May 24, 2010
Gondolas, Hawks, Fail Day
Start dinner.
First course: fresh crab, spring vegetables, roe.
Second course (clockwise around the plate): avocado and scallop, sardine and daikon, seaweed jelly, whitebait and taro, mountain greens, potato "cherry", edamame and fish.
Third course: flatfish sashimi and "slippery" potato.
Fourth course: head of sea brim.
Fifth course: seafood tempura.
Sixth course: hamo (fish) in broth served with rice.
Seventh course: kiwi fruit and orange.
End dinner.
After chatting to our host after the meal we learn we can walk under the toori gate that grows out of the ocean as it's low tide. Always chat as you never know surprises will come out of it. I never did explain the Itsukushima Shrine: the torii, built of camphor wood, is about 16 metres high and built in a four-legged style to provide stability as the entire structure rests on the sea floor meaning at high tide the gate looks like it's floating. The camera had a tough time dealing with the light so the whole thing will have to live in our memories, as we climb back up the seawall we have THE Sprited Away moment: a ferry cruises is through the mist all lit up, a whole bunch of restaurants and omiyagi shops lend the same feel you see when darkness descends in the film. See it and you'll get a feel for what I mean. We cruise around looking for a couple of cans of beer for dessert, get some taiyaki, and head for bed: two single futons on tatami meaning proper Japanese sleepware.
Breakfast proper Japanese: shellfish soup, grilled salmon, sweet layered egg, tofu with spring onion on which we poured soy sauce, pickles including sour plum (on which probably sour lemon candy is based), and rice. Coffee and fruit, kiwi and strawberry, by the wandering lake.
We go climb a mountain: Mt. Misen. There be hawks flying. Hot, hazy day meaning quite the slog although we didn't walk all the way up as we were helped along by a gondala then cable car to the base. We copped the haze our whole stay in Miyajima meaning the views were skewed though you get that a lot in Japan. If you decide to come this way I'd leave it to August when it's warmer as there's island hopping and some amazing looking beaches to be had. The forestation is mad wet too, no doubt due to the surrounding water, quite different to the foliage you get when heading south on the east coast of Australia.
We wave our goodbyes to Miyajima and jump the wrong train to Osaka. All stops. All waits. After we get passed by the third shinkansen I log in and hit up Angus the Search Engine (aka The Little Ford That Could) for some help. Turns out the train will be a full four hour ride instead of one and a half so we eject, jump on an express, and pass our original train about ten minutes later. More fail sees us running around Osaka station, currently being hacked by the locals, before a singing taxi driver who went out of his way to call the hotel as he couldn't figure out on the map where it was, gets us to where we need to be. Average dinner followed by awesome gyoza joint, followed by nightcap, followed by a full twelve hour monster sleep.
First course: fresh crab, spring vegetables, roe.
Second course (clockwise around the plate): avocado and scallop, sardine and daikon, seaweed jelly, whitebait and taro, mountain greens, potato "cherry", edamame and fish.
Third course: flatfish sashimi and "slippery" potato.
Fourth course: head of sea brim.
Fifth course: seafood tempura.
Sixth course: hamo (fish) in broth served with rice.
Seventh course: kiwi fruit and orange.
End dinner.
After chatting to our host after the meal we learn we can walk under the toori gate that grows out of the ocean as it's low tide. Always chat as you never know surprises will come out of it. I never did explain the Itsukushima Shrine: the torii, built of camphor wood, is about 16 metres high and built in a four-legged style to provide stability as the entire structure rests on the sea floor meaning at high tide the gate looks like it's floating. The camera had a tough time dealing with the light so the whole thing will have to live in our memories, as we climb back up the seawall we have THE Sprited Away moment: a ferry cruises is through the mist all lit up, a whole bunch of restaurants and omiyagi shops lend the same feel you see when darkness descends in the film. See it and you'll get a feel for what I mean. We cruise around looking for a couple of cans of beer for dessert, get some taiyaki, and head for bed: two single futons on tatami meaning proper Japanese sleepware.
Breakfast proper Japanese: shellfish soup, grilled salmon, sweet layered egg, tofu with spring onion on which we poured soy sauce, pickles including sour plum (on which probably sour lemon candy is based), and rice. Coffee and fruit, kiwi and strawberry, by the wandering lake.
We go climb a mountain: Mt. Misen. There be hawks flying. Hot, hazy day meaning quite the slog although we didn't walk all the way up as we were helped along by a gondala then cable car to the base. We copped the haze our whole stay in Miyajima meaning the views were skewed though you get that a lot in Japan. If you decide to come this way I'd leave it to August when it's warmer as there's island hopping and some amazing looking beaches to be had. The forestation is mad wet too, no doubt due to the surrounding water, quite different to the foliage you get when heading south on the east coast of Australia.
We wave our goodbyes to Miyajima and jump the wrong train to Osaka. All stops. All waits. After we get passed by the third shinkansen I log in and hit up Angus the Search Engine (aka The Little Ford That Could) for some help. Turns out the train will be a full four hour ride instead of one and a half so we eject, jump on an express, and pass our original train about ten minutes later. More fail sees us running around Osaka station, currently being hacked by the locals, before a singing taxi driver who went out of his way to call the hotel as he couldn't figure out on the map where it was, gets us to where we need to be. Average dinner followed by awesome gyoza joint, followed by nightcap, followed by a full twelve hour monster sleep.
May 24, 2010
Giant Robots And Rain
On a train bound for Hiroshima. It's raining which both gives a break from the heat as well as adding a layer of mystacism to the place. Our last day in Kyoto was spent under a layer of mist that eventually turned into buckets of sky juice but that was just fine by us. We hit the Kyoto Imperial Palace gardens, found out we needed to book a tour to get a look in and decided to leave it. For the next visit. We slowly trampled up to Heianjingu, feet were starting to feel the pinch, and took in a fairly massive torii gate. The temple itself, built only last century, is standard fare but tucked behind it is an amazingly curated garden again the stuff of spirits and fairies made all the better by the prevailing mist. A duck slightly gracefully lands as we cross an idylic wooden bridge, upon where we're spat out on the other side of the temple. A taxi ride finds us up a hill, back again amongst the school kid haze, this time peppered with shutterbugging tourists. Kiyomizudera is dotted amongst the hills on which resides a spectacular forest. In the snow the whole thing must look like it's bursting out of the clouds. There's several temples in the complex, massive stone walls, and if you're game you can drink the mountain water: you'll just have to wait for the 139 screaming kids that are in front of you. We could try and hustle I guess. Train ride, spill beer on the bed in our new room, same ramen joint, reading and resting. We hit a fresh okonumiyaki joint, rolling since 1948, to fill up before making a beeline for Gion. The Gion Kobu Kaburenjo Theatre is impressive, just wish we could say the same for the rest of the district. The further we dive in the more we realise we're hitting the city's red light district. It's all legs and hunting packs of salary men. We retreat to Old Suntory and water in Kuro (Black) Bar, chatting with the super friendly bar peeps, listen and laugh at a very young Lionel Richie fronting the Commodores, before calling it a night. Wet shoed, we shimmy home. Sayonara Kyoto.
Missed the giant robot at Kobe if it's even still there.
Hiroshima. Dome. Peace Park. I'll just keep it in my head and my heart. Heading back to Hiroshima station to catch a local train we spot an oba chan flipping udon so grab a couple of seats and order up not realising we were supposed to get tickets out of a vending machine first. Never mind. Super fresh beer and katsudon cranked out by the tiniest lady working out of one of the tiniest kitchens I've yet encountered. It was good. Even better when she cracked open the vending machine to get our change. Jumped the local train to Miyajimaguchi which I'm guessing means wharf or jetty. Is there even a difference? Overheard a bunch of ETs - English Teachers - cooking up the next big thing. Everybody seems to have a plan in Japan. I sure as hell do. At the jetty, the Japanese / every one else ratio jumps way over to our side. Lots of people like us headed for the island. A taxi ride, complete with tiny winding roads and the odd deer or three sees us at the doorstep of Watanabe Ryokan being greeted by our hosts. The place is out of a dream: by a running stream, deer crusing over a stone bridge, all wood, and a killer tub that looks out over the hills. Finally get to sink a beer whilst soaking in the tub - cross that one off the list. We go for a quick spin before dinner, taking in the magical countryside which is the closest yet to reminding me of my time spent in Hakuba back in 98. Cute deer chase an obi-chan along a boardwalk. We wonder why until we see him pull a bag of food out of his pocket, the pack of deer go in again for nibbles and he beams. Guess the do not feed the deer signs are lost on him. Then again, whatever. Back to the ryokan to wash up for dinner.
Missed the giant robot at Kobe if it's even still there.
Hiroshima. Dome. Peace Park. I'll just keep it in my head and my heart. Heading back to Hiroshima station to catch a local train we spot an oba chan flipping udon so grab a couple of seats and order up not realising we were supposed to get tickets out of a vending machine first. Never mind. Super fresh beer and katsudon cranked out by the tiniest lady working out of one of the tiniest kitchens I've yet encountered. It was good. Even better when she cracked open the vending machine to get our change. Jumped the local train to Miyajimaguchi which I'm guessing means wharf or jetty. Is there even a difference? Overheard a bunch of ETs - English Teachers - cooking up the next big thing. Everybody seems to have a plan in Japan. I sure as hell do. At the jetty, the Japanese / every one else ratio jumps way over to our side. Lots of people like us headed for the island. A taxi ride, complete with tiny winding roads and the odd deer or three sees us at the doorstep of Watanabe Ryokan being greeted by our hosts. The place is out of a dream: by a running stream, deer crusing over a stone bridge, all wood, and a killer tub that looks out over the hills. Finally get to sink a beer whilst soaking in the tub - cross that one off the list. We go for a quick spin before dinner, taking in the magical countryside which is the closest yet to reminding me of my time spent in Hakuba back in 98. Cute deer chase an obi-chan along a boardwalk. We wonder why until we see him pull a bag of food out of his pocket, the pack of deer go in again for nibbles and he beams. Guess the do not feed the deer signs are lost on him. Then again, whatever. Back to the ryokan to wash up for dinner.
May 20, 2010
Smells Like Kyoto Schoolgirls
It took us a while to find a decent looking visor, if it wasn't for the polka dots we'd probably still be looking. Managed to find a dainty little okonomiyaki place where upon we ran out of money. And so the mad hunt began for a Kyoto ATM that served up Visa. Done and dusted, sleep, 7am trampling school kid alarm clock.
Taxi to the Golden Palace, a world heritage listed temple that fronts onto a turtle and white goose frequented pond, which again would have been a game changer except for the other thousand people paying their dues. That's what you get when hitting the tourist beat ... I guess? We head towards the Ryoanji Temple, famous for its blissed out rock garden and find a bakery, Matsu Matsu, along the way. Serving up hand-made apple custard scrolls and wouldn't you know it Illy coffee the place was another sweet stumble upon. The rock garden was slightly more relaxed, we managed to dodge the hoards on this one, but what really grabs you is the layout of the place: one massive room filled with tatami looking out over the intricately designed rock garden which backs onto an impressive hedge of greenery. The surrounding gardens, where Claire pointed out the young folk would have got to run amok in, is filled with moss and wonder, the stuff of fairies. A short shuffle finds us on a local train station; a single carriage rolls up to give us a Spirited Away moment. There's just something about country Japanese trains. Well recommend.
We manage to navigate on foot - being passed by taxi after taxi of screaming Japanese school kids which have now become somewhat of a feature - to Nijo castle. And what an absolute monster it is. Places like this are indescribable: epically massive, so old it hurts, and you can almost feel the blood that must have oozed out of the place in its heyday. More school kids, this time with yellow caps. We called it a day, smashed an amazing ramen, nanna-napped, and called the front desk to complain about the kids (another recurring theme).
A subway ride to Kyoto, to take a trip up Kyoto Tower, sees us enjoying the fruity end of a gaggle of Japanese school girls after a day in the heat. Enough said. Kyoto is impressive from up on high, well worth the elevator ride. We shoot back uptown and stumble upon (another) hidden alleyway where we catch our first glimpse of a proper geisha. The smiles were all ours. Get lost again, miss out on our favourite new okonomiyaki joint by about a minute, more sore feet, then sleep.
Taxi to the Golden Palace, a world heritage listed temple that fronts onto a turtle and white goose frequented pond, which again would have been a game changer except for the other thousand people paying their dues. That's what you get when hitting the tourist beat ... I guess? We head towards the Ryoanji Temple, famous for its blissed out rock garden and find a bakery, Matsu Matsu, along the way. Serving up hand-made apple custard scrolls and wouldn't you know it Illy coffee the place was another sweet stumble upon. The rock garden was slightly more relaxed, we managed to dodge the hoards on this one, but what really grabs you is the layout of the place: one massive room filled with tatami looking out over the intricately designed rock garden which backs onto an impressive hedge of greenery. The surrounding gardens, where Claire pointed out the young folk would have got to run amok in, is filled with moss and wonder, the stuff of fairies. A short shuffle finds us on a local train station; a single carriage rolls up to give us a Spirited Away moment. There's just something about country Japanese trains. Well recommend.
We manage to navigate on foot - being passed by taxi after taxi of screaming Japanese school kids which have now become somewhat of a feature - to Nijo castle. And what an absolute monster it is. Places like this are indescribable: epically massive, so old it hurts, and you can almost feel the blood that must have oozed out of the place in its heyday. More school kids, this time with yellow caps. We called it a day, smashed an amazing ramen, nanna-napped, and called the front desk to complain about the kids (another recurring theme).
A subway ride to Kyoto, to take a trip up Kyoto Tower, sees us enjoying the fruity end of a gaggle of Japanese school girls after a day in the heat. Enough said. Kyoto is impressive from up on high, well worth the elevator ride. We shoot back uptown and stumble upon (another) hidden alleyway where we catch our first glimpse of a proper geisha. The smiles were all ours. Get lost again, miss out on our favourite new okonomiyaki joint by about a minute, more sore feet, then sleep.
May 19, 2010
Japanese Only
We dropped the shinkansen from Tokyo to Kyoto. Quite the train ride. Watching the engines roll into the station, completely robotic, it reminds me of the giant battle robots in Evangelion and makes me wonder if manga has somehow embedded itself into the engineering design practices of the country. I must say I so like a good train ride, and hammering through Tokyo's urban sprawl, through mountains not over them, is one definite have to do.
You can sense the oldness in Kyoto. Although the usual things are there - from convenience stores through pachinko palours - it's not as big or busy as Tokyo. We manage to catch the end of a flea market and wander around watching the sun go down. A temple here, a temple there, and even manage to spot some rockabillys dancing out the front of what looks to be an official building of some sort. At dinner I managed to talk my way into an isakaya that didn't have an English menu meaning my Japanese is starting to kick back in. I'm doing okay.
Waking up the next day we decide to crack it and spend three and a half hours getting lost in Kyoto. The 1000 bhuddas at Sanjusangendo temple is a must see although they could have reined in all the yapping school kids. Claire spotted a monk giving a couple of kids an earful so obviously we weren't the only ones. There's a temple called Yogenin just across the road from Sanjusangendo where we discovered that only locals were welcomed after being so eloquently told by an oba-chan: "Japanese only". We've noted it and will attempt to find out, via our Tokyo babysitters, why we weren’t granted access. The temple had plenty of history including a bloody battle of which some remnants still remain, perhaps the reason why we were turned away. Lost in the suburbs, sore feet, sun burn, more dodgy Japanese, my spoken word not the food, in a local ramen joint, now sleep.
You can sense the oldness in Kyoto. Although the usual things are there - from convenience stores through pachinko palours - it's not as big or busy as Tokyo. We manage to catch the end of a flea market and wander around watching the sun go down. A temple here, a temple there, and even manage to spot some rockabillys dancing out the front of what looks to be an official building of some sort. At dinner I managed to talk my way into an isakaya that didn't have an English menu meaning my Japanese is starting to kick back in. I'm doing okay.
Waking up the next day we decide to crack it and spend three and a half hours getting lost in Kyoto. The 1000 bhuddas at Sanjusangendo temple is a must see although they could have reined in all the yapping school kids. Claire spotted a monk giving a couple of kids an earful so obviously we weren't the only ones. There's a temple called Yogenin just across the road from Sanjusangendo where we discovered that only locals were welcomed after being so eloquently told by an oba-chan: "Japanese only". We've noted it and will attempt to find out, via our Tokyo babysitters, why we weren’t granted access. The temple had plenty of history including a bloody battle of which some remnants still remain, perhaps the reason why we were turned away. Lost in the suburbs, sore feet, sun burn, more dodgy Japanese, my spoken word not the food, in a local ramen joint, now sleep.
May 19, 2010
None Too Many
The drinking culture in Japan is noticebly different to that of our own, Australia. Sure they have there fair share of alcoholism and the like - though I haven't researched the statistics to prove it - one thing I do know is that the sense of not getting hammered for the sake of it washes away the first time you step into a bar that holds four people downstairs and the same number again in the loft. You're sitting down for one, relaxed. You interact with the host who, in most cases, is sipping on something alongside you. You chat. You laugh. So you're reading this saying "that sounds like the usual Friday night" but here's the kicker: you're out of there after one drink. A short walk, train, or taxi ride and you hit the next place: the third floor of what looks to be an apartment block; a custom fixed gear bike shop; a straight up isakaya (a bar that serves food). And again you're out of there after one. You eat some food at the next place which has the added effect of tiring you, but in a good way. Compare this with your usual Friday: beer's in quick succesion, standing up, where you have to scream to be heard, music blaring and television sets pounding you with visuals. It's all condusive to heightening the senses which has the flow on effect of making you want to drink harder and faster. Malcom Gladwell has written all about Drinking Cultures in The New Yorker which I think goes to proove at least some of this.
The next time we hit the town I'm going to propose an experiment in which we hop bars one night, trying to put at least a good ten minute dash between each bar (although I know Sydney's just not that big enough), and putting a food stop in there somewhere. Who knows, we may get to know a whole bunch more about our friends, get home at a decent hour and be able to remember, well, everything.
The next time we hit the town I'm going to propose an experiment in which we hop bars one night, trying to put at least a good ten minute dash between each bar (although I know Sydney's just not that big enough), and putting a food stop in there somewhere. Who knows, we may get to know a whole bunch more about our friends, get home at a decent hour and be able to remember, well, everything.
May 11, 2010
Unrealised Pornos: The Meme Don’t Work
So I've been hatching word games on Twitter for the past four, maybe five weeks. Really simple wordplay stuff like concatenated band names, TV show suburbs, band names swapped out with yew, that sort of thing. It makes people giggle, it's completely unproductive, it makes people think. When it does work, it's amazing to watch the stream of tweets come through. It's fast, you have to be quick in the brain, and the output is always fairly amazing. But sometimes it doesn't go to plan.
I had been planning Unrealised Pornos for a while: pornographic movies are notoriously short on plot so why not just steal someone else's work and remake it? Some classic realised films include Edward Penishands, Beverly Hills Cock, Shaving Ryan's Privates, Jurassic Pork, and, ahem, Womb Raider. So I put it to the kids to come up with their own, seeding it with the likes of The Empire Strikes Backdoor, Star Whores, The Jewel In The Piles, Romancing The Bone, and Avatart. But it didn't work, it didn't gel and it never tipped. As I said later on, "meme some, lose some". Chatting to Joel Magic after the fact, he said he "didn't get it". It never clicked that it didn't make sense, it always makes sense to me because I cook them up. I'll take it as a learning curve and wait for the next one that flops so I have something to compare it to. And as it turns out, Fashion Bands turned out a treat.
Perhaps Mark Brownie summed it up best: "@kripy 1) sucked in 2) sucked in 3) sucked in hard".
I had been planning Unrealised Pornos for a while: pornographic movies are notoriously short on plot so why not just steal someone else's work and remake it? Some classic realised films include Edward Penishands, Beverly Hills Cock, Shaving Ryan's Privates, Jurassic Pork, and, ahem, Womb Raider. So I put it to the kids to come up with their own, seeding it with the likes of The Empire Strikes Backdoor, Star Whores, The Jewel In The Piles, Romancing The Bone, and Avatart. But it didn't work, it didn't gel and it never tipped. As I said later on, "meme some, lose some". Chatting to Joel Magic after the fact, he said he "didn't get it". It never clicked that it didn't make sense, it always makes sense to me because I cook them up. I'll take it as a learning curve and wait for the next one that flops so I have something to compare it to. And as it turns out, Fashion Bands turned out a treat.
Perhaps Mark Brownie summed it up best: "@kripy 1) sucked in 2) sucked in 3) sucked in hard".
May 10, 2010
Fashion Bands
Best in show: Frank Sartor, Bag Raiders, 16 Tacos, Kat Thomas, Mathieu, Marnie Cate. The Hosties were on fire.
Some of the highlights: Romance Was Korn, Ksubi 40, Yves Calvin Klein Blue, Right Said Fred Hardy, My Chemical Romance Was Korn, Alexander McQueens of the Stone Age, A.P.C.E.O, Rittenhouse Of Pain, Supre Furry Animals, Das Monkees, Jeans Westlife, Cheap Happy Mondays, Lil Wayne Cooper.
Some of the highlights: Romance Was Korn, Ksubi 40, Yves Calvin Klein Blue, Right Said Fred Hardy, My Chemical Romance Was Korn, Alexander McQueens of the Stone Age, A.P.C.E.O, Rittenhouse Of Pain, Supre Furry Animals, Das Monkees, Jeans Westlife, Cheap Happy Mondays, Lil Wayne Cooper.
May 8, 2010
May 8, 2010
Courtney 75% Love
"Just 24 hours before that appearance, she said, she was performing with the former Guns N' Roses rockers Slash and Duff McKagan at a hotel anniversary party in Las Vegas. "I don't know anyone else who could do that," she said. "Those are two very different worlds, and I've got one foot in each of them."
The New York Times
The New York Times
May 7, 2010
The Redneck Ecstasy Equation
"We had a big decision to make when we were offered drugs. Doing them would show you are not judging them. On the other hand, the fear is you're gonna fuck up your camera work. Once they wouldn't let me shoot till I snorted a pill with them."
New York Magazine
New York Magazine