Dunedin - In search of chowder

Today was my full day living in New Zealand. It's a lot further away from Australia and farther below Tasmania than I imagined. It was was my first day wearing a puffer jacket. It was my first day lunching on chowder.

The lucky chowder was the one made by Plato down on Dunedin's wharf. Its residents included local Little-neck clams, swollen Green-Lipped mussels, fish, and a few other crustaceans. The local Riesling made it perfect.

Other putative observations of Dunedin. A strong representation of red-heads. Excellent cheese and coffee. Incredible wines in the supermarket.  Clear air with a slight whiff of open fires late in the day. People dressed in defiance of the cold. Excellent clouds. Sudden late afternoon darkness. Peaceful habour.

Tomorrow's forecast: A balmy 13C

...what we have now will never be that way again!

  Nick said "What we once thought we had we didn't, and what we have now will never be that way again".
 AM

In recent times, every morning when I wake to the sun beaming directly into my eyes, I get the feeling that I'm not making the most of my last days in Japan. The psychological warfare being prosecuted on me (and everyone else) by the electioneering cars with loudspeakers isn't exactly encouraging me to leave the house either. I've most spent my days trying to erase every last skerrick of my life in Japan from my flat. My last memories of Japan may, in the future, big triggered by the fumes of toxic cleaning products. My main feeling is of a universe collapsing (see right). My work at ECC disappeared in a puff of nothing and one by one I visit places for the last time. Yesterday it was Life supermarket, tonight it will be a shitty yakitori joint, tomorrow it will be Umeda, on Wednesday it will be Japan. Gone.


PM

Many of my final afternoons and nights have been spent saying or thinking goodbye to people, many of whom I know I will never see again. These people are friends, students, teachers, workmates acquaintances, shop keepers, restaurant workers, familiar faces on the train and people whom I've only just met. I'm very sad about this.  I feel like I'm also saying goodbye to trains that run on time, amazing customer service incredibly safe streets, expert cooks in every eatery, public restraint, riding bikes without a helmet, same-day delivery from Amazon, edible sushi, huge amounts of free time, excellent beers, outstanding supermarkets and a very cushy job. Australia can learn a lot from Japan. But I'm also saying goodbye to earthquakes, being illiterate, incredibly conservative people, naked racism, typhoons, salary-men vomiting into rubbish bins, nuclear power, backward treatment of women, terrible Italian food, ridiculous unpaid overtime, and outrageously-priced pizzas. No loss. I can only hope that Melbourne puts on an amazing show for me. The most important thing though, is that Rosie is there and I'm here - so I'm ready to go!

The Period of Last Times

AM

At nearly 9:00am after barely sleeping, I opened the sliding window to a cool-ish day. After the brutal summer, which locals seem to think was the hottest in memory, Autumn may just be arriving. I began to get a nagging feeling last week that I was now entering a time in which I'll be experiencing things in Japan for the last time - at least in this phase of my life. It was a nice thought, though to think that I will never again have to drip through another summer in Osaka. I may never again eat a bowl of cold soemen noodles, a drink another yuzu-laced shochu. These thoughts also have a darker tone when projected into next year. I actually imagined last week the last time the sushi conveyor delivers up a treat,  the end to the delights of kastuo tataki from the supermarket and the end of badly slicing my own sashimi. Awful thoughts.

PM

At about 2:45pm, I walked out the end of a lengthy arcade into an amazing Namba sunshower. Through the glittering (and massive) raindrops, I noticed that it was only 29 degrees. It finally felt like summer was being dismantled in readiness for the Japanese weather switch to be flicked to the Autumn setting. I took a quick photo and skulked into a popular coffee chain for a yuzu iced tea - possibly my last!

Run? Hide under a flimsy table? Run.

AM

At 6:24am I was terrified awake by an earthquake that shook our apartment building. The first indication was a wobble. The second was a significant horizontal shaking of our flat. The tremblor last a few seconds which gave all of the furniture and doors time to rattle, and me time to jump out of bed and reach the locked front door. By the time I had decided that we should make a run for it, the quake was over. The most unsettling thing was having to make a decision about what to do while the floor was shaking. Run? Hide under a flimsy table? Run. Immediately after the quake, I kept thinking aloud that an earthquake could happen at any time - and not when it is convenient for me, and perhaps, not when I was awake. It turns out that the earthquake was centred in Nara, but was felt all over the Kansai region. I just hope when the 'big one' strikes, I'm not in the shower or somewhere worse.

Gimme an L! Gimme a V!

AM

Least: At about 9:35am, I sat sipping my too strong coffee and looked through the plants on the balcony onto the world of Ujita Auto Salon. The daily motions of the mechanics have become so familiar that I seem to no longer hear the deafening pneumatics, the monthly chanting of the company code, the amplified receptionist or the howling of the vacuum cleaner. Now that I can be pedantic over that little world, my attention shifted to the sign - in particular the one in katakana - ウジタ　アート　サロン - Ujita Ahh-to Saron. What really bothers me is the failure of those holding the levers of language matters to give the Japanese people an 'L' (and even a 'V') sound to give them a fighting chance at avoiding really bad translations - of which there are many (as can be seen in many a boring Janglish facebook album). A recent case that left me groaning was seeing the word 'DICTIONALY' stuck in letters across the window of the Daimaru in Shinsaibashi (above). It didn't need to happen.

Most: At nearly 10:45am, I had in my hands two summer fabric shirts for the painfully boring process of ironing. It struck me that despite at least a years difference between the ages of the Uniqlo  shirts, I found it impossible to tell which one was which. I've been told that Uniqlo began producing really cheap and really poor quality clothes but they've had some kind of transformation. They now produce really cheap and really indestructible shirts. Whatever exotic fabric is being used to make these business shirts seems to defy the ravages of edutainment and relentless ironing. It's lamentable that I'm recording my thoughts about fabric in the 'most' column but without a road rage incident out the front - it had to suffice.

PM

Least: At almost 3:30pm, I stood in the sun at the Himematsu tramstop and sweated into my shoes. It felt suspiciously like a four month string of similar incidents last year.As the tram arrived through the heat haze, one, then two old ladies cut in front of me to secure the seat they wanted. As I've probably groaned about earlier, the Hankai tram really brings out the worst in people.

Most: At 9:10pm, I was in the throes of trying to make a discussion about 'giving hospitality' interesting, when someone said a very interesting thing. Hidden among the endless secret codes operating without my knowledge in Japan is an unbelievably odd way of letting guests know that they're not welcome. If you ever see a bottle of household cleaner turned upside-down - you must now take it as a sign that your gracious hosts want yout to leave. Just to recap - a bottle of household turned upside down. Wow!

On the Arrival of Summer

AM

Mr Hatoyama resigned today. Today I also seem to feel the horrible Osaka summer announcing its too-long visit. The heat is here but not too strong. The towers of cumulus clouds are screaming humidity but from a distance. These signs leave me bracing for the certainty of a day in the next few weeks when sweat will begin dripping down my legs, men will be fanning themselves, ashphalts will liquify and I will be dreaming of November. Already in the last month has the heat caused me problems. A recent trip to the local dry-cleaner to rescue some suit-pants, light encrusted with sweat about the knees, turned into a massive failure of my still appalling Japanese listening and speaking skills. Was the lady doubtful of the outcome of the cleaning process or just embarrassed by the six-day turn-around time? I'll probably never know. Many officeworkers are released from the yoke of their neckties in June or July. The 'Cool Biz' concept forgives sensible summer attire in return for a twenty-eight degree airconditioning setting as a way to save energy and money. It's good idea that still hasn't had any impact on my company's idea of the suit and tie as the appropriate attire for a professional educator even in the classrooms cooled to a chilly twenty seven degrees.

PM

The undeniable lowlight of the afternoon was carrying a fridge down four stories, then another up two stories using dangerously broken English. Despite the pain in my knees and lower back, the operation was successful. Incredibly, our fridge was replaced only two and a half hours after Rosie steamrolled our landlord with a complaint about a long-dripping fridge. A boring and common problem involving frozen condensation tubes gave us the splashy joy of puddles in and around our fridge. Boring.

Rage and the Secret Life of Point Cards

 AM

At 9:30am, I woke with a crushing headache. Rather than a hangover, which would indicate a great night beforehand, the headache mainly resulted from rage and a touch of dehydration. After reading my draft schedule for the next academic year, my shock was so great that it nearly caused vomiting. Despite a year of outstanding evaluations and a spotless attendance record, not one of the seven schools I nominated appeared on the sub-professional spreadsheet (right) .My week of personnel department rage began with two trips to Wakayama in one week, subsided on Wednesday, then was enflamed once again on Thursday night. I'm still pondering whether or not to compose a strongly worded letter. Then again, I didn't come here to work for my company - I came to get out of a rotten job and out of the cool soup which Melbourne isn't and enjoy myself (which I am!)

PM

During the PM hours I was asked no less than four times whether or not I had a point card. I also gained one point card and redeemed some goodness from another point card.

I've inadvertently become a regular at the Akagakiya Sushi restaurant in Namba. Every time I visit, which is very often, I get asked whether I would like to convert my pile of plates into points. Finally today (thanks to Rosie's Japanese skills) , I was able to become part of the sushi point card bretheren. I'm completely unsure as to the nature of the calculations, however today I accrued 17 points. As to exactly how the points will pay off I am also completely unsure, but I plan to pile on the numbers for something big - someday.

Just 30 minutes later, I experienced the joyous result of point accumulation. For months, small numbers of points have been added to my and Rosie's Yamada LABI card. Today, at about 4:30pm the pay off came. It was unexpected, for my previous experience with points has been almost nil, and in Australia, redemption for most people is an impossible dream. As the clerk fed our card into her machine, then scanned the barcode on our new powerboard an amazing thing happened. In my ignorance, I offered the young women the 1300 or so yen for the good but she simply pointed to the register that read 0Yen. The powerboard cost nothing but a few abstract numbers on a hi-tech silvery card. Again: what an amazing country.

Please Do It At Home

24 February 2010

AM

At about 9:58am, a man on my train carriage bound for Gakken-Nara-Tomigaoka fell asleep. His newspaper, although appearing to be a respectable broadsheet, was actually filled with full frontal nudity. The paper, slumped forward at about the same time as he did. No-one gawked, nor blinked. A normal situation (right:  Tokyo subway poster)






PM

As I stepped on to the platform at Tsuruhashi station at about 5:25pm, I was confronted by the mingling of two opposing smells. The first, which had assaulted me in the morning was the acrid stench of extinct barbecues and burnt fat - exactly the smell which lingers around a boozy camp fire. This particular smell, wasn't initially included in my short list of 'bad smells in Japan', however since returning from Malaysia (my olfactory organs refreshed) I have noted the putrid stench every wednesday morning on my way to work. It will now forever be in league with my memories of that place. The second, smell, was the incredibly precursor to the first. The amazing smell of tens or hundreds of Yakiniku restaurants, blurs the airs of Tsuruhashi station every night with a blueish haze. It is an amazing and probably delicious place - until the morning. (right: a map of Tsuruhashi that could possibly show the smell radius)

The 365th Day

February 3rd 2010

Exactly a quarter of my 365th day in Japan was mostly spent inside a huge shopping mall in Gakken-Nara-Tomigaoka. Eighty minutes of that was completely focused on helping a 50ish year old lady translate an Australian book, 1001 Inventions that Changed the World, into Japanese. The other interesting thing about the 3rd of February is that is it Bean Throwing Ceremony day, when many Japanese literally throw beans at their houses and walls to chase out any devilish spirits that may have made themselves at home during the preceding year. In fact, on my way home, numerous beans were visible on the streets near freshly exorcised houses. Some kind of blanshish nori roll also appears to be part of the ceremony. The only real lowlight of the day was predictibly on the Hankai Tram early in the morning, when some youngish dolt decided that his rideon the rails was the perfect time to thoroughly clean his pipe with a pipe-cleaner. The smell was revolting, but not quite at alarming as the tar that kept coming out of the rosewood bowl for the length of the trip. Simply awful.

My year in Japan has been interesting, amazing in patches, delicious, frustrating, hilarious, lazy, busy and rapid. I have taught the likes of  doctors, nurses, teachers, salarymen, executives, flight attendent trainees, the unemployed, the alcoholic, train conductors, bullet train hostesses, university students, highschool kids, tiny children, the flu ridden, a law professor, a seller of knives, several Shimano employees, the ugly, the beautiful, old ladies, ancient men, man-eaters, mountain climbers, marathon runners, tea ceremony teachers, tour guides, the insane, hotel workers, a belhop, midwives, chemical engineers, steel pipe makers, scientists, programmers, rock and rollers, the tired, the asleep, Koreans, magicians, scuba divers, a crazed Placido Domingo fan, Disney lovers, kindergarten teachers, a paper bag maker, the lonely, shop girls, salesmen, mothers, unhappy wives, grandfathers, gym managers, translators, law clerks, barmen, the interesting and the incredibly boring.

As a sartorial journey, my 365 days in Japan was pretty spectacular, with the occassional and the occasionally chronic lowlight. The clear winner for expanding my palatte was fish and related fishy catches from the sea. Depsite previously enjoying the occasional tray of sushi in Australia, I found the overseasoned rice a little sickening and the range of fish irritatingly small. In Japan though, the rice is addictive and the sheer variety incredible and impossible to list properly. I've mangaged to try most things including the raw and cooked - octopus, tuna of varying fattyness, salmon, sea urchin, yellowtail, bream, scallops, oysters, numerous roes, mackerel, vinegared mackeral, crab, surf clam, turban shell, raw beef, prawns, sardines and their allies, whale bacon (a moral lowpoint) and who knows what else. My sashimi highlight was a night of eating tuna in all its forms, right up to the crazily expensive tuna belly - needless to say it was also a financial lowlight. The other big surprise was my enjoyment of okonomiyaki and modanyaki both at home and in over-priced restaurants. Despite its bland ingredients, it somehow manages to be a delight, especially with a smothering on sauce and mayonnaise. In general, the food in Osaka has been spectacular and incredibly available. Even in the smallest of bars it is possible to get meals that would be impossible to replicate in Melbourne. One memorable night, I ordered the Autumn delight sanma and it was grilled before my eyes as a whole fish at a bar was big as a cupboard - outstanding. The lowlights of Japanese eating have been well-documented and they almost always involve attempts at Western food such as bread and pizza. One exception though was a simply awful udon curry which had been chilled to a teeth shattering temperature - I still shudder every time I stroll past that particular eatery.

After weeks of not writing this entry, I have finally accepted that my year in Japan boils down to food and people. Especially Rosie!

See you soon!

The Return

AM

After a bumpy overnight flight between Kuala Lumpur and Osaka, the last thing I needed was was slow train home - but that's what I got. Despite paying extra for a seat on the extravagant Rapi:t B, the train crept along to Tengachaya station, probably because of work on the tracks. The train ride home perfectly illustrated the contrast between relaxed Malaysia and up-tight Japan. After only ten days in Malaysia, I'd already become re-accquainted with, multiculturalism, relaxed and expressive people, rich flavours and even richer smells. (right) The sterile uniformity of Kansai Airport and its people made my return to Japan almost depressing. This is probably true about the end of any holiday, but like my last return, Japan seemed stranger than ever. Almost to a person, people were asleep in their seats, their heads at a 48 degree angle (some probably drooling helplessly onto their shoulders). Everyone was wearing similar winter uniforms of dull colours, blacks, browns and greens, with a touch of fur to add dazzle. The most pungent odour I came across was a faint trace of laundry detergent mixed with cigarette and morning beer breath. I was underdressed and therefore cold and irritable. Between 8:00am and about 9:20am, I really hated Japan. Having to work at 2:00pm later in the day didn't help either.

PM

At 2:00pm, my foolish plans to maximise my holiday time came back to haunt me. As I walked in the door of the school, I could alreading feel my lids beginning to creep over my eyeballs. The next six hours were perfectly arranged, with every minute accounted for and every word I was to hear utterly predictible. By 3:30pm, I was listening to a standard account of a Japanese New Year's day, and, as my eyes glazed over for the second time that day, I imagined myself back in the Shangri-la Hotel looking out over the tropical city and the Petronas Towers. And in that hotel room, I was imagining myself being dragged through the tropical

waters of the Anadaman Sea behind a yacht - a nice refuge (above). As I walked home at about 8:50pm, it was below five degrees and I could detect the faint smell (left) of three dishes as I passed the massive houses near the station - sukiyaki (and its variations), grilled fish and Japanese curry. I wondered what a street might smell like  in a multicultural Japan?

The Faint Smell of Burning Toast

AM

Since the fire on Monday, our apartment has smelt like burning toast. The mornings though, have been freezing and early on Wednesday morning, I noticed that the hills toward Mount Kongo were dusted in snow. Once again, it's as if a switch has been flipped from Autumn to Winter in an instant. Incredibly, the number of women wearing real fur seems to be in plague proportions. It is striking, how despite global opinion, Japanese people seem to be happy and confident enough to do whatever takes their fancy. Again on Wednesday morning, I read a Japan Rail travel advertisement for Tohoku that included a bowl of whale blubber soup as one of its attractions. Later the same morning, I spoke to three women about eating whale meat and they professed that it's smell made their stomachs turn - as school kids they had all been fed a steady diet of cetecean flesh for lunch. On a more boring note, this morning was essentially ruined by a trip to the immigration bureau. Although I got my three year visa smoothly, the sight of the 'crats wading through the overheated room a snails pace made my skin crawl. At least I won't have to go back for a while.

PM

The freezing gale that buffeted my trip home on Thursday night, was a crushing addition to my doldrums after finding that Brutal Truth had begun playing just as I clocked off at Nakamozu. All afternoon, I had been cold to the bone. Unusally, the school was barely heated, probably in an attempt to save money. As the year draws to a close, the business at work seems to be waning, and as a result, folding promotional flyers has again become a fixture to my days. A rare highlight on Thursday was being asked what I found embarrassing about Japan. I'm still not sure what the question actually meant, but my reply included the fact that nude bathing is reserved for oddballs in Australia. It's probably another example of Japan's collective neurosis that people are happy enough to show the world everything on the outside but nothing of their inner lives. Frustratingly fascinating.

Vinegar and Milk

AM

The AMs of this week have been characterised by cool crisp mornings. Not quite cold enough to be interesting, but cold enough to make it extremely difficult to get out of bed. My Sunday morning was destroyed by a hangover caused by a misadventure in the PM hours of Saturday. At 11:45am, I opted for a Family Mart cure in which I included the greasiest food items I could procure. The crumbed chicken on rice set, had a hangover-fighting layer of skin wedged in between the flesh and the oiled crumbs. The FamiChiki [ファミチキ] (right), was from the thigh of the bird, heavily crumbed and deep deep fried - one bite sent a torrent of oils down my hand. With a bottle of Pocari Sweat, the cure worked to a degree - I didn't die. In my delerium though, I bought a strange drink, for the sole reason that it was strange. The words Vinegar and Milk (right) shouted at me from the fridge and for some reason, I bought it and for some other reason, it would haunt me later in the PM hours.




PM

By 7:00pm, I was sufficiently recovered to think about heading next door for a meal of fajitas. The  fajitas were just what I needed to seal my health. In fact, they continued the chickeny theme of the day by including some very well seasoned breast meat. Soon, the meal turned into a game of UNO, and the card game became a college-esque drinking game - the draw four was a nightmare. Because I was still convelescing from my Takoyaki Party* -induced illness, I chose not to drink. To be polite, though, and to give me a reason to play cards to win, I fetched my bottle of Vinegar and Milk to sit in as my poison. Although it had been sitting on my desk for seven hours, it wasn't curdled. It's flavour immediately took me back to time when I've 'licked the spoon' only to find the mixture was for some sour lemon tart - horrifying. For about two hours I grimaced through the drink, and despite all my hopes, it actually got worse with every sip. When I had finally finished I chose a 16 vegetable drink for my next project. It wasn't much better.

________________________________
* The takoyaki party was held at my Nakamozu School in the PM of Saturday. The main damage was done by tequila and whiskey  - the reason I drank these is still unknown. I still shudder.

Helmets and Wigs

AM

At 9:50am, I cut and toasted two of the six bagels I bought yesterday from Bagel & Bagel at Namba Parks. Undoubtedly, this was the highlight of the morning, although the two deliveries for Rosie from Amazon did add some interest to an otherwise standard morning. Crucially, though, it wasn't rainy, allowing me to complete the drudgery of visiting the dry-cleaners to pick up a pair of pants that were well overdue for a wash. On the way home, I was struck by the number of babies on bikes that were helmetless - crazy!




PM

By 2:50pm, I was on my way out to work at Yao which sits  at the base of the Ikoma mountains and no doubt quake prone. The stinking heat of the tram barely distracted my from the woman in designer clothes, snorting up her snot like a five-year old. At least she wasn't coughing uncovered like everyone else. It's only a matter of time before the swine flu strikes now - hopefully before the Christmas break. The comical highlight of the Yao voyage was clearly the old man wearing a jet-black Elvis toupe. It is impossible to imagine that he though no-one would notice - maybe he just likes the look. I wish I was rude enough to have taken a photo but the file photo right appears to show the identical model.

The Return of AMPM

Sunday 7th of December 2009

After a wildly busy November, I have finally decided to bring back AMPM as an almost daily record of my lull in Japan. Although the format is sligtly simplified, I will still attempt to write about both the moments of interest and the drudgeries of my life here.

AM

At about 11:20am, Rosie and I walked down to the station on a mission to complete our christmas shopping in one day. The highlight of the train trip was a lunatic having an apparently sensible conversation with his reflection. As I feared, the shops were packed with parents and grandparents buying gifts with as much or more fever as in Melbourne. In the sprawling Toys R Us, parents were carrying trains, puzzles, computer games, dolls and unicycles. Despite this chaos, it was the stifling heat inside which characterised my morning. Although is was chilly outside at around 10C, inside must've been approaching 30. Everytime I, walked into a shop, I had to remove my jacket, lest the sweaty memories of the Osakan summer returned. At the end of a couple of hours, the shopping was finished for another year - I just hope the parcels arrive in Australia in time.

PM

By 6:10pm, after an afternoon of wrapping gifts and dozing under the heater, I settled on my plan for the evening meal. I made a sukiyaki-style broth then added vegetables, tofu and noodles. Despite the distinct lack of meat, it was actually very successful in terms of taste. The sugar in sukiyaki, makes it completely more-ish and probably very unhealthy but it would be unthinkable to leave it out. The night was made even better by a few episodes of Battlestar Galactica which is getting almost as addictive as the sukuyaki broth. By about 10:30pm, my drowsiness was only stifled by the  constant wailing of fire sirens outside - I'm not sure exactly where they were off to, but it seemed pretty close. Deadly fires appear to be too common in Japan.

Broadcasting Will Resume Shortly

AMPM is taking a short break to re-energize. AMPM will return soon.

D.

Beans and Boars in Sasayama

AM

Least: At 10:01am, I had to face the drudgery of calling in sick. The awkward conversation lasted only a few minutes, but after being put on hold a couple of times it seemed to last an hour. At least I felt much better knowing that I didn't have to work today - it's amazing what a day off can do.

Most: By 11:50am, I was speeding through the mountains with my mum, towards Sasayama, about 70km northwest of Osaka. The trees in the mountains were well on the way to their Autumn hues and the landscape was spectacular. The only downside were the long tunnels which took away the views just as quickly as they appeared. A great trip.


PM

Least: Just after 5:00pm, I was beset with a nagging headache. It could've been a lack of coffee, simple dehydration again or the towering beer that I had for lunch with my sukiyaki. Either way, it made the last leg of my journey home twice as boring as it otherwise might've been.

Most: At about 12:45pm, we arrived at the smallish town of Sasayama. After reading about the town in a local English magazine, we thought it might be a good day trip. The town had lots of small interesting shops, food stalls and the ruins of a castle that was built in 1609. The town is famed for its black beans and wild boar - many taxidermied versions of the latter adorned almost every restaurant. For lunch though, we tried the local beef and it was spectacular. As the only Europeans in town, numerous people came up to us and said hello - a really friendly and interesting town off the Lonely Planet map.

Lost in Umeda

Sunday 8th November 2009

AM

Least: At nearly 8:30am, my eyes opened to find that I had a serious hangover. The mixture of beer,chu-hi and champagne took its toll and gave me a searing headache. The shock of seeing my mother sitting on my couch last night was a sobering experience and hid the real level of drunkeness that I had attained at the takoyaki party. I just wish the reminder was a faint memory rather than a stinking headache.

Most: At 8:31am, despite my confusion and headache, it came back to me that mum had made a surprise visit and was snoring on the couch. It's weird how time seems to compress when people so familiar tunr up. It seems like yesterday, when Mum and Dad were here in February, or when I was eating roast lamb in August. I make Mum poached eggs on toast for breakfast and we ate while trying to decide what to do for the day.

PM

Least: Just after 1:00pm, I, with Rosie and Mum, was once again stumbling around, lost in Umeda trying to find the Sky Building. It is such a warren that even above ground it is almost impossible to confidently navigate the area. The problem is, that every corner looks the same and that after making any turn, any familiar landmarks immediately disappear. When I finally spotted the sky building, it was still a long walk away - they must have found some cheap land to build it on, because it's off by itself with little around it. Signs please.

Most: At about 1:20pm, as we ascended the Umeda Sky Building, Mum screamed at the glass lift rocketed up forty floors. By the time we were on the escalators that cross the building, Mum was very giddy. From the top of the tower, the familiar smog hid the horizon. Although this was my second visit to the building, the view still amazed me. The density of the city is incredibly and it seems to fill every possible area for building. Despite the agony of finding the place, it was worth the walk.

The Surprise Part II

Saturday 7th November 2009

AM

Least: At nearly 11:00am, I sat down at work with tweny-five minutes to kill. I had arrived in Wakayama at 10:31am, a full three quarters of an hour before I have to clock in. Because of the train timetable on the JR Hanwa line, if I get a later train to attrive at 11:05am, I have to wait at least twenty minutes on the platform at Hineno. Boring - almost ads boring as discussing train timetables.

Most: At about 10:20am, as my train exited the last tunnel of my journey, I could see that the mountains were quickly changing colour. Many of the leaves of the trees have begun to turn, slowly creating a spectacular backdrop to an otherwise boring train ride. Hopefully in a couple of weeks the Autumn colours will be on full show - I'd better get some photos.


PM

Least: At just after 8:00pm, the first searing ball that I picked up for the night at the Sakai-Higashi takoyaki party rolled down my shirt-front. Given that it was drenched in delicious brown sauce, I wasn't surprising that it left a similarly delicious train down my front. It was embarrassing, though luckily I wasn't wearing a tie. By the end of the party, I was swaying with beer and looked like a complete wreck with the stain giving added effect.

Most: At nearly 11:00pm, I staggered up the stairs and opened the front door. To my absolute astonishment, my mother was sitting on the couch and had arrived earlier that evening. Given that I was completely unaware of the conspiracy, I could barely believe my eyes and had to look twice to check that it wasn't some kind of hallucination. Rosie had known for a week and kept the big secret under wraps perfectly. We celebrated with some chanpagne - what a nice surprise!

What's That Smell?

Friday 6th November 2009

AM

Least: At about 11:50am, my senses were attacked by an intense rotten egg smell coming from outside. This is the second time that I have been grievously assaulted by this particular odour and I am yet to come up with any theories about its source. I am refraining from naming it as the fourth bad small of Japan - but another attack could just bring it into contention.

Most: At nearly 6:00am, I was woken by the simple fact that I was cold. It is amazing how quickly the morning have gotten cold. Once again it is as if the govenment has flicked a weather switch. The brutality of the summer seems to have erased the memory of cold mornings in Japan, but this morning they started coming back.

PM

Least: At nearly 11:00pm, I realized that I was a number of days behind on the AMPM blog. To save the pain of rifling through my memory for events of days gone by, I will soon have to begin taking notes. The danger is though, that I will look and feel like one of those people who annoyed my so much in Clifton Hill.

Most: At about 1:00pm, I was finally admitted into the world of the point card. After buying a smallish item of electronics at LABI I was offered, an recieved a point card. At the instruction of the staff, I inserted it into a poker-like machine and watched the pictures spin. I won a 10 yen bonus. A little disappointing, but I feel it could be the start of something big,

Puffer Fish Lunch

Thursday 5th November 2009

AM

Least: At about 10:20am, I finally got out of bed after hitting the snooze button so many many times that the alarm simply gave up. I'm not sure if it was the early day yesterday, but today I felt exhausted. I might have to invest in a series of alarms, each with an increasing volume that will force me out of bed early.

Most: At nearly 11:45am, I rode through Tezukayama on my way to Life supermarket. A huge (and previously mentioned) white house that I often ride past, has finally been completed and appears to have occupants. The ultra modern building, has been tempered with a small garden on one side. The garden has a moss lawn and a few small trees. The interesting feature though, are some obviously ancient stone water features that help make the house accepably Japanese. I just wished I lived there. (photo right)

PM

Least: At 2:35pm, as I walked into work at Nakamozu, it became obvious that the week had dragged on for too long. The overdose on Halloween festivities probably didn't help, and the day off on Tuesday made it feel like ages since I'd walked through the glass doors of the school. It is strange how time plays tricks, both flying by and dragging at the same time.

Most: At about 1:00pm, I sat down to a plate of Puffer Fish sashimi (Fugu). I'd bought it at the supermarket, attracted by the picture of the deadly fish on the label. Given its notoriety it was a little exciting to taste the flesh for the fisrt time. It had a very delicate flavour, but was delicious. It came with a small sachet of soy sauce, a spicy sauce and chopped spring onions. For a supermarket meal, it was amazing (see photo top). I was left with a numb mouth for a few hours, but otherwise I was unaffected and remained alive to tell the tale. Apparently recently, Japanese scientists have been mass producing non-toxic puffer fish so maybe it's not so deadly after all.