PM
Showing posts with label namba. Show all posts
Showing posts with label namba. Show all posts
Tuesday, 14 September 2010
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!
PM
Sunday, 13 September 2009
Bogies at Nine O'Clock
Saturday 12 September 2009
AM
Least: Just after 9:30am, I boarded the JR Rapid at Mikunigaoka and sat in a seat reserved for people with ailments. This particular seat is at the rear of the carriage and is located directly above the bogies that roll the train to Wakayama. I have a faint memory of my Grandfather saying that you should never sit atop the train wheels because the ride is too rough. My half-hour experience between Mikunigaoka and Hineno proved this theory correct. I felt every bend, join and undulation of the train track, which at a glance looks futuristically smooth. As the train lurched incessantly, I was reminded of my sore neck and by the end of the trip its weakness had turned me into some kind of bobblehead. Thankfully I didn't experience nausea, despite the wild ride and the faintish smell of the toilets.
Most: At close to 8:10am, I peered out my kitchen window to see a filthy and wet pidgeon attempting to preen itself. The wetness of the pigeon told me that it was or had been raining outside. August seemed to be particularly dry and I was hoping for rain to wash summer down the drain. This morning, a constant drizzle freshened the streets, trees and gardens. Nearly an hour later, walking toward the station, I could actually smell the pine-ish fragrance of the gardens that grace the yards of the stinking rich. I also thought that the rain wold keep some of the Wakayama day-trippers off my morning train and free up some seats (see above). Thankfully, the day-trippers stayed home and I got to sit down.
PM
Least: Sometime after 5:37pm as my train left Wakayama station, I witnessed the ruthless musical chairs of the Kishuji Rapid. Because people are so desparate to sit alone, whenever a seat becomes available there is an undignified scramble to fill it. As people left the train at both Musota and Kii stations, people jumped to their feet to escape the horror of sitting next to another human being. The disappointment on people's faces when they just missed their chance at happiness was all too apparent and some of them had to return to their seats - the horror, the horror. I suppose it is forgivable given that personal in Japan is as such a premium but I'm sure that it doesn't need to be so cut-throat.
Most: Pretty close to 8:30pm, I walked into T's kitchen to relieve the agony of my hunger. After inhaling some doteyaki, octopus and several small glasses of beer, I came to the conclusion that I needed something more. A few days ago a student told me about the autumn culinary delight sanma, which is a longish silver fish a lot like a sardine which is grilled whole. T's Kitchen had one waiting for me. I pointed to the dead fish through the window of the counter and watched it grill. The final result was a very simple dish with some grated daikon and a cumquat. It was delicious and was not encumbered by the smaller bones which were edible. After my mauling, all that was left was the a cartoonish plate with the head, some stomach contents and a spine remaining. My next challenge will be to recreate the fishy experience at home in our fishgrill. Thanks T.
AM
Least: Just after 9:30am, I boarded the JR Rapid at Mikunigaoka and sat in a seat reserved for people with ailments. This particular seat is at the rear of the carriage and is located directly above the bogies that roll the train to Wakayama. I have a faint memory of my Grandfather saying that you should never sit atop the train wheels because the ride is too rough. My half-hour experience between Mikunigaoka and Hineno proved this theory correct. I felt every bend, join and undulation of the train track, which at a glance looks futuristically smooth. As the train lurched incessantly, I was reminded of my sore neck and by the end of the trip its weakness had turned me into some kind of bobblehead. Thankfully I didn't experience nausea, despite the wild ride and the faintish smell of the toilets.
Most: At close to 8:10am, I peered out my kitchen window to see a filthy and wet pidgeon attempting to preen itself. The wetness of the pigeon told me that it was or had been raining outside. August seemed to be particularly dry and I was hoping for rain to wash summer down the drain. This morning, a constant drizzle freshened the streets, trees and gardens. Nearly an hour later, walking toward the station, I could actually smell the pine-ish fragrance of the gardens that grace the yards of the stinking rich. I also thought that the rain wold keep some of the Wakayama day-trippers off my morning train and free up some seats (see above). Thankfully, the day-trippers stayed home and I got to sit down.
PM
Least: Sometime after 5:37pm as my train left Wakayama station, I witnessed the ruthless musical chairs of the Kishuji Rapid. Because people are so desparate to sit alone, whenever a seat becomes available there is an undignified scramble to fill it. As people left the train at both Musota and Kii stations, people jumped to their feet to escape the horror of sitting next to another human being. The disappointment on people's faces when they just missed their chance at happiness was all too apparent and some of them had to return to their seats - the horror, the horror. I suppose it is forgivable given that personal in Japan is as such a premium but I'm sure that it doesn't need to be so cut-throat.
Wednesday, 2 September 2009
Meeting Jamie
AM
Least: By 10:40am, I was within a whisker of being late for my far-off shift near the shores of Lake Biwa. Because the timing of my journey was so tight, I had only minutes of flexibility between my arrival time and clock in. My train was running three minutes late according to the sign and according to another electronic display it was because of a "Human Damage Accident" (some guy saw the same think and made the same tired remarks). I can only assume that some poor former salary-man had decided to end it earlier in the morning - a sad price to pay for being so stoic.
Most: At 10:25am, I caught my first view of Lake Biwa and was surprised at both its size and at the industrial wasteland that surrounded it. From the deathly still airs of Kyoto it is hard to image such a massive lake lurking just behind a mountain range or two. The internet tells me that the lake is home to unique freshwater wildlife and an annual birdman competition that has run since 1977. Too bad I will have to wait until 2010 to see it.
PM
Least: Not long after 6:00pm, I was once again lost in the JR Station maze at Umeda. I am beginning to believe that it is a living animal and changes every time I have the misfortune in visiting it. I knew that I was doomed before I even reached the wrong exit gate. To compound matters, a decrepit old man was taking a lifetime to charge his ICOCA card and my frustration only served to get me more lost. By the time I reached the Midisuji line, I felt like I'd walked a couple of kilometres - mostly in circles and at one point outside. My travel horror was capped off back at Nankai station where I missed my train by seconds - the conductor showed no mercy.
大きな地図で見る
Most: Approaching 9:00pm, Rosie and I were just finishing our meal at a local yakitori place when a youngish Japanese guy with a heavy American accent introduced himself at Jamie. What at first seemed a normal friendly introduction quickly became a bizarre and rambling monologue. Jamie was speaking as if he was straight from some acid trip from the 1960s and he actually sounded a lot like Dennis Hopper in Apocolypse Now. He spoke perfect English, but not one of his sentences made sense and we were reduced to uhuhing and yepping. His rant went along the lines of '... so man I didn't bring many apples so with my professer is was just like, man just go and check out how the water's flowing you know. I mean what is night? Turn black into day red into green man and it's either one or the other if its the other of the one man...' and so on and so forth. His goodbye consisted of a 'stay groovy' and a 'have a good life man'. Needless to say the other Japanese diners were literally staring at him with their mouths open. A truly strange experience.
Least: By 10:40am, I was within a whisker of being late for my far-off shift near the shores of Lake Biwa. Because the timing of my journey was so tight, I had only minutes of flexibility between my arrival time and clock in. My train was running three minutes late according to the sign and according to another electronic display it was because of a "Human Damage Accident" (some guy saw the same think and made the same tired remarks). I can only assume that some poor former salary-man had decided to end it earlier in the morning - a sad price to pay for being so stoic.
Most: At 10:25am, I caught my first view of Lake Biwa and was surprised at both its size and at the industrial wasteland that surrounded it. From the deathly still airs of Kyoto it is hard to image such a massive lake lurking just behind a mountain range or two. The internet tells me that the lake is home to unique freshwater wildlife and an annual birdman competition that has run since 1977. Too bad I will have to wait until 2010 to see it.
PM
Least: Not long after 6:00pm, I was once again lost in the JR Station maze at Umeda. I am beginning to believe that it is a living animal and changes every time I have the misfortune in visiting it. I knew that I was doomed before I even reached the wrong exit gate. To compound matters, a decrepit old man was taking a lifetime to charge his ICOCA card and my frustration only served to get me more lost. By the time I reached the Midisuji line, I felt like I'd walked a couple of kilometres - mostly in circles and at one point outside. My travel horror was capped off back at Nankai station where I missed my train by seconds - the conductor showed no mercy.
大きな地図で見る
Most: Approaching 9:00pm, Rosie and I were just finishing our meal at a local yakitori place when a youngish Japanese guy with a heavy American accent introduced himself at Jamie. What at first seemed a normal friendly introduction quickly became a bizarre and rambling monologue. Jamie was speaking as if he was straight from some acid trip from the 1960s and he actually sounded a lot like Dennis Hopper in Apocolypse Now. He spoke perfect English, but not one of his sentences made sense and we were reduced to uhuhing and yepping. His rant went along the lines of '... so man I didn't bring many apples so with my professer is was just like, man just go and check out how the water's flowing you know. I mean what is night? Turn black into day red into green man and it's either one or the other if its the other of the one man...' and so on and so forth. His goodbye consisted of a 'stay groovy' and a 'have a good life man'. Needless to say the other Japanese diners were literally staring at him with their mouths open. A truly strange experience.
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