Tokyo Notes

Trip to Tokyo with Takako - first stop, Cinema Rise in Shibuya to see 'Lost in Translation', which was released here on Friday, in about 3 cinemas nationwide. Cinema tickets are sold in the same way as train tickets: you can turn up to whichever screening you fancy, between certain dates. So if you want a seat, you have to start queuing early. If you want a good seat, you have to run fast, with sharpened elbows, when they open the doors to the theatre. Quite enjoyed film; funny in parts; good performance by Bill. For those who want to know: yes, it's really like that. They'd toned down the kids playing the drum games in the arcade - if they'd really shown the more energetic fans of these machines you'd have thought they were making it up for a cheap laugh.

Then onward, via Freshness Burger, the best fast food chain, with the best name, to Roppongi Hills. Roppongi is the district where westerners usually go (once, anyway) to experience Tokyo nightlife, and where it's possible to drink in the company of those charming gentlemen of the U.S. Marine Corps. Roppongi Hills, however, is a new, and very flashy, leisure, shopping and (for the very well-heeled indeed) residential complex. Met Takako's friends in an Italian restaurant; this picture reveals its spirit. The girls knew the waiter, having been regulars at his previous restaurant, and it was all jolly nice.

First day of holiday. Tried to get chores out of the way before holiday proper starts. Tomorrow I'm going to dinner in a smart restaurant in Tokyo with Takako and her friends, so I needed to get some suitable trousers - my work gear is too smart for the weekend. Obviously, my ordinary clothes have holes in them, and haven't been washed for a while. Muji heard my cry. Preppie khaki trousers a-go-go, and much cheaper than Gap. How I love Muji. However, they only come in one leg size - very long indeed - and one is expected to sew the hem. Fortunately, Mother Knows Best (TM): she had insisted on my packing a needle, and a selection of differently coloured threads.

Muji also enticed me into buying a most superbly engineered laptop bag/briefcase/(and this is the best '/') backpack. And a large plastic drawer, easy to carry home on my bike, but large enough to put my towels in, and designed to be stacked. Next week I'll buy another. In a few weeks I'll have an attractive chest of drawers.

Last day of work - fourteen days of freedom and merriment begin tomorrow - so went to the pub, obviously. Plenty of Shane teachers and receptionists, similarly liberated, had the same idea. Was in time for the last train home though, so not an especially riotous evening. Most people have planes to Thailand, or night buses to Kyoto to catch tomorrow.

I own a mobile phone. It has a nifty camera built-in, so expect to see many more pictures here. I now understand why everybody on the train fiddles with theirs constantly - they're trying to figure out how to use it. It has recently replaced, without my asking it to, the rather attractive picture I'd taken for use as a background, with "Hello Kitty" and her little rabbit chum.

Living in Japan; essential skills; #23: sleeping on trains

Essential because there just aren't enough hours in the day. A train journey is otherwise wasted time, and, if you're lucky, you get a comfy seat where you can have a snooze. In most carriages, about a fifth of the people are dozing. If it's crowded, someone will put their head on your shoulder and take a nap. Those with serious sleep deprivation issues - salarymen and high school kids - have mastered the art of catching forty winks whilst standing, hanging from a strap. The other main trick to acquire is the ability to be wakened by your station's jingle. I nearly missed Odawara yesterday, but luckily was able to jump up, grab my bag, and leap out the closing doors just as the Odawara tune was sounding its final, tinny notes.

My holiday begins in two weeks, but I will be working on six days in each of them. This is because one of my colleagues has had to depart Japan in a hurry, for the following reasons, straight from the why-would-you-make-it-up department.

So, this guy was drinking in a bar in Odawara, and had a few too many. Somehow, and the story is a little vague about exactly how, a drink was spilled, or an insult traded, and he got into a fight with some Japanese people. Well, of course, they were Yakuza. Their mates were none too pleased, but were a little less than subtle with their investigations into my former colleagues' location. He was able to be whisked off to a secret hotel, where he was kept under police protection for a few days, before being escorted to the airport. Meanwhile, the mob went round every school in the district, looking for him. After a few days of fruitless searching, they let it be known that their honour would be satisfied by the blood of any British teacher. This was a worrying moment for all concerned. Fortunately, I didn't hear this detail until it had all been sorted out, which happened like this. My boss, and the school principal, had a meeting with the godfather, or whatever he's called, and, after a sum of money was handed over, the episode was closed. Astonishingly, this sum was ¥5000, the price of the petrol used in searching.

So the moral is: don't mess with gangsters. Yeah really? Thanks for the advice. After attempting a cover-up, my employers have issued an official statement in which I am advised to avoid "unsavoury characters", and in particular, not to visit John Festa's bar in Odawara.

Thanks for the birthday greetings from Italy - most kind, much appreciated.