Our last day in Japan and we both wake with heavy heads from last nights shochu and heavy hearts because this is the end of an amazing experience.
We spent most of the day wandering listlessly around the very hip Shimokitozawa area. The last time we were here in 2019 it was wall to wall vintage stores and just a few cafes and bars. It has been gentrified and transformed in the period since. Still lots of vintage stores but so many more hipster experiences can now be had here. More craft breweries, more ice cream places, more bookstores, more vegan cafes – so naturally we loved it and fitted right in.
From there it was a mad dash to the airport. That fricken Shinjuku station nearly waylaid us again but we made it with time to spare. Shinjuku station can suck it.
Anyway I’m waiting to board a plane back to Melbourne so I thought I’d wrap this up with a few pictures and observations of a general Japanese nature. I’m bored so give me a break.
Japanese toilets are ace. Warmed seats, a myriad of sprays for your bits, automatic opening and closing lids. Some even play music. This beautiful backlit deluxe model from our stay at Tommy’s Inn in Koyasan was my personal favourite.
The Japanese love the Beatles. Which obviously is one of the reasons why I love this place. We heard the Beatles everywhere from Fukuoka to Shimokitazawa. This is Japanese George and Paul in a Beatles cover band playing outdoors at Shimokitizawa today. They actually weren’t that bad.
Crossing the road in Japan is a whole other thing. It doesn’t matter if there’s no traffic for miles, or if it’s 6 am or midnight, no one – and I mean no one – in Japan crosses the road against the lights. Everyone waits until the row of little red cubes (see pic above) slowly and progressively disappears and the walk signal appears, before walking calmly across the road. This often takes a very long time (at least compared to Australia).
The power line set up in Japan is chaotic and ugly. This photo was from the balcony of our AirBnB in Tokyo. In contrast to the order everywhere else, the average Japanese street has power cables running everywhere – it looks dangerous and it’s certainly visual pollution but somehow it all still works.
I’ve said it before. I’ll say it again. Shinjuku station is a nightmare. This is a lazy Saturday afternoon underground at Shinjuku. Avoid.
Well this is it. Our last full day in Japan and hasn’t Tokyo turned on the weather for us? 34 degrees. Take it easy Tokyo will you? We’re from Hobart.
But of course it’s never too hot for coffee. So off we went to Double Tall Coffee again. Excellent again. From there we took a sultry summer stroll through Gyoen National Garden in Shinjuku. You know, the garden that was all locked up the day before? Well this time it was unlocked – and lovely. The grass was a deep green and all the plants and trees looked perky and colourful despite the heat. The greenhouse was a particular treat. But honestly it was too hot to be walking – so once more we took refuge in the Shinjuku shopping craziness. We wanted to sample some quality matcha ice cream and today was the perfect time to do just that. We headed to a place in Shinjuku that made organic matcha ice cream called simply The Matcha Tokyo. My choice, soft serve matcha will little matcha sugar sprinkles. Jules had matcha ice cream. I was the winner (of course that’s just my opinion) but there was just a hint of bitterness in both – and also in the ice cream.
After a quality sushi lunch in Shinjuku eating dishes I don’t know the name of, at a venue I don’t know the name of (Google Translate had simply decided to stop working), we decided to head back to the AirBnB. Which would have been fine except that getting there required us to navigate through the impenetrable Shinjuku station maze. We’d done it successfully multiple times before, but this time for some reason we got deeply, hopelessly lost. And so it was that we spent an hour in the heat going up and down the same sets of stairs (weren’t we here 15 minutes ago?), crossing the same massive underground spaces with thousands of others (who knew exactly where they were going). We became what I had previously sneered at – just another two gaijin idiots standing in the middle of a crowded thoroughfare, blocking the way and staring slack-jawed at their phones. It was only after actually leaving the station and starting again that we found our way. We were very soggy and very pleased to reach the air-conditioned calm of our accommodation.
A couple of hours later we had rehydrated and recovered ourselves enough to consider braving the outside world again. We had no choice anyway – we had two tickets to see a baseball game between the famous top ranked Tokyo Giants vs the underdogs, the Tokyo Yakult Swallows. And there was no way we were gonna miss that. The game was at Meiji Jingu Stadium, the Swallows’ home ground, just a short 20 minute walk from our accommodation. Thank Christ no more trips via Shinjuku train station were required.
Baseball is massive in Japan and being at a game seeing thousands of rabid fans engage in elaborate choreographed cheering (often featuring little umbrellas or coloured towels) is an incredible sight. This game featured the two top local teams and it was pretty much a sellout. I’m no baseball expert, but we knew enough to be able to follow the game, drink the beer, eat the fried chicken and get sweaty with the locals (those plastic seats are murder on the cheeks when it’s hot and humid) for the next couple of hours. We seemed to be seated with the Giants fans – so of course that’s who we cheered for – we’re not stupid. And that’s who won.
This was our last night in Tokyo and we were determined to find a decent drink somewhere to wrap things up. We decided to try Open Book Ha (the bar we had attempted unsuccessfully to visit the day before). So after subway trip jammed in with thousands of other sweaty semi-pissed baseball fans, we made it to a gloriously cool and mercifully open bar. It was wonderful. A lovely space with great snacks (confit tuna and toasty things in case you’re wondering) and even better drinks. They do these delicious lemon sours – which you can get made with filtered or unfiltered shochu. We tried both and chatted with the lovely guy who runs the place. It was a relaxed way to wrap things up. We almost felt like locals.
Striding out with optimism once more. It wasn’t long before the heat had turned us both into mouldy puddles.
The cutest latte art ever. The barista at Double Tall Coffee created a perfect portrait of Jules and her best mate Miko. Tasted amazing too.
The greenhouse. Shinjuku Gyoen National Garden. Because it wasn’t hot and humid enough outside.
Orchids in the greenhouse.
A leaf obviously.
More pretty greenhouse gear.
Not sure what this plant is called. I’ll let you make up a name.
The Taiwan Pavilion in the Shinjuku Gyoen National Garden.
Manicured foliage. Shinjuku Gyoen National Garden. Not pictured, the egg frying on the pavement.
Just desserts. Some organic matcha ice cream after a relaxing stroll through the furnace. The Matcha Tokyo Shinjuku.
Nice uniforms. Nicer sushi. Don’t know the name of the place we had lunch in, it was all in Japanese and Google translate packed it in. We were flying blind. Just like in the olden days.
Tuna carpaccio. Lunch.
Not New York. Tokyo – Shinjuku Gyoen National Garden and surrounding area viewed from the top of Takesheyama Department store.
At the baseball. Tokyo Yakult Swallows vs the Tokyo Giants. 1st innings. Meiji Jungu Stadium.
Baseball refreshment. Did I mention it was hot?
Kirin beer seller at the baseball. They walk relentlessly up and down the stands with beer kegs strapped to their backs, sweating and selling beer to pissed baseball fans. Not me though, I have scruples. I bought my beer downstairs.
Sage advice. Meiji Jingu Stadium.
This young fella won a prize of some sort so they put him up on the big screen at the baseball. He looked awkward and I don’t blame him.
Later in the game. Giants fans wave their little orange towels to remind the Swallows fans that they are getting their arses kicked.
Packed stadium. The Swallows fans wave their little shiny umbrellas to remind the Giants fans that they just hit a home run.
Nightcap. At a bar called Open Book Ha. We finally made it. Jules views her Shochu Lemon Sour with scepticism. It was in fact delicious.
We’ve been away for 3 weeks and it’s been pretty much solid gold day in, day out. So the law of averages says that eventually an average day has to pop its head up – right? That day was today. Don’t get me wrong though, a shit day on holiday in Tokyo is always gonna beat an average day at work. So let’s keep it in perspective – but it has to be said that today had its frustrations and disappointments. There were however many compensations in the form of quality food and beverages, so let’s get into it.
Tokyo is v hot and humid right now. But I think I’ve already whined about that in previous posts. Despite the heat (34 degrees), I decided it would be a top day for an early morning run. The gorgeous looking Shinjuku Gyoen National Garden is not too far from our AirBnB and I thought a slow and steady run through the trees would be just the ticket. I was particularly seduced by what is described on the map as the “row of plane trees.” So off I went. The first gate to the park that I encountered (by then sweating profusely) was closed. Oh well I thought, it’s probably a minor entrance. I’m sure the bigger gates will be open. Wrong. By the time I’d skirted halfway round the massive park I finally had to admit defeat – the park was closed. Who knows when it opened? I jogged home with the start of a crushing headache reminding me what a stupid gaijin I was.
After a shower and some rehydration we struck out optimistically once more. This time we had some luck. Some perfect coffee and delicious bickies at Double Tall Coffee in Shinjuku. We will be back.
Suitably fortified and with my headache receding, we jumped on a train to Sengawa. Our destination was the Tokyo Art Museum, designed by your friend and mine Tadao Ando. In fact there were apparently 5 or 6 of his buildings on the same street in Sengawa. So we went off to see for ourselves. The buildings are all designed to fit into very narrow spaces and despite the heat we managed to see most of them. But the highlight for me was the interior of the Tokyo Art Museum. Or it would have been. They wouldn’t let us in. They were changing exhibits according to the apologetic hipster at the door. I thought briefly about falling to my sweaty knees and begging him to let us in anyway. But I have my dignity.
So that was two strikes. And when you’re up against it you’ve gotta stick with what you know – something safe and reassuring. In our case that’s shopping. We spent a happy hour or so in the massive Tower Records Store in Shibuya. But it was getting late and our thoughts turned to drinks. We decided to head to Shinjuku to a bar we’d heard about called Open Book Ha (the larger, newer, cooler sister of the Open Book bar that we visited when we first arrived in Tokyo a few weeks ago). So we got there (two train changes and a decent walk in the heat), peered in the windows – it looked way cool – bottles of Lemon Sour backlit from the dappled light of the park behind the bar. There was a handwritten sign on the door in Japanese (katana) – Google translate told us the bar was closed today due to sickness. Three strikes. We were out.
Almost. Summoning up all our middle class traveller strength, we struck out for Afuri. A ramen chain that we know is top notch and there was one in Shinjuku! All we had to do was find it. Sadly it was buried in the nine circles of hell that is Shinjuku train station. After 25 minutes or so of aimless wandering, almost in tears, we caught sight of it tucked away in a department store food hall. Was it worth it? You know it.
Tomorrow is another day. Our last full day in Japan.
Access denied. A side gate into the Shinjuku Gyoen National Garden.
Nope. Not this way either.
My headache dissipated thanks to the excellent coffee at Double Tall Coffee Shinjuku.
Yes the coffee was excellent. And the homemade chocolate chip cookies (still warm) with chocolate drizzle were even more excellenter. Double Tall Coffee Shinjuku
The Tokyo Art Museum in Sengawa. Designed by Tadao Ando. The interior was supposed to be stunning. We’ll have to take their word for it. They wouldn’t let us in – too busy setting up for the next exhibition.
More Tadao Ando work. In the same street. This is the Sengawa Theatre. Jules is using it to shelter from the blazing heat. It was closed.
More work from old mate Ando. There are 5 or 6 of them on the same Sengawa street.
Sums up our mood perfectly.
Browsing the new vinyl section at Tower Records Shibuya. 8 floors of music bliss. Including a whole floor of K-Pop complete with the usual live performance from yet another boy band.
“Deep chocolate canele.” From some place called Canele et Crème Glacee in Shibuya. It was perfecto. Not sure what’s going on with my thumbnail. I take a calcium supplement.
Our train to Shinjuku. We were determined to find a bar/restaurant that was a) cool and b) open.
Success! Shoyu Yuzu Ramen and tasty side dish. Plus beer! At Afuri Ramen Shinjuku.
OK here we go again. Another day where we need to cover some ground in trains and automobiles. And there’s only one way to prepare for a testing day of timetables and maps – and that’s with a bit of morning meditation with 5 Esoteric Buddhist Monks.
We were up early – OK very early – in Koyasan. It was 5:17 am – just about the time I usually get up for boot camp. But no Lycra was required on this occasion – nope we were heading back into Okuin Cemetery once more. Deep into the cemetery over the Goyobashi bridge and into the Torodo (the temple directly in front of Kobo Daishi’s mausoleum – see the post for day 19 for more on the Kobester).
We’d heard that the monks deliver a tray of food to Kobo Daishi’s tomb at 6 am every morning. After that they chant in the temple for 45 minutes or so and visitors are allowed in to sit and observe or meditate or whatever. Usually you can’t get access to the temple – but we’re both fans of a bit of early morning quiet time – and that’s why we were there. We expected lots of other gaijin to be there too. We were wrong – all the other gaijin were obviously sleeping off the previous night’s sake. There was only one other Japanese woman, 5 Buddhist monks – and us. All in this massive, dimly lit, incense filled temple. Luckily the Japanese woman knew what she was doing so we followed her lead, sat (well knelt actually) behind the monks and tried to focus and stay clear headed. Meanwhile for the next hour the monks chanted (the harmonics were remarkable), rang bells, lit candles etc. It was an experience – no talking, no phones, no photos. The walk back out was lovely.
Later, after some truly appalling coffee (I guess there aren’t too many Buddhist baristas out there – but seriously this was undrinkable) it was time to drive back down the mountain and into crazy old Osaka. From there we boarded what would be our last Shinkansen back to Tokyo. Sigh.
Our last AirBnB in Japan is a bit of a shoebox, but it’s in a great location – quiet – but just a stone’s throw from the Shinjuku super action. Tokyo seems so much hotter (low thirties) than Osaka. And then there’s the humidity. So we dumped our bags and went off in search of some Shinjuku based refreshments. After one false start we found Yona Yona bar in a massive Shinjuku basement. Hoards of young people drinking the v popular Yona Yona range of craft beers, yelling, laughing and munching on a range of quality snacks. Luckily we like all of those things so we played along – and as usual did our best to keep a low profile. Job done.
Entering Okunoin Cemetery on the way to hang with the monks. 5:37 am.
Three grassy knolls – can’t tell you what these are all about. 5:42 am
Festive Buddha. 5:45 am
Bibs and bliss. 5:49 am
Soggy moss growing on a headstone. Okonuin Cemetery. Koyasan.
Bye bye hire car. A little capsule of air-conditioned luxury amongst all the traffic chaos of inner city Osaka.
Back on the subway in Osaka. I very much approve of the polished timber panelling and the lush green velvet upholstery. Wonder how long that would last in say, Sydney?
The many options available to you if you are desperate enough for vending machines coffee on the Shinkansen train platform. I was not that desperate.
Kyoto school kids out the window of the Shinkansen train on the way to Tokyo. Moments later the boy with the purple suitcase flipped me the bird. Only kidding – he made a cute little peace sign.
Getting to our tiny little AirBnB in Shinjuku proved to be a challenge. It was v v hot and some sections of the path were ridiculously narrow. This is for real a walkway.
Dinner at the Yona Yona Bar and Restaurant in Shinjuku. Yona Yona is a v successful local craft beer and they have set up a pretty decent underground bar. Stacked with young cool cats and a two gaijin wannabes.
It wasn’t just all about the beer of course. The pics do it a disservice. Radish salad with bonito flakes, and kale salad with toasted almonds and walnuts with a gorg dressing. Not pictured, the chicken and wedges we also ate.
Shinjuku. From meditation (well we did our best) with monks to this – all in a few briefs hours. Proper culture shock.
We’re like sharks. Well sharks with wheelie suitcases. We can’t stay still for long. We have to keep moving forward. And today our forward momentum was carrying us to Koyasan. A small Buddhist town up in the hills about and 90 minutes due south of Osaka by car on a very windy road.
And car was the way we had chosen to travel. Hire cars aren’t too expensive in Japan – comparable to train fares in some instances. So we packed up, picked up (the car) and decided the first destination in our Toyota Yaris should be a decent cafe. Somewhere on the backstreets of Osaka. Should be easy right? Wrong. It was complicated and confusing – but luckily most Japanese drivers drive slowly and calmly (at least by Australian standards) so we were able to get our coffee fix with only a few wrong turns and no one flipping me the bird.
For my next trick I needed to negotiate my way out of Japan’s second biggest city and onto the irresistibly named Kinki Expressway. That part of the trip was supposed to take 20 minutes. 40 minutes later we triumphantly merged onto the Kinki… heading in the wrong direction. Eventually we got our heads and the car turned around and made some proper progress. Once we got off the freeway, the houses and high rises eventually gave way to greenery, rice paddies and trees. As we climbed, the road got narrower and windier – it reminded me a little of sections of the road up to the summit of kunanyi. With all the recent rain there was water everywhere, either side of the road and sometimes on the road. But it was a lovely drive and we stopped at a lovely restaurant wedged by the side of the road in a deep valley. I think it was called Otemoto – and their specialty was tomatoes – which they grew in abundance by the side of the river. I had a fab tomato garlic spaghetti thing and Jules had omurice with homemade tomato sauce. Sooo good.
Not long afterwards we made it to Koyasan. Japan Guide website says this about the town:
“Mount Koya (高野山, Kōyasan) is the center of Shingon Buddhism, an important Buddhist sect which was introduced to Japan in 805 by Kobo Daishi (also known as Kukai), one of Japan’s most significant religious figures. A small, secluded temple town has developed around the sect’s headquarters that Kobo Daishi built on Koyasan’s wooded mountaintop. It is also the site of Kobo Daishi’s mausoleum.”
That’s the facts. My impression, and I don’t mean this in any sort of flippant or dismissive way is that Koyasan is a kind of Buddhist Disneyland. It is so beautiful, and the temples are so impeccably maintained, and the gardens are all so perfectly laid out it’s almost doesn’t feel real. But at the same time it also feels – and I’m reluctant to use this word – authentic. There I’ve said it. Anyway we loved Koyasan – especially after we did the night tour through Okunoin Cemetery!
Yep the tour takes you through Okunoin Cemetery – which apparently holds over 200,000 graves – some new, some dating back centuries. Our tour was led by a local Esoteric Buddhist monk called Nobe. He told us he’d been a monk for 15 years – but later I heard him telling someone about his wild days in Manchester in the early 2000s. Maybe he was a Happy Mondays fan? Anyway of course it started bucketing rain at the start of the tour – but as we walked deeper and deeper into the cemetery it eased and eventually stopped. There was just mist to add to the vibe. It was a totally ace experience.
Nobe shared some pearls of Esoteric Buddhist wisdom with us (some of which I found quite profound). Esoteric Buddhism is apparently all about contemplating the hidden, the unseen and the untouchable parts of ourselves and our environment. He also shared a bit about the founder of Esoteric Buddhism (the dude who also founded Koyasan in the year 816 AD), a monk by the name of KoboDaishi (not to be confused with Kaiser Soze from the Usual Suspects). Apparently Kobo Daishi locked himself in the temple to meditate and never came out. They say he may be in there still meditating even now. If that’s the case he’s gonna need a razor. At the end of the tour we were left to wander back to our accommodation on our own through the cemetery in the misty dark. The best.
Driving in Osaka can be nerve wracking. Luckily I had recently trimmed my nails.
Expressway view.
Such a windy road. So many tunnels. On the way to Koyasan.
Lunch at a spectacularly good restaurant in the hills on the way to Koyasan. Tomatoes were their thing and they knew how to cook them. We would have bought a dozen jars of their sauce but we didn’t want any trouble from Australian customs.
The little rivulet (at least that’s what we call them in Hobart) that runs through Koyasan – including right past our guest house.
Okonu-in Cemetery. Before dark.
Beanie Buddha. I guess it gets cold up in Koyasan in winter – but it was 25 degrees when I took this.
OK look, it was raining again. And it is our own fault for flying into Japan in the wettest part of the year – but it does kinda sorta limit what you can and can’t do with your day. I’m not complaining mind you – just lots more opportunities for black and white photos.
Coffee first. From a place nearby called Melbourne Coffee. It was fine – jaffles and “smashed avo” and drinkable coffee. Then it was off on our primary mission for the day – a little rainy excursion to the Osaka Culturarium – which is home to large theatre. Not because we were in need of culture. No our culture cups were full – we were going because the building was a striking example of the work of famous Japanese architect Tadao Ando. He’s certainly done some beautiful things with concrete – perfect for a grey wet day.
We took the train down to the Tempozan waterfront and at first I couldn’t understand why there were so many families with kids joining us. Turns out that Tempozan is also the home of the Osaka aquarium and the jumping off point for Universal Studios theme park (which is on an island in the bay). I felt a bit sorry for the parents – a theme park in the pouring rain sounds like a drag.
On the way over the wind caught Jules’ umbrella turning it inside out and shredding it completely. Only took a couple of seconds. Osaka 1, gaijin 0.
Anyway no one was heading to the Culturarium except us. It was an incredible building from the outside – and it was completely dead inside. A large empty restaurant and a massive gift shop staffed by bored attendants who were desperate to interact – anything to pass the time I guess. Anyway we played along, allowing one of the staff to set us up in front of some parasol umbrella things while he took photos. It was a laugh. We stopped laughing when we got outside to find someone had nicked our remaining intact umbrella. So strange. There was literally no one around. All that was left in the umbrella rack, sitting there all alone, was Jules’ destroyed bundle of sticks and plastic. Osaka 2, gaijin 0.
At that point we decided to go somewhere dry, somewhere undercover. What we needed was a massive shopping complex. And fortunately Osaka has lots of them. We spent a chunk of the afternoon in Grand Front Osaka (its back was grand as well), eating lunch at Muji cafe (so calming) and checking out the LV bags and Rolex watches. Grand Front Osaka is attached to the massive and very impressive Osaka train station so we strolled around there as well.
The rain eased a little so we took the opportunity to browse the many many vintage clothing stores in the Shinsaibashi area before stopping off at Umineko – a teeny tiny craft beer bar – room for maybe 6 people – standing only. Loved it.
Dinner was very Japanese. Order and pay at the entrance to the restaurant using a touch screen. Take a seat and marvel at the delish stuff they bring out for you to consume. In my case, grilled mackerel, miso soup, rice, salad, pickles, tofu. Perfect.
How it started. Striding out confidently in search of coffee.
Coffee sorted – along with what we might call a jaffle. But at the “Melbourne Cafe” they call it a toastie. Just semantics. The cafe even had a big photo of a Melbourne graffiti laneway proudly on display.
On the mean streets of Osaka.
The Osaka Culturarium at Tempozan. Is culturarium even a word? Amazing building designed by famed Japanese architect Tadao Ando.
Down on the waterfront at Tempozan. Osaka gets moody.
Jules in front of the Osaka Aquarium moments before a freak gust of wind completely destroyed her umbrella.
More culturarium.
In the completely empty shop inside the Culturarium. One of the bored staff absolutely cajoled us into having our picture taken. Lots of umbrellas inside – meanwhile outside someone was nicking our remaining one.
Lunch at Muji. Again. It’s calm, quiet and organic.
The absolutely stunning interior of Osaka Station. OK so maybe I got carried away with the black and white.
More trains and stuff. Osaka station.
There’s some green in this one. Interior, Osaka Station. Meanwhile it was bucketing down outside.
Deep underground. Changing trains in the subway somewhere in Osaka. Don’t ask me where.
A splash of colour. Roller door in Dotonbori.
Nine delicious local craft beers on tap. Late arvo at Umineko standing bar in Chuo Ward.
Dinner down the street. Cheap, fresh and super tasty. That’s grilled mackerel.
Last black and white pic I promise. The view from our hotel balcony. Osaka.
We woke a little hazy as a result of the previous night’s sake sesh. No regrets though. Today we say goodbye to Fukuoka on the island of Kyushu and make the jump back over to Honshu for a couple of days in Japan’s second biggest city Osaka.
We packed up quickly, stopping off for a tasty avocado toasty and coffee at Blue Bottle Coffee. We had a 10:30 Shinkansen to catch from Hakata (Fukuoka’s main station) to Osaka so it was a bit of a rush, but we made it. Only to find that I had misread the ticket and we were an hour early. Idiot gaijin. No matter, as it turned out we managed to get on an early train and made it to Osaka ahead of my tightly planned schedule.
As we dragged our overstuffed bags up and out of the station to our accommodation (the mysteriously named FDS Aura) we instantly noticed how much more humid Osaka was. It wasn’t long before we were sweating and red faced like all the other visiting gaijin.
We dumped our stuff and embarked on what would accidentally become a massive sweaty walking expedition. It took us down Shinsaibashi-Suji – 600 metre linear covered shopping strip with every conceivable high and low end chain store known to humanity. And speaking of humanity – the strip was packed with both Japanese and Chinese shoppers all looking for the latest Onitsuka Tiger shoes etc. There were thousands upon thousands of people. The photos just couldn’t capture the near hysterical vibe. Squeezing down the strip was fun for a while but we soon tired of it and detoured for somewhere more our speed. Which in this case was the super cool Osaka record store Flake Records. I’d been there the one other time we were in Osaka and it was still an excellent store – and the owner was still standoffish and stony faced. Another person in a record store that was immune to my enthusiasm. Oh well I bought some stuff anyway.
Later we found ourselves in a mega hipster area once more. This time it was Osaka’s Orange Street. Cool cats. Cool bars. Cool restaurants. Cool shops. Uncool tourists with mouths open.
From there we looped around back through the main shopping area. Stopped off at Sankaku Park (aka Triangle Park) for some Takoyaki and a beer. It’s a dodgy place. Lots of semi drunk peeps and emo teenagers. Also the first place in Japan where I have seen actual litter. Just lying there. On the actual ground! Strangely, it was only 100 metres or so to the Big Step Shopping Mall – where yet another squeaky clean boy band were performing synchronised dance moves and harmony vocals for a squadron of adoring preteens.
By the time we staggered back to our accommodation hours had passed and we were both in Osaka overload. We needed somewhere decent and calm to eat, drink and recharge. Thank Christ we found it. Just down the street. Kyo Chabana. It was a kind of okonomyaki (Japanese savoury pancake) place where they cook in front of you on a huge flat grill plate. But they had their own twist. They added grilled tomato on top of the pancake along with a bunch of seafood. That’s not all, they also did fried yakisoba noodles on the grill – with avocado! And delicious salads, cold beers and delicious highballs. We were fully restored. Arigato Kyo Chabana.
Early morning. The sun making a feeble attempt to push through the Fukuoka drizzle. I was feeling a little feeble myself.
The Fukuokan version of avo on toast for Breakfast at Blue Bottle Coffee. I was starting to feel human once more.
Back in the island of Honshu. The industrial landscapes of Fukuyama out the window of the Shinkansen.
Made it!
Our room at the FDS Aura. Western style and fancier than we were expecting. We messed it up pretty quickly.
Back in the big smoke. The tide of humanity on Shinsaibashi-Suji in Osaka. All interested in just one thing – shopping.
Osaka. Understated and tasteful as ever.
The famous Glico running man sign in the canal at Dotonburi. Only he doesn’t run anymore. No longer an animated neon sign – just a dude in short shorts frozen forever.
Sankaku Park. Really just a triangle of concrete in the middle of shopping crazy town. A place for sketchy people to do sketchy things. Like us – we drank beer. So did lots of others.
Quality arvo snacks. Takoyaki and a nice cold beer in the square at Sankaku Park, Osaka.
Yet another boy band perform for their adoring fans. Big Step shopping centre Osaka.
Lotus flower. In a temple garden down the street.
The start of a cracking dinner at Kyo Chobana. Tomato okonomyaki, char grilled edamame, noodles, avocado salad etc.
Well what a day of contrasts. From conspicuous capitalist consumption, to Buddhist frogs, all in the space of a couple of hours. Fukuoka is nothing if not constantly confounding.
After breakfast and another late start, we cruised the neighbourhood in search of coffee. Along the way we stumbled across a queue forming outside the Fukuoka branch of super cool Japanese clothing label Human Made. And we love queues – I especially love a good queue where everyone obeys the rules of queueing etiquette. I love it almost as much as the Japanese. So we joined the queue – the only gaijin there (that’s how ahead of the curve we are). And in no time at all we were visiting the promised land. Obviously we bought something (a t-shirt if you’re interested) You don’t wanna queue up for nothing (that’s how they get you).
After finally finding coffee, we decided to head out to Nyoirinji Temple, which is a solid 30 minute train ride out of Fukuoka. I’d read about the wind chime festival that was happening there at the moment. Here is what website Fukuoka Now says about it:
“Nyoirinji Temple, affectionately known as “Kaeru Temple,” is adorned with over 10,000 frog items throughout its grounds. Each summer, the temple hosts the “Wind Chime Festival,” where visitors pray for a safe season and dedicate wind chimes. The sight of thousands of wind chimes swaying in the breeze and their soothing melodies are hallmarks of the festival. Visitors can also write their wishes on tanzaku strips attached to the wind chimes and dedicate them for ¥500 each.”
A frog temple with wind chimes! Who doesn’t wanna see/hear that? So off we popped on the train followed by a lengthy walk. Was it worth it? 100%. Hundreds of frogs, lying frogs, flying frogs, quadruple decker frogs, everywhere across the temple site. And the there were the wind chimes – also hundreds of them – little glass ball shaped bells with colourful prayer tags attached to each one. When the wind blew gently, it was a charming tinklerama. We loved it.
Afterwards it was back in to Fukuoka and over the “Acros Fukuoka” – which is a giant stepped garden built over the top of a massive classical concert hall. It was – well – look at the pics you’ll get the idea. Unfortunately we weren’t allowed to climb to the top of the garden where there is a viewing platform. This was closed due to the rain (there was no rain really – just a few tiny sprinkles). It seems the man pops up and ruins the fun no matter what country you’re in.
For dinner that night we meandered randomly around Tenjin before choosing a local “standing bar” – which is exactly what it sounds like. A stand up bar with stacks of tasty snacks like takoyaki (octopus balls) and karaage chicken. We ate the snacks and drank the drinks – more of the latter than the former. The sake was delicious and we were powerless to resist. Done!
Money talks (and squawks). Inside the Fukuoka branch of uber hip Japanese clothing label Human Made. Japanese hipsters go mad for this stuff and, well, we got swept up in it.
Frog and pillock. At the entrance to Nyoirinji Temple.
Jules amongst the wind chimes at Nyoirinji Temple. Completely charming, and so were the wind chimes.
Umbrellas and incense.
Flying frog. Nyoirinji Temple.
Vermillion and green. Nyoirinji Temple.
Hygiene is critical. Nyoirinji Temple.
Absolutely no idea what’s going on here.
Froggy mega stack. Nyoirinji Temple.
Fukuoka Civic Centre. Relax, that’s astroturf.
Acros Fukuoka. A massive multi tiered garden. Normally open so that you can walk to the top through the “forest”. Closed of course due to the risks associated with minor relentless drizzle.
Interior Acros Fukuoka. Home to a massive classical peformance space. Kinda like the Federation Concert Hall but with less dodgy cladding.
Dinner venue. A standing bar in Tenjin. No English menu. No English spoken. No clue what we were doing but the staff were patient. Don’t know the name of the bar. Maybe it didn’t have one, but the sake was next level. Dunno what that was called either – but it had a whale on the label if that helps.
Triple parked. I will regret this tomorrow.
Blueberry soft serve thing on the way home. Yes it was raining. Again.
Miraculously the rain had stopped overnight and although it was overcast and looked threatening the rain stayed away. I took that as a sign and went out for an early Friday morning run. I headed straight down to the Fukuoka waterfront, expecting tree lined promenades, tasteful cafes and hip hotels. That’s not what I found. The Fukuoka waterfront is an industrial working port – so they’re a long way from capitalising on its tourist potential – and maybe that’s not a bad thing. Anyway I picked up a couple of coffees on the way back and the look on Jules’ face when I arrived back with a couple of double shot oat lattes saved it from being a wasted trip.
Speaking of jogging – I have noticed that Japanese men are masters of what I have started calling “demonstrative jogging”. When I run I do my very best to make it look like I’m doing it easy – even if my chest is on fire and I can’t catch my breath. Not so Japanese men joggers. It seems that the more groaning, huffing and puffing they make, the better. It’s almost comical (well actually I think it is comical) and quite like the run didn’t happen if no one else hears about it. Maybe it’s the same principle that the Japanese apply to eating noodles – you must slurp loudly to show you are enjoying them.
Today’s primary destination was the Fukuoka Art Museum. We’d heard about a solo exhibition there by a local artist made good. His name is Kyne and he’s famous for his stripped back, almost minimalist (and very saleable) paintings and prints of mainly Japanese women. To get there we decided to walk through Fukuoka’s Ohori park, which contains a large lake which used to be a moat and the remnants of Fukuoka Castle. It was a lovely walk especially in the absence of any rain and when we got to the museum we were delighted. It was built in 1972 and is a gloriously intact representation of that time.
Anyway after the usual cautions from staff about photos, where you can and can’t walk, why you need to keep your voice down etc we made it into the Kyne exhibition. His work is instantly accessible and I thoroughly enjoyed the show. The museum’s contemporary collection also contains some other lovely work including stuff by Miro which I loved.
After lunch in the cafe (omurice again – I’m addicted), we decided to take a walk around the lake in Ohuri Park. Well! We were not prepared for what a total teen scene it was. The photos below tell the story but never before have I seen so many preening immaculately made up teenagers. And not just girls – there were even some boys with juggalo makeup on (look it up) all wandering through the “natural environment” taking selfies etc. And then there was the flirting. You could almost smell the hormones.
Ice cream was the only antidote to all that teenage intensity. So we sampled some and followed that up with a bit of vintage clothes shopping back in the hipster Tenjin area. The vintage clothing thing is also huge in Fukuoka. I guess what differentiates the Japanese vintage clothing thing from Australia is how carefully curated and categorised each store is. Hundreds of Hawaiian shirts all grouped by colour, trainers grouped by brand and era etc. It gladdens my Virgo heart and makes finding stuff easy – and find stuff we did.
We capped off the night with dinner at Bangkok-ya, a tiny Thai style place literally 50 metres from our AirBnB. Only one dish on the menu (choice is overrated) and the food was lovely. So was the owner, a Japanese guy with a Thailand obsession. A very short walk home. Day done.
Morning run shot. Fukuoka port area.
Walking through Ohori Park on the way to the Fukuoka Museum of Modern Art.
Interior shot of the gorgeous retro Fukuoka Museum of Modern Art. Check the copper light fittings.
One of the super cool works at the Kyne solo exhibition. Fukuoka Museum of Modern Art.
And speaking of super cool.
More Kyne.
You can’t tell from this photo – but this little stand of trees at Ohori Park is alive with overdressed teenagers taking fashion photos and pouting selfies.
Impromptu teenage makeup session on the bridge at Ohori Park. Wish I could have moved closer but that would have been sketchy.
Gaijins infuriating the local teenagers by hogging a prime photo spot to stage their own fashion photo. Ohori Park Fukuoka.
Afternoon snack. Chocolate hazelnut ice cream and blueberry yoghurt. Not bad.
Actually I started my used clothing life decades ago – but I’m showing my age. The vintage clothing market is completely massive throughout Japan.
Delicious Thai style chicken and rice from “Bangkok-ya” across the road from our accommodation. Coriander, fresh chilli, garlic! It started raining (again) but we were snug and dry under our little awning.
Before we get into anything else about this day – our first full day in Fukuoka – let me make one thing clear. It was wet. It rained non-stop all day. And I’m not talking about your half hearted namby pamby Hobart drizzle. I’m talking about proper bucketing down rain – all day. OK that’s the context sorted.
We got going late, delayed by tedious things like washing and looking in horror at our dwindling bank balance. No idea how that happened. Anyway, eventually we headed out into the deluge and made it to Blue Bottle Coffee (another branch of the excellent cafe we went to in Tokyo) for coffees (obviously) and a cheeky bikkie.
Then we subwayed it across town. Because it was so wet, the plan was to head over to a few shopping malls – one from the 1950s called Kawabata shopping arcade and the other a massive new behemoth called Canal City. Both are allegedly tourist attractions but to be honest they were both duds. Canal city was being extensively renovated and Kawabata was just… well… old and sad. The only saving grace was a delicious Ramen Noodle lunch at Canal City (Fukuoka is supposedly the birthplace of ramen – although the Chinese might dispute that). The top floor of Canal City is taken up by about a dozen separate ramen shops – collectively and hilariously it’s called Ramen Stadium. The crowd went wild.
After a break back at the AirBnB to dry off. We braved the torrential rain once more in search of dinner. And if some random record shopping happened along the way then so be it. We set our sights on a place that supposedly does some of Fukuoka’s best sushi called Hyotan Sushi. No bookings, queue up (in the rain) and wait until a space comes up. We did all that and ended up seated on the tatami floor in the trad Japanese style (there was no room at the sushi bar). By the time we got in, they were getting near closing time so we order in a rush without completely understanding what we were ordering. Which ended up fine actually – two platters of incredible fresh sushi. The only issue was that my platter had a piece of abalone (or some other unusual type of shellfish) sushi on it. I’m from Hobart so usually I’m fine with abalone etc – but when they served it, one of the dudes told me to squeeze some lemon on it. I did as I was told and was horrified to see it writhe and contort. It was still alive. Gulp. My middle class Anglo white boy sensitivities were challenged. I was faced with a conundrum. Did I eat it like a local or tuck it away under my chopstick wrapper and hope nobody would notice ? In the end I’m embarrassed to say I did both. With Jules urging me on I gave it a bit of a chomp. The texture was very firm and rubbery. That was enough for me. Out it came to be tucked away discreetly on my otherwise empty platter.
And with that we slunk off into the rain and home to our little apartment for a calming reassuringly familiar cup of chamomile tea.
A little homemade brekky in the world’s tiniest kitchen.
Blue Bottle Coffee Fukuoka. A spacious oasis of calm (with outstanding coffee) – nice and dry as well.
Coffee porn.
At our local subway station Tenjin-Minami. About thirty seconds earlier it was packed. Everyone got on the train except us. That’s OK we’re on holidays.
Ramen lunch at “Ramen Stadium” in Canal City Fukuoka.
Selfie on the rainy canal. We’re only happy when it rains.
Soggy hipster. Tenjin Fukuoka.
Soggy tourists.
Did I mention it was wet?
Dinner at Hyotan Sushi. This place was the real deal.
flyeelookee 