gravitating towards whoever looked bigger or more powerful. To my chagrin, P won by a landslide.
We were unusually organised for our trip to Kyoto, checking out early and arriving at Tokyo Station before noon. Armed with Levain crackers and DARS chocolates – the only ingredients required for an unholy abomination of a sandwich – I was looking forward to introducing P to the Shinkansen, Japan’s famed network of bullet trains. As the train gathered speed, it took my stomach a while to peel itself off the back of the cabin – but P said it was no better than the Eurail. Sniff. Fast forward three hours and we were making our way through a dubious looking neighbourhood to our first ever Airb’n’b. The affable and ever-enthusiastic Masanori had a charming little flat, replete with free postcards and seaweed crackers for his guests. We settled in for the night, ready for a big day of exploring to follow.
To cut to the chase – I fell on my ass at the first temple we visited. Moments earlier, I’d been observing the interior of Higashi Honganji in hushed awe; moments later, I was sliding bottom first down a ramp as gasps of horror echoed around me. P ran to my rescue and we laughed about it together, even as I wondered if my right hand was broken (it wasn’t). Thankfully, when a day begins like that, it’s only up from there – and we had a lovely time in the Gion district, checking out two different shrines, and eating matcha ice-cream. Thanks to a custom known as ‘Respect for the Aged Day’, every bar we tried to go to was closed, but the brilliance of a pure purple sky as we returned home more than made up for any disappointment.
Upon reflection, our time in Kyoto can be summarised by a small collection of words; beautiful landscapes. Serenity. Balcony (…we spent a LOT of time on Masanori’s balcony). With its mountainous surrounds and quaint vibes, Kyoto is truly unique. P was forthright about preferring the big city buzz of Tokyo, but I enjoyed the reprieve – even if my favourite night there was spent drinking at the Kyoto Tower Rooftop Bar and then crying at the ‘Aqua Fantasy’ water show afterwards. (Well, I cried anyway.) I have pictures on my phone from that night that still require explanation.
In between leaving Kyoto and going to Osaka, we spent a day in Nara. Our primary motivation was that it was the subject of a song by one of our favourite bands, alt-J – but nothing could have prepared me for the afternoon we spent there. P still laughs at the fact that I devoted a sizable chunk of time trying to take a picture of a deer behind a fence, when there was a big group of them right behind me. The deer of Nara wander around the city like people. We fed them, followed them and tried not to scare the fawns away. A true animal lover, P was in his element – “you’re a deer whisperer” I teased him, only half joking. I was easily intimidated by the stags with their antlers, but he would have happily taken one home if he could. We also visited Todaiji Temple, a monstrous monument to humanity’s occasional brilliance – built in 728 AD, it’s by far the largest and most impressive temple I’ve ever seen.
All too quickly, the last leg of our trip was upon us. Osaka was my favourite city last time I went to Japan, and in spite of a less-than-stellar first day there, it remains to be so. I’d had some unfortunate news from back home and was noticeably upset when P and I stumbled into a dingy cafe called ‘Almo’. We drowned my sorrows in stale beer and when the middle-aged waitress entreated us to join her in karaoke, we politely declined. She shrugged and proceeded to belt out a jaw-dropping rendition of ‘Stand By Me’. The next time she came around with the mic, ‘no’ was not an option and we both had a go. I mangled ‘We Are The World’, but left the cafe a much happier girl than I had been upon arrival. The people of Osaka are just so friendly – they will go out of their way to help you, to befriend you, and to speak English as best they can.
The next four days in Osaka were full of highlights. P fell in love with Dotonbori, a lively, super cool district, and we spent the majority of our time there. From meeting the cutest puppy in existence – Chii – at a Dog Café, to eating our combined weight in yakisoba and okonomiyaki, excellent moments abounded. We (sheepishly) frequented an Irish bar, but also spent time at an uber cool whiskey joint – complete with an elderly war veteran behind the counter serving drinks. We stumbled upon a bizarre wrestling match near Shinsekai, Osaka’s ‘crime capital’, and looked on in bemusement as locals ate raw chicken at a somewhat tacky izakaya. The greatest night by far was our last night there – a day in Amerikamura was followed by a spontaneous decision to stay out, and we bar-hopped for hours before inevitably landing at ‘Karaoke Room’, one of Japan’s premier karaoke chains. An hour seemed long enough when booking, but turned out to be painfully short as we rushed to belt out Journey, Seal and Coolio. P ripped his pants in a particularly spectacular move, and received an angry-sounding call on the room phone as a result of utilising the furniture too much. We rolled out of there still singing and with half a bottle of stolen wine in my bag. Needless to say, the ‘Karaoke Room’ is top of our list for next time – but with at least a couple more hours added on.
The day following this night-of-nights was another travel day – we were making our way back to Tokyo for two more nights. P was definitely worse for wear, as evidenced by a photo of him sunglassed and semi-comatose in McDonalds. We slept for most of the Shinkansen ride back and then muddled our way to Park Hyatt, arguing furiously about lunch. As many would know, Park Hyatt is the hotel featured in ‘Lost in Translation’. We’d agreed months before to splash out and have a ‘money is no object’ kind of night there, something we were definitely ready for after over a week of cute but poky Airb’n’bs. From the moment we set foot in the hotel, our petty hanger-fulled argument was forgotten. As the host showed us around our room, we tried to keep our cool – but the second she left we screamed and jumped all over the room and each other. We’d never known such luxury, and I can only hope that I will one day know it again. The storage space in the corner of the room was bigger than our whole place back home. The bathroom was exquisite; the bed fluffy and sprawling. I gazed out at Tokyo from the giant windows and sipped cheap Australian red wine (but for the sake of the story, let’s pretend it was French and expensive). We took our time getting ready, listening to music and drinking before ordering a room service dinner. The room attendant set up a table for us by the window and we clinked glasses silently, awed by the elevated position we suddenly found ourselves in. We eventually made our way to the famous Manhattan Bar, where we spent close to 9000 yen on four drinks and watched the house band – a jazz quartet from New York, naturally. In time we made it back to our room where *scene missing* ordered more room service and *scene missing*. I accidentally fell asleep before midnight – too much partying the night before – but it meant we could enjoy the room until 12pm the next day without feeling rushed.
Following such a sumptuous and incredible night, you would think a night spent at an airport hotel would be lacklustre in comparison. In a way, it was – but drinking wine, sharing chocolate and watching monster movies is still a pretty good way to farewell a place. Throughout the trip I’d commented on the lack of stars due to light pollution, and it was on this – our last night in Japan – that I saw my first star. It was a bittersweet moment.
In fact, I find reflecting on our time there as a whole is bittersweet. For three weeks we immersed ourselves in a wonderful and wholly different culture, spending (nearly) every moment together. P and I have been in a relationship for two years and live together as well, but it was this trip that really cemented my love for him. He was up for anything, (usually) patient to a fault and always let me choose where to eat. He serenaded me with little songs and regularly hid my phone just to make me smile and/or scream. But by far the most heart-warming thing for me was witnessing his love grow for a country that I love so deeply too. I’m saddened that our beautiful, incredible, amazing time there is over. Our next adventure can’t come soon enough.
Eleanor Gulland Writes. 