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