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Showing posts from 2006
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A potter in the mountains Last day of the new year, and not one I will look back on with completely unmixed affection, though there have been some excellent parts too, such as my holiday in Guernsey with my family... And this trip to Japan is an excellent way to end it. Today we took Jennifer off to the shinkansen station in Kakegawa as she is returning to Hong Kong. After we said goodbye to Jennifer (who I always think of as Jen-i-fah wa ? or where`s Jennifer? a refrain of Hiroko's when we were travelling) we sloped off for some more food. This time I tried a Japanese curry with udon noodles. Not so wild about this meal as some of the others. And we ate in a restaurant which made me feel like Gulliver in Lilliput as the space was so cramped, and barging around makes the locals snicker. Then up to Kakegawa castle which was closed, but we had a really lovely view there over town and the mountains around. We took a scenic drive back home, through the hills and got slightly lost. How
A party in Makinohara A slightly sluggish start to the day. Managed to avoid going to the onsen (baths) again, with the ladies, but I have now run out of excuses and will have to waddle forth among the petite and slim Japanese like a Sumo any day now. For some reason had an upset stomach this morning but this was fixed by a bowl of udon noodles in a delicious soupy broth. We went to Hiroko `s favourite noodle place nearby, not flashy but really tasty grub. Home again after a spot of food shopping, and as Hiroko began her preparations for a party this evening, Toby Romy and me sloped off for a walk. Warm sunny weather during the day here, unlike the very chilly nights. Came across a couple of local temples and discovered a crystal clear pond full of beautiful koi . Yet another nap, and Toby woke me up to join the gathering party. About ten of Hiroko `s friends including Mr Sizuki from last night, this time with Mrs Sizuki , and some other gents. Got talking to one very nice retired
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Of snow and eel intestines My cold somewhat abated, I got up just before dawn and opened the curtains, then climbed back into bed to watch the falling snow. Kyoto is bordered on three sides with mountains and gets very wintery. Met Toby Romy and Hiroko and we set off in the cold to a nearby Starbucks which overlooked the snowy river, and was a wonderful place to enjoy hot cofee. Toby busy saying it was the world`s best Starbucks and he is probably right. Thus fortified we went back to the hotel to pack. Popped out then to a particularly lovely shop to look again at its prints and brushes and expensive pottery. Then after settling-up at the hotel, we taxied to our final temple. Sanjusangen-do was unheated and freezing. Inside was a structure like a long wooden football terrace, with 1000 life size sculptures of the Buddhist deity called Kannon. They flank one enormous seated deity. Spaced between them are a 28 other deities representing thunder, wind and other forces of nature. The scul
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A climb up monkey mountain Somewhat worse for wear this morning - a hangover, a gathering cold and jetlag all making themselves felt. Undeterred I was up with the lark and Toby and Romy and I went off for more coffee and a walk through the pine tree planted gardens of the old imperial palace. We also stopped off at the same early morning coffee shop, Toby kicking me in the shins because I was staring at a man on a nearby table openly reading soft porn first thing in the morning. Felt full of ideas about how to re-engineer my working life this morning and Toby and Romy were inspiring me. Back to the hotel and collected Hiroko (chuckling guiltily about how rough around the edges we felt) and met Jennifer. Another taxi ride to the Golden Temple. Literally a golden temple that gleamed across a lake that could have been designed by Roger Dean with tiny islands and strategically placed rocks that seemed to be afloat in the water. At this temple Romy went for her third attempt at getting a sa
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Four windows in Kyoto Below maneki neko lucky cats, fine books, and two arty shots: a portentous "reflections on Japan" self portrait, and an arty, rather zen shot representing the aching void at the heart of human experience.
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A day of wonders Woke in the middle of the night and wrote a poem, then up again at 6 to catch up on my diary, which is eventually making its way to this blog when I get the opportunity. Set off out into Kyoto with Toby and Romy early. Lovely sunny morning. The hotel is near a river and it looked at times like a woodblock print because of all the birds seeming like emblems of Japan. There were big black crows, snow white cranes standing next to dignified herons, black snakey necked cormorants. And scooting about on the water were the odd familiar mallard. Ghosting about above were hawks of some description which our taxi driver said had come to feed on rubbish. Kyoto is a lovely city. We threaded through backstreets which reminded me faintly of Paris until we found a coffee shop run by a very pleasant lady, and dominated by a big stuffed seabass . We returned to the hotel, met up with Hiroko and Jennifer and set off for the historic part of town. The loveliness of Kyoto had not prepa
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Kyoto Karaoke Below charming silver-haired fox of a gentleman who kept calling me my boy, a blurry singer, Hiroko duetting with the s-h f, the charming barmaid posing for the camera.
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At Kiyomizu Dera Below up the hill to the temple. The gateway, the pagoda, Romy having recieved a bad fortune leaves it tied in the temple, a passerby encounters a dragon, the taking the purifying waters from the clear springs.
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A night in Kyoto Having to type this hurriedly in the foyer of the Kyoto Hotel Okura. A night of terrible dreams with the constant theme of things getting out of control. Slugged about this morning till Hiroko prompted us to start our journey to Kyoto. She had been cooking in the night and we set off armed with a variety of edible delights for our journey. Drove to the shinkansen station sitting in the front next to Hiroko. She is a fascinating person, last night she showed me a copy of her book of essays called "I am the D51" which is the name of a railway engine and a reference in part to her travelling the world when she was in her twenties in the 1960s. Onto the shinkansen and rifled south through the eastern coastal plain. Looking out eastwards from the train there is flatness - heavily populated with scraps everywhere of agriculture. To the west there is a long line of pristine rain blurred mountains. Then through Nagoya, a big treeless, packed-looking city. Spent mos
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Kanpai Christmas Slept fairly heavily and well on my futon, getting up at around seven. Hiroko was up and Romy off walking one of the dogs. Sitting companionably around the kotatsu (which squeaks with hiding cats when you put your feet under it) we watched some TV. Some mentions of Melly Ch`istmas! here and there among TV articles about a local woman jazz singers dying of cancer, with the scowly host in tears in a box in the corner of the screen, and the dangers of wheels coming loose from trucks and hitting houses. Meanwhile Hiroko gave me tea until I could speak. Soon joined by Toby and Romy and Jennifer. And milling around with us and the five pets were a series of visitors. My favourite was an older lady in her 70s bursting with vigour and clutching big spilling bags of satsumas. Like a laughing whirlwind. Another, a nice youngish guy, appeared late at night when only me and Hiroko were about, and showed us some magic tricks. Between tricks he told Hiroko about how he had attemp
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Touchdown in Japan Set off at the crack of dawn from Edgware. The journey to Heathrow very simple but the airport itself a wretched and Dantesque spectacle. Queues hundreds of people long, of stressed out, crying and anxious people desperately trying to get home or away for Christmas. Fortunately, having checked in online, I managed to battle through in only 45 minutes. On the other side of security things much calmer and I did a spot of shopping, and settled into the bar drinking a brace of stiff pre-flight gin and tonics, and having a few last minute chats on my mobile. Boarding was only delayed by twenty minutes. Curiously the G&Ts had worked a powerful magic, and I felt curiously chilled out. I had booked premium economy this time and the extra leg room suddenly took away the horror of claustrophobia. Curiously I had what was almost an enjoyable flight after being so stressed about it for weeks. Dozing a fair bit. I pulled open the window at one point and as I did so I saw
Pea soup and venison stew Fog update - according to the BA website it looks like my flight to Japan will be happening tomorrow. My flight is BA0005. I have reserved my window seat in advance and it has bags of legroom. For it is a fact that if I stare anxiously out of the window, wringing my hands and muttering prayers under my breath, this is the main contributor to the safety of all on board. Not that they thank you for it, especially the ones sitting next to you. I have Lord of the Rings on my iPod and loads of drugs so all should be well. Typically, this is the most protracted amount of fog I have ever experienced. Brings to mind London's old pea soupers in which it was impossible to see a pickpocket held in front of your face. Those were the early industrial days where smoking chimneys turned London's fog into a dense noxious smog. This inspired Monet in his painting of the Houses of Parliament, not to mention Jack the Ripper. Popped up the road to give young Klaudia and
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The Burning of the Clocks The fog thing now getting beyond a joke. A thick soup of it today that starts just a bit inland from Brighton, and my flight just two days away. Will I escape? Last day at work, mercifully. Worked quite hard in the morning and then straight home for a microsleep . I feel shattered. Then off to the Burning of the Clocks with Anton. I absolutely loved this. We huddled in a few bars near the seafront and then went down to the beach, to see a procession of mad drummers and hundreds of lanterns some of them in amazing dragon, octopus and people shapes with clocks on them. It is the darkest day and this is a new Brighton pagan tradition. The clocks were ultimately burnt on a big pyre after a symbolic sun was set on fire against the backdrop of the dark winter sea. Really excellent. And there were thousands there, and a great atmosphere too. The event was rounded off by some truly spectacular fireworks. Loved the symbolism of it too. The year turning and a burning s
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Work is almost at an end Off to the quack this morning to score drugs for my plane journey. I am taking no chances. Not that there seems much prospect of flying at the moment. Southern England is covered in dense fog. Above fog in the graveyard near my work. Why am I always flying when I hate it? But being in Japan is going to be excellent so it is worth paying the terrible ferryman to get there. Greeted when finally at work by the Gnome back from having a cold saying that we'd won the pitch I travelled up to Bradford for. Was fairly amazed at this. But it does mean that for a short stretch me and the Gnome are officially big and clever. Later, writing my pitch blog for work, I had to stop myself drifting into an overblown description of fog as a homage to Dickens's Bleak House . Lots of pesky work to clear up this morning then off to the Stonemason's with the Gnome where we joined a Christmas luncheon. The French Bloke was there and we fell to the task of celebrating wit
A vision in Villiers Street Up late again feeling a bit groggy. A night of significant seeming dreams. In one I was taking a small toddler, a thought daughter, to the house in Guernsey where I lived as a child. I took her into it, knowing the house to be haunted, and was expecting at any moment something frightening to happen, but nothing did. When I woke up I had a strong sense of a new start. It felt good. Off to work, the train tunnelling through thick fog. Work still busy but not too bad... Snuck off at lunchtime and met the French Bloke for a quick and cheery beer which was excellent. I can't remember the last time we went for a beer. After work I went into Soho to meet the usual bunch of ex-colleagues in the Crown and Two Chairman pub, and then off to eat at the Delhi Brasserie. Usual mixture of industry gossip (this is the closest thing I get to networking) and stories -- Marcella talking about her recent trip to Morocco for example. There were six of us tonight: young James
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A pain free Monday Snuffly this morning, and a bit jaded after a lively night in with Janet and Ken. That Armagnac did for me I think. Was late, but bolshy and unapologetic so nobody questioned me, and damn right too. Listening to an album I bought the yesterday called Be by Common. Been nodding my head to it all day with what I hope is a hip sort of knowing look on my face, especially to a track called Love is which has an excellent laid back groove. Home early for once. Bumped into Reuben at Brighton Station. Home and looking forward to a long and relaxing shower. Got an email from Romy at work with photos from Deviation Road, from last weekend. Here's what Winter is supposed to look like...
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Reload Snuffling a bit on Saturday morning... slept in for hours. Chilled out completely with little blogworthy, apart from a funny skype conversation with another new friend in Florida called Sarah. Almost everyone I meet these days is called Sarah for some reason. Even the men. Normally I'd prefer to plunge red hot pokers into my eyes than go Christmas shopping, but in Brighton on Sunday I felt consumed by a joie de vivre and feelings of tremendous freedom. I managed to get everything I needed, including lots of glasses as in the past couple of months I have recreationally smashed through loads of them. (This morning it was the turn of the cafetiere.) In the evening Janet and Ken came by, and we had a lovely convivial evening. Enjoyed cooking and even shopping for it. They guinea pigged my experimental butternut and leek soup and survived. Lots of chat, and a fair amount of wine drunk. Topped off the night with the excellent Armagnac Bob gave me the other night. Below... A photo
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There are ghosts on the streets of London In the dark slouched like a rough beast to Brighton Station at 5:55am. Pointed my face into the newspaper and it was only about 50 minutes later, when the train reached the outskirts of London did I realise I hadn't actually read any of it. Fortunately a fairly direct journey to Kings Cross where I needed to meet my colleagues. Met the three grey-faced agency blokes there and we all drank from paper coffee cups and mumbled at small overpriced baguettes till our train was ready to board. Journey to Yorkshire, Bradford via Leeds. The further north we went, the more the low clouds full of fine soaking rain filled the sky. The four of us running through the presentation, and generally laughing and joking. It's like when I used to play rugby... Slightly nervous, but suddenly you realise that you quite like the guys you work with and that, compared to the opposition, they were great. The pitch itself, which was 2 hours of ...blah blah have yo