Tokyo and Hakone, Japan - Kimonos, a Snowstorm, and a Bad Knee

This is the first of two part report on our visit to Japan. To see part two, where we visit Kyoto and Hiroshima, please go here.

TOKYO

Our first morning is this world class city started out in rainy and dreary conditions with temperatures struggling to stay above 40 degrees. Clearly, it was a get under the covers and stay indoors kind of day.

It wasn’t after more than a few hours, just as we were getting warmed up and accustomed to the lay of the land and the highly efficient and easy to use subway system, did MK twist her knee in a very awkward way while ascending a series of slippery steps that led from the underground. The pain was sharp and very real. However, she was not going to be deterred from our planned day of sight-seeing as she smiled through grimaced teeth and bravely soldiered on.

The Thunder Gate at the southern end of the Senso-Ji complex, is second only to Mt. Fuji as one of Japan’s iconic views. It stands guard before one enters this Buddhist Temple, one of the most famous of its kind in all of Japan.

Thunder Gate has been destroyed and rebuilt several times. The most recent time was in the early 1960s after it was burned to the ground (as was much of Tokyo) during the American bombing campaign of WW II. The man who was to become the founder of Panasonic financed its reconstruction. He had good reason to feel a deep affinity for the Senso-Ji area. It seems that soon after his first visit, his bad knees were healed. For the first time in many years, they were without the pain.

Within the temple grounds, local residents circled a smokey incense burner and wafted smoke from the fire over their various body parts in the belief that doing so will cleanse their souls and keep their bodies healthy. We saw several people wave the smoke over their heads, hearts, backs and other areas of their bodies where apparently they are currently having issues. MK waved some smoke over her bad knee, hoping it would heal enough for her to enjoy the rest of our trip without any major pain or discomfort.

We learned that the Japanese are not beholden to any one particular religion and will celebrate religious holidays without exclusion to their particular beliefs. Christmas is highly celebrated, just as it is in western countries. Interestingly, having a meal from Kentucky Fried Chicken on Christmas Day is a big thing here.

As we walked away from the incense burner, a man stopped us mid-stride asking where we were from. After we told him, he began to recite a list of things Chicago is known for. “Ah, Chicago,” he began. “Let’s see…Al Capone, Sears Tower, Windy City, Lake Michigan, Barack Obama….oh, and Abraham Lincoln!” We congratulated him on his knowledge after he thanked us for giving him a chance to practice his English.

We only walked a few more steps to get on our way when we were again stopped, this time by a group of a half dozen or so school children all neatly dressed in their pressed, gray uniforms. They too asked if they could practice their English. We obliged by responding to their questions about how we liked Japan and what were our first impressions of their country. As if that wasn’t special enough, they then really tugged at our heart strings when they handed me a small origami as a gift and token of their appreciation for us giving them our time.

At Akihabara, we marveled in the numerous shops selling all forms of high-tech gadgetry. A dominant theme of the area is the preponderance of anime and manga figures plastered on much of their signs and windows.

With our bellies hungry, we arrived early the next day at the Tsukiji Fish Outer Market where we sampled some of the tasty treats on offer by the dozens of merchants. The grilled squid-on-a-stick was one of our favorites.

The main “inner” fish market had recently been moved several kilometers away and off of our route which deterred us from being able to visit. It is there, at the ‘inner” market that the recent catch is auctioned off. Famously, some of the bluefin tuna goes for millions of dollars for one fish.

At nearby Ginza, high-end shops and department stores were found on every corner. Expensive kimonos were among some of the unique offerings.

At Shibuya, we partook in the scramble to cross the world’s busiest intersection. True to its
name, it was a very busy place today and it wasn’t even the tourist season nor the rush hour. We could only imagine what this scene would look like during the high season

We had a great view of this spectacle from our perch high above the action as seen through a coffee shop window. Somehow it all works – the light turns green and chaos ensues. The light turns red, everyone stops, and the intersection clears allowing patient drivers and their vehicles to pass through.

That reminds me to share this observation. The Japanese are very law abiding and strictly follow all rules. For example, at intersections, even at the normal ones let alone the busy one at Shibuya, they will obediently wait for the walk signal to turn green before crossing. They do so even if there are no cars to be seen as far as the naked eye will allow. They will wait and only cross when the signal tells them to do so.

On more than one occasion, we found ourselves crossing an otherwise empty intersection on a red signal, as we are accustomed to doing so back home. It was only when we reached the other side of the street and looked back, do we realize the errors of our ways. In one instance, all of our fellow pedestrians were back at the far curb we had just left, scowling at us from across the street while they patiently waited for the signal to proceed.

MK's knee wasn’t doing well, still bothersome from the previous day’s injury. She wanted to head back to the hotel to tend to it before it got any worse. She wanted to be well since we had several more days of sightseeing ahead of us. At her insistence, I carried on with the day’s plans, but now did so solo.

Heading north in the now late afternoon, I made my way to the magnificent grounds of the Shinto shrine of Meiji Jingu. I was one of the last ones through the gates since it was closing in ten minutes. This meant there were few other visitors around allowing me to have the place pretty much to myself.

As I did at other shrines, I bowed once before walking underneath the gate that towered overhead – a sign of respect to the gods within. I later quietly and reverently placed some coins in the offertory box and, as I learned earlier, bowed twice, clapped twice, and then bowed once more. One could not find elsewhere such a serene and special environment as the one I had as dusk turned to dark.

The darkness descended as I arrived at Shinjuku. Although, at times, it was hard to tell. The building lights and signs made the evening seem as if it was still daylight.

I turned into the Golden Gai neighborhood. This was a relic of old Japan, the Japan that time forgot. 

Sprinkled throughout were dozens of small restaurants and numerous stand up bars, barely six, maybe seven foot-wide, and only fifteen to twenty feet deep. It was barely enough room for a bar and a handful of bar stools. I enjoyed myself in this unique setting while drinking beers with only four other patrons - three Australians and a Japanese man. There was no room for anyone else.

MK was still hurting when I returned to the hotel for the evening. After getting her some more ice, I took the remaining time to figure out how to operate our high-tech toilet, something we would see in all of our hotel rooms throughout our stay in Japan. Indeed, they are somewhat intimidating when you first see them and try and use them. But once you do, and discover the joys of a – how to say this delicately – a warm water “cleanse”, it’s a wonder I ever left the hotel room.

HAKONE

Sometimes, luck just isn’t on your side. We arrived in Hakone, a mountainous region southwest of the Tokyo area, with full anticipation of seeing Mt. Fuji in all its glory. But on the day we were to take in this splendor, a storm hit dumping 5 inches of wet, white and fluffy snow. All views were obscured. The mountain was hidden. It all made for an experience less than ideal.   

 

Our ryokan when we arrived. 

Our ryokan the next morning when we were to go sightseeing.

There was nothing we could do about the weather. But we could do something about our mood. So, we made the best of the situation and braved the wet and chilly conditions while using the region’s bus, boat, and cable car systems.

While we had no views to speak of, save for the volcanic fumaroles and steam vents in the Owakudani areas (the sulphur smell was overwhelming at times), we enjoyed the fairy tale-like atmosphere the falling snow added to this interesting mountainous area of rural Japan.

Back at our ryokan (a rural Japanese inn), we followed tradition by donning our yakutas before making our way to the steaming hot onsen bath fed by the area’s underground thermal and mineral-rich waters.

Some of these baths are used simultaneously with others, and always with those of the same gender. And by rule, you must use them while naked. Fortunately for us (and more likely for other potential bathers), the one here in our ryokan could be reserved for use privately. And we did so on several occasions, each time tackling the chills that were brought on by the day’s snow and cold.

All warm and tucked in for the evening.

We headed up to our simple, tatami floored room to turn in for the evening, knowing we would have a deep and restful sleep ahead of us. But first, I decided I needed to check out those wonderful toilets once again.


For part two of our trip report to Japan - Kyoto and Hiroshima, please go here.