Sweat

Two weeks in the humid Japan summer and I became very familiar with sweat. Other than the days I was soaked in rain I spent the remaining days soaking my own shirt. One day in particular stands out from the others though. My final day in Tokyo, I woke up with a headache; a result of the previous night. All you can drink, and all you can eat Korean pork belly, for a couple hours and anybody would be staggering as they walked out. The next morning however, I had a mission to take Chloe to Yokohama to visit my family and witness the monstrous size of their cat. 

From the moment I headed out for Yokohama, I began a sequence of events that would lead to the worst sweat of my trip. A hurried lunch at the family home, pictures with the cat, and off to the train station. At this moment I was calm as can be, hopping from train to train all the way to Akihabara. I’d left my big bags in a locker there, but had to go out to Chris’s to pick up my computer and skateboard. At Chris’s I jumped in the shower so I wouldn’t spend the next many hours feeling disgusting. After a quicker than I would I would have liked goodbye with Chloe, I ran for the train station, a panic slowly setting in. I took the train to another stop, where I had to wait for the fast train to Narita Airport. The Skyliner Express didn’t reach the airport until 5:25. My flight began boarding at 5:45, and of course, I got off at the wrong terminal. By the time I made it to the proper terminal it was 5:48. This was when the sweat really set it. A 44 liter pack on my back, a 22 on my front and a computer bag in hand, I checked the screen for which check in counter to go to. Counter B. I dreadfully looked up at Counter L. Nearly bowling down fellow travelers while sprinting to the proper gate I had only one repeating thought, “I WILL get on that plane. I WILL get on that plane.” Counter B was deserted. No Air New Zealand signs, and only a single person behind a computer. Wide eyed she looks at me and timidly asks, “Auckland?”

Pouring sweat, I paced while she called up baggage control and frantically checked me in. They took my luggage and I sprinted for security.

No more than 15 minutes from when I stepped off the bus between terminals, I sank into aisle seat 24J.

Half an hour after takeoff, we hit violent turbulence. The kind of turbulence where I could only envy the sleeping people. The kind of turbulence where I could only wonder about the irony of sprinting to this plane.

Sweat from panic, sweat from fear, sweat from physical exhaustion. 

I’d experienced them all in a matter of an hour. 

Needless to say, I needed another shower. 

Naptime

Kanazawa

Toyama is to Tokyo as Portland is to New York City; Smaller, and a lot more my speed. Spending the days lounging in the air conditioning or exploring Toyama in the sweltering heat, life in the mountains of NZ quickly left my thoughts. Chloe taught English by day, while I puttered about, eventually making dinner on her weirdo cook top.

One day we took the train over to Kanazawa to meet a friend of mine. Yasu (former Maruia Springs maintenance man) met us at the train station, before leading us on a walk up to the castle and the famous Kenrokuen gardens. With only one umbrella between Chloe and I, I took the brunt of the sudden downpour. In the refreshing summer shower, I took shelter only to protect my camera, and get shots of the beautiful garden. The latter however, did not work out to my full desire. Damn you rain...

Kanazawa Station

Battle at the Castle

Kenrokuen

Oldest fountain in Japan

Big pond

To Toyama

After a few long nights in Tokyo, usually ending in an early morning drunken stop at the MacDonald’s breakfast menu, the coast to coast train ride was a relieving pause.  These long distance Shinkansen rides are where my JR rail pass really came into fruition. While the thousands of other people around me buy tickets or scan their 'Pasmo' to squeeze through the turnstiles, I simply flash my pass to the attendant who invariably nods and waves me though. Any JR train, anywhere, anytime. Brilliant.

As much as I was looking forward to the few hours of tranquil, expedient rail travel, it couldn’t compare to the joyous anticipation of seeing Chloe after seven long months. 

toy blocks in a Toyama mall

cream filled seal pups

fish stick

Toyama from Chloe's top floor

Dino Chloe

Toyama evening

Chloe's ancient train 

I spy the Starbucks!!

Lone, Magnificent Starbucks on the river

(glowing structure to the right)

To Tokyo

I spent my initial days with family in Yokohama, I heaved bags onto my back and hopped aboard the train to Tokyo. As would be repeated countless times throughout the trip, I went forth without any phone numbers or way of contacting the friend I would be staying with. I hadn’t even bothered to jot down my families home phone number. And of course it was moments after waving goodbye to my parents that I realized the predicament I had gotten myself into. Speeding down the tracks bound for the capital, I was completely lost in my own thoughts of how on earth I was going to pull this one off. I had one phone number in my notepad and they didn’t know my friend. When I reached a pay phone I called anyways. My thoughts were to get a sequence of telephone calls from person to person originating from my payphone, hopefully to the person I was staying with. I got the answering machine… Somehow confident that it would all work out eventually, I got myself out of the dreaded heat and into an pleasantly air conditioned bar. Sipping on what very well may have been the most refreshing beer not only physically buy psychologically, I was struck by a new plan. After hastily throwing the rest of my beer down my throat, I heft my immense load back onto my shoulders and ran to the payphone. To my relief the phone is answered and my plan is set in motion. Half an hour later I’m in the shower, so happy to have that weight off my shoulders.

Yokohama Station Joinus

The Journey to Summer

Two days into my brief summer, my body has not, and will never, adjusted to the tenacious heat or the humidity. Words such as uncomfortable, overwhelming, sweltering, and the like, cannot possibly hope to describe what it feels like to walk through the hell known as summer in Japan. It's like a living in a sauna, steam rising from your pores as sweat cascades into your clothing. And what could be worse than the "Trying to work up a sweat" old men crowding the saunas of the world, you ask? The Japanese people crowding your every possible line of sight, wearing pants, jackets, hats, leggings, and any other article of clothing that would cause me to perish if i were to even get too close. And to make things worse, hardly anybody seems to have broken a sweat. There I am drowning in my own filth, watching Japanese person after person comfortably stroll by in layers of clothing, without a single bead of sweat to be seen. 

Three days ago marked the genesis of my travel chaos. Nearly two days of nonstop hassle caused by the inability to check in until 3 hours prior to my flight, culminated when some unknown barbarian threw  my travel companion (Ashland Co-op water bottle) in a toilet full of pee. I spent nearly eight hours waiting in Christchurch, before flying up to Auckland where a 10.5 hour layover awaited me. (In the midst of which my bottle was violated in the worst way) After a hectic check in I was finally able to board the 777 bound for Japan. Exhausted from countless hours attempting to sleep on a bench bathed in the golden glow of the MacDonald's arches, I allowed myself to be herded down the floating tunnel into the bowels of the aircraft.  

In all honesty, after a miserable experience in the airports of New Zealand, the flight to Japan with Air New Zealand was a thing of beauty. An incredible movie selection, touch screens, games, and reasonably comfortable seats. Even the food was palatable. Being airplane food, my expectations for it were rather low, yet I'm happy to say that I was pleasantly surprised. 

So here I am, sitting at my computer trying not to drip sweat on the keyboard, anticipating a busy yet very exciting two weeks of visiting friends and family. 

Welcome to hour upon hour of waiting to sit for another 10 hours...

down, up, up, straight up.

Where's Wall-do?

Still dark, the airport begins to stir...

" 'scuse me" - As i stick my elbow in my neighbors face to take some photos.

Gigi taking the shopping home

World of White

Winter. All signs indicated it was receding, giving way to spring. Days were getting significantly warmer, only the distant peaks were carpeted with snow, and the occasional sand fly came out of hiding to bite the unsuspecting passerby. With nary a hint of rain for over a week, I recurrently walked the dry gravel path back to my room.

Waking up I could sense an uncharacteristic calm had enclosed the world around me. Dubiously parting the curtains, I was once again shocked by the scenery before me.

The clouds had unleashed a sudden blizzard on the entire country. Far more snow than the previous falls combined, had been dumped on us overnight.

Standing in the forest, all sounds are muffled; overhead, snow-clad branches mist frost, wetting my lens.

The snow still falls.

The ground gets deeper by the hour.

Sunset from my bed

Overnight

Serene Forest

Definite Moment in the Doorway

Moving On

School Holidays are a funny thing. Until recently they provided an escape from an incessant workload, and a seemingly necessary lapse in attentiveness, and devotion. Not that I had much of either. The former however, always applied. Unfortunately, working at a place where other people go to escape means I get particularly busy during the school holidays. A sudden winter holiday coupled with an unusual work schedule resulted in a long few weeks. After missing my days off assisting in the kitchen, I was once again craving a trip out of the mountains.

A nearly sickening decent through the winding hills was only bearable due to the magnificently blue skies. It seems like an eternity since the last time I saw an unclouded sky. A few hours later, I was unloaded onto the streets of Christchurch. Strangely enough, there was more snow there than in the mountains. The bus stop was only a few blocks from the city center. I hadn’t been back there since my first trip, days before the earthquake. Aside from the demolition and construction teams (from what I could see there isn’t much of a difference) nobody has been allowed in since.

The largest buildings I’ve seen on the south island were deserted. A ghost town of infrastructure slowly being torn apart is an eerie sight indeed. Sitting on a bench along the Avon River I watch as a building is gradually demolished. Months ago I sat on this same bench, watching busy cafés, people shopping, and ducks in the river. All I could see now was abandoned businesses, a desolate scene covered in settled dust. An ominous air hangs over the city center.

So what do I do? I walk into the casino to my left, take my winnings and go see Harry Potter. It may seem insensitive, but it’s what needed to be done. I’m in town to enjoy civilization, not reflect on dark times. Moving on may be difficult for some, but it’s what’s best. Though it’s certainly taking an inordinately long period of time, it’s what the demolition crews are doing. It’s what the people of Christchurch are doing. Talking to countless people who lost their home, their business, and life as they knew it, not a single person grieved about their situation.
They simply stood by each other to face whatever was to come.