I am Sam-urai!

So how do you follow climbing a country's highest mountain? By doing another one the weekend after. This time however, rather than scaling another three thousand plus metre behemouth, I decided that a more leisurely ramble at just over three hundred metres would be enough. This was my 'local' mountain, Gifu City's Mount Kinka, sporting a reconstructed castle at the summit which in it's original form, was of key strategic importance during the warring states period.

Despite being a much smaller undertaking than Mount Fuji, it wasn't exactly undemanding on the old body. This was largely due to the fact that I'd decided to walk out from the city centre to the top of the mountain. That's sounds like a long way, but really as Japan continues to become more and more cluttered with buildings and roads, it's quite easy to walk from cityscape into the 'countryside' in a matter of minutes； depending on the city of course. Anyway the real hardship came from the sweltering heat.

Nobody had warned me before my arrival that barring Okinawa, central Honshu is the hottest part of the country. Anyway leaving in the late afternoon, I figured that I would have avoided the worst of the sun. Of course, I was wrong, as usual, and I found myself hugging the walls of buildings trying desperately to remain in the shade until I reached the heavily forested area at the foot of the mountain range. My skin still hadn't fully recovered from the Fuji sun burn so I didn't want to make it any worse, I now know what vampires must feel like.

There are several trails up through the woods around Mount Kinka, this part was a lot of fun, there was something of an 'Indiana Jonesness' to this place but I wished that I had brought my running shoes instead of my flip flops. Although I was flip flopping and not running, by the time I reached the summit, I was absolutely soaked, rather disgustingly so, to the bone with my own sweat. Luckily the vending machine is never far away in Japan, and after a bottle of the now world famous 'Pocari Sweat', I had all the electrolytes I needed to enjoy the stunning views from the castle's panaromic balcony.

This place is on my shortlist as one of the world's best beer gardens



I decided as the last of the day's light was fading, to take the ropeway (cable car) to return to the bottom. I felt like Roger Moore in 'Moonraker' except for the fact that I wasn't having a desperate fight with a seven foot monster of a man with metal teeth. Taking the ropeway also rewarded me with the opportunty to pose as the famous shogun, Oda Nobunaga, although all the pictures which came out were somewhat dubious.

The Samurai who lost his puppy.

The slightly simple and mischievious samurai who probably has some learning difficulties.

And finally full samurai sporting a big pink third leg (I'm sorry, that obvious knob gag was a bit crude) .

As the knee injury I'd suffered prior to Fuji-san and Kinka-zan began to heal the following weekends have been largely about of making the most of my chance to train at the local Mixed Martial Arts gym. I must admit, it feels quite nice to be the big strong guy here. But in terms of technical skill I'm happy to say that I'm being taken apart. In Russia it was to a certain degree, the other way around. Don't let the appearnaces fool you this little guy has muscles on his muscles. And the reason I had pictures taken here and not a video, is that I can hide the fact that he is clearly kicking my arse, although I've just told everyone so it kind of negates the idea of doing that.

As you can probably tell from the pictures, between training and poorly prepared yomps up various mountains, I've probably sweat more here, than at any other time in my life. And given that I don't drink here really, coupled with the healthy Japanese diet, there can't be a toxin left in my body.

That's all for now. Until next time...

A Fumble Up Fuji-san

I could think of no better way to spend my Japanese 'Obon' summer holiday than attempting to scale the country's highest mountain. Despite carrying a knee injury that I'd picked up a couple of weeks ago, training Jiu-Jitsu, I was determined to make the climb. I'd read a lot of information both online and in guidebooks about how to get to Mount Fuji, but as always, none of it was quite as useful as simply asking people that work in the public transport industry. I was hoping to save money by avoiding the use of the Shinkansen (the famous bullet-train). However the timings for the trains that I was given by the staff in Nagoya were way out. So what would have taken only three hours, had I taken the Shinkansen, took nearly seven!

As typhoon number four of the year (I hadn't even realised there had been a one, two or three this year and I've been here for most of it), swung in from the southwest on Wednesday, it was crucial that I constantly checked the weather reports for the area. It seemed that I would have a small window on Thursday night into Friday morning where the rain would hold off long enough to make the climb under good conditions. As most people attempt the climb during the night in order to avoid the heat of the sun and to watch the sun rise from the summit, I thought I'd do the same. By the time I had finally arrived into Fuji station it was about seven o'clock which I thought would be ideal given that I'd planned to begin climbing at about nine.

However when I arrived I was informed politely by another member of JR staff that I had missed the last bus out to the mountain. To take a taxi would have cost me 10,000 yen, and so it seemed that all the effort in trying to save money by taking the cheaper trains was now undone. I resigned myself to the fact that I was better off finding a cheap hotel for the night and getting the first bus out in the morning. I just had to hope that the weather wouldn't deteriorate, at least until Friday afternoon.

To be honest, I think it turned out for the best, climbing that night would have been extremely difficult as I was already exhausted from the calamitous train journey. So after a brief look around Fuji city and something to eat, I settled into my room at the Fuji Station Hotel. Everything about the hotel was basic, except for the toilet which seemed to have more buttons on it than the average computer keyboard. It reminded me of the 'Alan Partridge' line: "I'd feel like Buck Rogers taking a dump on that... in the twenty-first century".

The morning of Friday the thirteenth: I was up and out first thing to take yet another train ride over to Fuji-nomiya station where the first bus was leaving from. It was on this train that I caught my fist glimpse of the mighty Mount Fuji. After the ninety minute bus ride through the coniferous forests at the foot of the mountain I had finally reached the fifth station, the starting point for most climbers, at 2400 metres above sea-level.

At the beginning...

Now for most people with an average fitness level, the ascent from the fifth station to the summit at 3776 metres should take around six hours. Of course those of you who know me well, will know that in my head, I was saying "but I am no average man!" And so I set off at a blistering pace, deciding that I would rest every hour for about five to ten minutes to take on water, jelly beans and just enjoy the scenery a little. I could see that my relative speed was impressing some of the other climbers and this only spurred me on to go even faster. I would pay for this later.

They start 'em young...

I reached the summit in just under three hours. I then decided to descend into the crater (Mount Fuji is still a volcano after all) to have lunch, which consisted of a packet of mixed nuts. It was here in the crater where the most bizarre and at the same time, wonderful event occurred. I met a young lad called Yuuki who had brought a football with him up the mountain and together we proceeded to have an impromptu kick around in the middle of a volcanic crater.

After the small success that the Japanese had at this year's World Cup they're obviously stepping up the intensity of training at grass roots, making kids climb Mount Fuji before practicing free-kicks on the rocky surface of the crater is hardcore. Anyway after leaving Yuuki alone to practice his free-kicks, I headed back around the perimeter of the crater to begin making my decsent.

Now as I've already mentioned I had climbed the mountain quite quickly and of course, I had seen some people inhailing from aerosol cans of 100% oxygen, but I had thought these to be of little use. I figured that I wouldn't feel the effects of altitude because of my level of fitness and that I would have to go up to at least 8000 metres. However this was a very poorly conceived notion as almost any doctor will tell you it's not about how high you go, but how fast you do it. See -www.traveldoctor.co.uk/altitude.htm.

My descent became an extremely miserable affair, I had a terrible headache, nausia and the temperature had dropped considerably. I was prepared for the cold, but it was still really hard to regulate my body temperature because I had sweat so much on the way up. I was slow and felt a little delirious coming down until between the 7th and 6th stations, I dropped to all fours and vomitted on the side of the mountain. So much for the jelly beans and mixed nuts.

After this however, I felt much better and was able to resume a good pace to get down off the mountain. It wasn't the end of my suffering though. I had decided that for the price it had cost to stay a night in Fuji city, it made more sense to head straight home and at take my inaugural Shinkansen ride. However I was still having difficulty regulating my body temperature and was finding that I was needing to drink a lot of water. Then I discovered that my skin was feeling particularly sensitive and realised that my lack of preparation in the sunscreen department was being brought into question. I'm currently writing this with lobster coloured arms from below the shoulder, legs from below the knee, neck and face.

At the end.

So in conclusion ladies and gentlemen, I do thoroughly recommend a climb up Mount Fuji, you could just be a little better prepared than I was, and please do take the altitude sickness seriously, it's not a nice feeling. However the views were stunning, the people fantastic and it's been without doubt the 'high'light (that was an awful pun, I know) of my time in Japan thus far.

Observations: Fish Knives and Rodent Sweat

That brings us pretty much up to date folks, so I thought I'd share some of the more bizarre, often amusing and at times slightly disturbing discoveries that have been made during my time in Japan. Where to begin... oh I know...

1) The phenomenon of 'Morning Coffee'. Most coffee shops here will have a set menu called a morning coffee set, which is basically what it says, but you'll usually also be served a small salad, a hard-boiled egg and a couple of slices of toast all included in the price. It's not the existence of this very reasonable and pleasant early pick-me-up that is strange. It's the fact that on more than one occasion and at more than one venue, I've been given a fish knife with which to butter my toast. It's not such a big deal, I assume the proprietors felt that it would be apprpriate for their customers to be using a more 'fancy' looking piece of cutlery. However my issue is this: I don't know if anyone else routinely uses a fish knife with which to butter their toast, but if they do, they'll know that the motor skills involved are a little different due to the curvature of the tool and therefore it requires a little practice to get comfortable with this method.

2) The word convenience plays a massive role in Japanese life. The local equivalent of the British off-license or North American 7/11s are known here as 'convenience' stores. And they are very convenient, they are usually open twenty-four hours and stock various groceries and you can even pay your gas and electrticity bills in them. Of course public transport here is world-famous, not only for being convenient but also very easy to use and efficient. However I've never been to any other country in which you can buy pornography in a toy shop! This as I'm sure you'll agree, is a rather disturbing example of convenience being taken a step too far. I can't speak for a anyone else, but personally I like to keep my porn and my 'Lego' very much separated.

3) Anyone who's been to Japan will know about the myriad vending machines and even the phenomenon of people bowing at them in gratitude for serving them a tasty hot or cold beverage. However I think we need to examine some of the products contained within. Firstly the wonderfully titled 'Pocari Sweat'. This is a sports drink made, presumably from the sweat of a Pocari. I'm not exactly sure what a Pocari is, but I think it's a small amphibious rodent that lives in the rainforests of Costa Rica and Belize. Nevetheless, it makes for a refreshing and not unpleasant tasting concoction.

Next the soft drink known as 'Calpis'. Now we all know about the difficulties the Japanese have when it comes to pronouncing certain English letters. For example the English l and r sounds are indistiguishable to the Japanese ear and therefore cause rather amusing problems with pronunciation and spelling. This was so wonderfully demonstrated in the film 'Lost in Translation' and I actually have a student who tells me that his hobby is playing the 'fruit'. I must admit an awful truth, that I've been far too childishly amused by this to work with him on his pronunciation.

However I believe 'Calpis' has been so named to get back at foreigners that giggle at the difficulties Japanese people have with English pronunciation. After all, who in their right mind, would consider half a pint of cow piss a reasonable way to quench one's thirst! As side note, I also have a major issue with Japanese drinks commercials on television. It doesn't matter whether it's a soft drink or an alcoholic beverage, the marketing-men (and women) at 'Calpis', 'Suntory', 'Kirin' and 'Pocari Sweatshop' all believe in the power of hearing the ingestion process in full, and so no drinks advertisement comes without what can only be described as a disgusting, generic 'gulping' sound-effect, as the hero of the ad takes a swig of their product.

4) This little cafe near where I live, goes in my personal collection of pictures of cafes, restaurants, road-signs, shops and other things that have been rather unfortunately titled.

In this particular place you can get much more than just a fish knife and a boiled egg with your coffee. I'm sure you'll all agree, it's quite convenient really.

I'm a Seoul Man!

In May I made a short trip to the Republic of South Korea in order to confirm my legal work status in Japan. Despite the fact that it rained solidly thoughout my time in the capital, I really liked Seoul. It's a chaotic hodge-podge city where tradition and modernity have been brought together so quickly, resulting in ancient temples and palaces sitting right in amongst the sky-scrapers.

　

The subway system is fairly confusing to start with, but you soon get used to it, in fact it has very similar atmosphere to the London Tube. However what is very different from London is the friendliness of the people. The cops all look about twelve but are incredibly helpful whether they speak English or not. I've never been to another city where a businessman will take time out to show a random foreigner which train to take and personally walk you to the platform. And where someone will jump on the wrong train just to give you a street map that fell out of your pocket on the platform.　

I also met a lovely young lad from Singapore, who was remarkably well versed in British comedy. Despite having soaking wet feet for practically the entire time, I had a blast in Seoul, there's always someone around with just what you want or need. It's definitely a place I'd like to return to one day and explore further.

Rising Sun

March 16th: The last valid day of my Russian visa and as I had been forwarned, I was briefly checked for my registration details but generally the atmosphere in the tiny departure area of Vladivostok airport's international terminal was very friendly. A little too friendly really, as it wasn't long before I picked up a new travelling companion. I had been informed by Vladimir that most Russians flying out of the country from Vladivostok are sailors on their way to rendezvous with a their international crews in places like Singapore, Yokohama or Shanghai. My new friend Misha, was one of these individuals.

After the customs officials had cleared my departure and I had relieved my slightly nervous bowels, I was treated by, or more accurately forced by Misha to drink several beers with him before boarding the plane. He was obsessed with asking me one question: "Sam, who are you!" He incessantly demanded that I answer this question never content enough to believe me when I told him I was just a lowly teacher on my way to work in Japan. Anyway he was quite entertaining for a while and I must admit I was a little tipsy by the time we boarded.

By late afternoon, I was in Seoul's international airport and had somehow managed to shake off the attentions of the Russian 'Popeye'. I would be meeting my new boss for the first time that evening and didn't really think it was such a good idea to turn up completely wasted.

It wasn't long before I had my first taste of Japanese life and culture. Whilst waitning at the gate in Seoul the sumo was being broadcast on television screens and I was clearly the only foreigner or at least the only caucasian, getting on the plane bound for Nagoya. Feeling rather conspicuous, my nerves began to reach a climax. I hadn't had the time to go through all the official channels before leaving the UK, so I had no valid work permit and was about to arrive in Japan as a 'tourist' with a lot of 'stuff'. I had been warned that the Japanese customs officials would probably stop me and search my bag for any indication that I intended to find work once I was in the country. Indeed they did, but they seemed more interested by the fact that I had travelled across Russia to get there, but I was asked why I needed so many pairs of shoes.
Fortunately I wasn't deported and instead granted entry.

It was all smooth sailing, from this point onwards, I arrived, met my new employers and was taken to my new flat. In the morning sun, I went for my first explorations around Kakamigahara city. The very fact that I had a fantastic view of Inuyama castle, one of Japan's oldest, from the steps exiting my apartment had me feeling giddy with excitment to finally be in my personal 'Mecca'.

I was fortunate enough to arrive in perfect time for the cherry blossom season and the Inuyama festival which was quite something. However it seems I of the age now where the novelties of being in a new and fascinating place for the first time don't last as long as they once did. The realities of starting a new life here in such a rushed fashion, soon set in. I was poor, unable to speak to anyone outside the country and suddenly felt very isolated. This situation wouldn't be somewhat resolved until I was more legitimate. And to become more legitimate I would have to go to Korea!

Vlad in Vlad

The journey from Irkutsk to Vladivostok was particularly memorable for it's length, the two Babushkas on the bunks below me and a troupe of adolescent circus performers who continued their training, by any means necessary, thoughout the entire three days and nights. Some of the gymnasts were actually pretty good, but as a bunch of them were doing somersaults and flips at a short station stop somewhere in Siberia, I couldn't help wanting to see one of them cock-up and go head first into the snow.

It was more amusing to watch them practising on the train itself. The carriage attendants kept, getting really pissy, as is often their want to do, because the trainers had the kids doing hand-stands in the tiny aisle between the compartments. I spent the rest of the trip as on other parts of the journey, mastering the Russian card game of "Doorag", which means fool. As you can well imagine, I was the fool on a number of occasions. But "Who's the more foolish, the fool or the fool that follows him." - Obi-Wan Kenobi (The wisdom of 'Star Wars' as my friend Chris will agree, is all you really need to get through life unscathed).


Anyway with one lovely old arithritic babushka supplying me with extra pot noodles and smash, in return for my help in the hot-water collection and more dextrous duties, and my general train survival routine down by this point (it's a bit like camping really) I was feeling like a seasoned trans-siberianer. Unfortunately opposite the nice grandmother was an absolutely awful miserable old bat, who put a bit of a downer on the mood in the compartment.

Three days and nights on the cramped train did feel like a bit of an endurance test. I also couldn't remember how I had organised meeting my contact in Vladivostok. With my phone out of battery, the last few hours became a slightly nervous affair. However I was so relieved to find Vladimir a lovely bloke who had agreed to host me for three days, waiting on the platform for me.

Vlad is a top man; lawyer, lecturer, musician, and all round talented indivdual, who if he wasn't so successful, could easily make a living as a tour guide in Vladivostok. I stayed with him for three days and he kindly showed me the must-sees of Vladivostok. It was also here, of course, where I had my first views of the Eastern side of the Pacific Ocean. I had hoped to take the ferry from here across to Toyama in Japan. However sadly, my timing just didn't quite fit and this was no longer a possible option. Given that I had no time wait around hoping to get on another boat with visa rapidly running out I considered swimming the Sea of Japan. But in the end settled on good old Korean Air to get me out of Russia, which fortunately inspite of a severe blizzard the day before departure, they did successfully.