Sidebar..."The Barbershop"...

Well, I found a couple of intersting things today. The first, I was told by the people in our office about Japanese strip clubs, hostess bars, etc. What are they called in Japan? "Pink" bars. I wonder what that means?

As for the barbershop, well, the name says it all..."QB House". I don't think it was started by retirees of the NFL.

Just a short cab ride...

So, I finish up my work in the Yokohama/Zama area and hop the bus for Tokyo-Haneda airport. Haneda, it seems, services mainly domestic flights. I've got an early flight on Friday so an agent in our office booked me a hotel for the night near the airport. She asks if it's ok that I have to take a taxi from the airport, once the shuttle drops me off, to the hotel. Sure...

I'm on the bus and as we get close to Haneda is what appears to be a port of entry for ships. The highway we're on crosses a couple of bridges that make the Golden Gate look like a rope bridge. The first in line is a suspension bridge supported by a couple of GIGANTIC H shaped towers. Very modern looking, of course. About 1/4 or 1/2 mile further is another suspension bridge. This one is supported by a couple of towers shaped like upside down V's. The support cables are attached at the median instead of the traditional style where they connect to each side of the roadway. Again, very modern looking. The Japanese don't screw around with their suspension bridges.

So, we get to the airport, stop at my terminal and I get off the bus. Now, I just have to find the arrivals area so I can grab a taxi. I wander around a little and find a sign for the taxi stand. I head over and the attendants asks where I'm going. "Pan Pacific Hotel," I say. He repeats it, says ok, and I load my gear into the taxi. The driver asks where to and I tell him. He clearly doesn't understand. I repeat it a few times, as does he, and then he gets out to ask the attendant. Now, the attendant is asking me where I'm going. I repeat it and now they want the address. I get out, dig my paperwork out of my bag in the trunk and show it to him. Turns out, this is no cab ride...my hotel is IN THE AIRPORT.

I check-in and the place is pretty nice. As is customary in a Japanese hotel, the bellman humps my bag up to the room and rushes out as quickly as he can. Since there is virtually no situation in Japan that requires a tip or, in fact, where a tip would be accepted, I assume he doesn't want that conversation to take place.

After a long hard day, it's time for dinner. Only one restaurant in the hotel and it's empty. So, I decide to look around the terminal. There's about 4 or 5 floor "marketplace" in the hotel so I check it out. Noodles sound good. Plus, sushi in the airport appears to be very expensive. So, I look for a noodle shop. I find one of the traditional counter-style places but it's jammed up. So, I keep walking. I find a couple that don't look like what I'm after. Finally, I find one that is half counter half table seating. I check out some of the bowls and decide I'll give it a shot.

The host takes me the bar and gives me a seat. I sit down and look for a menu. There it is. Hmmm...that's peculiar...no English. Well, "when in Rome"...for those of you who know that line. I look to my left and to my right. I choose the least offenseive bowl of noodles and point it out to the waiter. Easy. About 2 minutes later here comes my soup. Ramen noodles, broth, a sliver of meat, some unidentifiable cut stuff, and a bunch of onion. And, one more thing the Japanese don't screw around with...this soup is so hot it's vaporizing in front of me. Well, the soup was good...too bad I don't know what it was...and I'm short a few layers of tissue.

I should have some good stories this weekend as I'm heading up North to a remote part of the country. I'll be back...

And the crowd gathers...

Well, humped a train and a couple of offices today...I think "hump" is the words the GIs would use. Work was the usual for a remote site, so nothing to report. After getting back to the hotel I learned that, apparently, we all look alike. I signed up for wireless access in the hotel when I checked in. But, last night it didn't work. So, I went to the front desk and explained the situation and asked if there was a bar in the hotel or somewhere similar where I could do my work. The answer was an apologetic no but the guy brought me a wireless network extender. Basically, you wire your PC to it and it does the talking over the wireless network for you.

I headed back up to my room and it worked. So, I took care of some things and headed out for dinner. I decided to find a "real" sushi bar so I stopped by the front desk. Before asking if there was a sushi restaurant nearby, I thanked the guy who gave me teh wireless extender. He looked at me like I had 3 heads. So, I explained to him how he had given me the device and that it worked. I said thanks again, and he talked to his co-worker in Japanese for about 5 minutes before they both stopped and began staring at me. Seems to happen everytime the hotel staff doesn't understand what I'm saying so I'm getting used to it. Next, I ask for a sushi bar and it turns out there is one in the department store on the other side of the train station. Both the department store and my hotel are attached to the station so I head out.

Now that I'm writing this, I'm not sure who all look alike. Do they all look alike and the dude behind the counter wasn't the dude who gave me the extender or do we all look alike and he didn't recognize me? I'm not really sure...and don't care...but it is an interesting question.

So, I get to the sushi bar. There are a couple of people in the area where there are tables, but I'm the sole occupant of the sushi bar. I sit down and the waitress brings me a drink menu...in Japanese. Well, I open it up as if I'm looking for something special and realize that it has no value to me. So, I say, "I can't even read this." Yep, out loud. The lady understands...or at least gathers that I can't read Japanese...and says a bunch of stuff. So, I just ask for a beer. That's easy enough so we then just have to negotiate bottle or draft. I get a bottle and I'm all set.

Now for ordering. Most people order "set menu" sushi, it seems. Set price for a variety of pieces. Being selective, as I am, I say no. Oddly enough, we both understand this conversation...which is happening in 2 languages. So, I just tell the sushi dude that I want maguro (tuna). He opens a couple of boxes and asks which I want. One is toro (fatty tuna) and one is regular tuna. I get a couple of each. Now, he and his people start trying to talk to me. I have no clue...nor do they. So, I just keep ordering and eating. I ask if the maguro is blue fin tuna or hon maguro. For about the millionth time on this trip, I again have 3 eyes. So, a 10 minute "discussion" takes place about what I've said. Finally, the dude's co-worker gets it and says something like, "Ahhhhh...HAH maguro?!?" Or, I think that's what he said. I say yes. Hah is close to han. He says that's what I'm eating so I'm happy. I think it actually was blue fin, but who knows. It was good so the point is moot, I guess.

I eat a bunch more and want some variety. So, I ask for a spicy tuna roll. From my experience at the other places, this doesn't exist. But, I wanted to ask to be sure. Now, he wants to make it for me. So, I explain that it's tuna mixed with a little mayo and some pepper. By this time, there are no less than 5 but probably more like 8, people standing around. Some watching like it's a shuttle launch or NASCAR wreck and some actually trying to figure out what the hell I'm talking about. I actually tried to get them to find some Sriracha sauce to add to help me ignore the mayo. Well, "sauce" is very close to the Japanese word for Soy. So, the dude disappears like they have it and comes back with 2 bottles...soy sauce and some red substance. Well, since Im an American I quickly realize he's secured some ketchup for my spicy tuna roll. At this point, I start laughing and the whole place is now a comedy club. I settle for mayo and cayenne. Ketchup would have imporeved it, unfortunatley, but I told him it was delicious since he went to the trouble of making it for me. This paid off, too, as I got a gift from the chef. The waitress brought over a package of sheets of seaweed that they use to make rolls. No big deal, but the fact that I got a gift from some dude who I couldn't talk to was pretty cool. Plus, it will get me brownie points when I get home since it comes with a nice story and Jati LOVES to eat sheets of seaweed. I know, that makes me chuckle too but it's true.

I can't wait to see what happens next...

Whitey in America...errrrrrrrrrr, I mean, Japan....

So, the office manager from our office in Zama comes to Yokosuka to "pick me up". I'm thinking she's driving over to get me. Well, she isn't. She takes the train. Ok, fine. I can ride the train. Another 30 minutes with my gigantic bag. Nope. 30 on one train, get off, hike up about 6 flights of stairs, take another for about 30 minutes, and then change trains again and go for another 15 minutes. Not a huge deal, but it's 85 degrees or so with 90%-ish humidity. And, no elevators and no escalators. I'm agitated.

We get to Zama...or the area, anyway...get off the train and I"m into my hotel. What will I find? Luckily, it's a modern hotel. Small room, but at least I'm back to a heated toilet seat! My room in Yokosuka didn't have that. What are these people, apes?

Again, not to get off on a rant, but the heated toilet seat is da shiznit. It is in-friggin'-credible. For those of you who can, imagine being in a Vegas hotel room that has the AC as low as it will go. It's about 45 degrees in that room. You're sleeping and the urge hits. You get up, head for the john, and sit down. Now, instead of, "FUCK ME!" it's "whoa....fuck....me...that's nice..." The heated toilet seat is the first thing that I've found outside of the US for which I can't find a reason for not having caught on in the US. It is one awesome device.

Rant...continued...
The heated toilet seat in this place is like an F15. Seriously, the toilet seat is like a cockpit...no pun intended. There is a giant control panel protruding from the side of the seat. It has a throttle and all kinds of stuff. There's even a hidden control pad to enable the heated seat…hidden, for safety. I love this stuff. Too bad the cheapest model at the department store here is about $250.

Ok, so it's off to dinner. I walk outside and it's raining. Nice. But, outside the hotel is a shopping plaza. I'm protected from the rain pretty well and there are blocks and blocks of shops. I can't find anything interesting so it's the old standby, sushi. But, I don't see a place. I wander into a multi-shop building but there is no sushi place inside. There is, however, a girl studying and enjoying a Starbuck's coffee. She has to speak English, right? Well, no. I think this is a theme. So, I keep wandering. The rain is pissing me off so I go into the next place whose sign even vaguely resembles sushi. The place does have some sushi, so I order. Chu-toro sashimi, tekka maki, giant gyoza, and 3 skewers of chicken (aka, Yakitori). These skewers deserve some airtime. Two of these are no big deal, just chunks of chicken grilled with teriyaki sauce. But, the third, is the infamous (only infamous to me as I've seen it and never ordered it) minced chicken. What is it? I don't know. Minced? Hmmm... Could be similar to those skewers I saw in the jungles of Thailand labeled “meat”. Well, it's good. Appears to be ground up chicken, I don't know what part, mixed with chives, carrots, and other stuff. Very good, I have to say. So, if you are ever in Japan, screw the chicken meat Yakitori...go straight for the minced chicken Yakitori. I have to mention here that one of the other yakitori choices is port tongue. I didn’t eat that.

Well, I've eaten a ton and had a couple of big bottles of beer and I need to use the toilet. Where is it, I wonder? So, I ask the waitress. Surprisingly, no English. But, she points and I understand. But, the door says "toro" and something else. I don't get it. So, I say...multiple times..."is toro me?" I don't recall the exact discussion but it was basically her explaining something...who knows what at that point...and me not getting it. So, after 5 minutes of “discussion” I walk to "toro". Well, I have no idea what “toro” means but it appears to be a uni-sex bathroom. Chalk one up for the American.

Oh, yes, one last thing....tekka maki. For those of you who don't know what that is, it's basically a layer of seaweed, then rice, then tuna smeared with wasabi all rolled up. When I sat down, I ordered "tekka maki". She nodded, repeated it, and I nodded and repeated it. I got a tekka maki handroll. LIke an ice cream cone...seaweed on the outside like a cone stuffed with tuna, rice, and, in this case, a mint leaf. It sucked. After eating the skewers and stuff, I decided I was still hungry and wanted real tekka maki. So, I ordered it again. This time, using the picture in the menu. Since the second waitress said, “Here you go” when se delivered my food, I figured this she got it and I was all set. Clearly, she speaks English...she's got slang terms down pat.

Well, there is a dish that is 6 tekka maki, and 6 each of the same thing but with eel and egg instead of tuna. I explain to them that I want only the tekka maki, not the rolls with eel or egg. Again, the one waitress seems to understand. They walk off and, as I'm sipping my beer, I realize what I've done. She didn’t understand me at all and I'm getting 18 tekka maki. The six that come with the meal and 6 for each of the other roll varieties that I clearly didn’t want. No shock, that's exactly what arrives.

So, 5 days into the trip you should see the pattern...NO ENGLISH. More to come...

Yokosuka...pronounced, Yo-koh-skuh...

Well, it's Monday morning and time to head ot Yokosuka. I pack up, check out, and head for the train station. Nice...no English to tell you what platform to be on. Is this place for real? So, I ask a dude, "Do you speak English?" His reply, "A little." Well, his English was about 10 times as good as that of Anthony (you know who you are). I don't know why, but the answer is always "no" or "a little"...no matter how fluent one may be. Regardless, he directs me and I'm all set. I get on the train with my gigantic suitcase, small duffle bag and backpack. I stand by the door at first and then move to the middle of the car to take a seat when one opens up. It's at the very next stop that two things happen. 1) I realize that, if my name were Tom (I've changed names to protect the guilty), I would both be in heaven and headed for jail and, 2) that there is no way for me to get this gigantic bag past all of these 13 year old girls in plaid skirts and white shirts before the doors close at my stop. Honestly, I didn't think of number 2 until I had chuckled to myself for a few minutes over number 1. And, of course, thought how my other ethnic friend...not Tony, for those of you who know these people...might enjoy it as well.

Luckily, these schoolgirls were getting off at my stop. No, it was lucky because they cleared out so I could get my gear off the train. Try to keep it clean! I made it to the hotel, checked my baggage (it was only about 8am) and waited for Miyako, our office manager, to come and get me. While I was waiting, I checked out the gift shop in the hotel. Not the most standard of gift shops, I have to say. There seemed to be about 20 different kinds of c-rations, dried foods, bad meal, whatever you would call them. A box...and a heavy box...labelled "New England Clam Chowder". Never seen that one dry. There was also "famous" Yokosuka curry. Okey dokey. I don't get it, but I guess eating out of a box is cool. One c-ration was called "Aegis". I think that's a rocket or something. It had no English writing on it other than the name. I wonder what happens when you put it in the microwave.

When I checked into my room, they didn't have any single rooms left so I got an upgrade. It was actually pretty nice. Even though it was very old...there were stains on the sofa, etc...it was very modern. Modern fixtures, modern lighting, etc. Much better than the low class room I had at the previous place in Shinagawa.

Yokosuka turns out to be more populated and nicer than I expected. Miyako and her 2 daughters and the other lady in our office, Mica, joined me at the shopping mall across the street from my hotel for a sushi dinner. Sushi a' la conveyor belt. Even the conveyor sushi is good. This place rocks. I then did some shopping for gifts for the people that matter...if you actually matter and don't get a gift from this trip, don't be offended, just accept the writing on the wall. These stores are ridiculous. It's like Kroger, Best Buy, Sears, Target, and Nordstrom all rolled into one.

I don't know if I mentioned it, but I'm sort of on a quest to have noodles. When I left our office today, I saw a place called "Ramen"-something. Nice...that's my lunch tomorrow. Well, tomorrow came and went and the damn place was closed. Closed the first and third Tuesday of every month. Are you kidding? Well, f--- it. I walked a few blocks checking things out and then found a little place that appeared to have udon noodles. Indeed, they had curry udon. Yellow curry, pork, and udon noodles. It was fantastic. I didn't eat the pork, it was all fat, but the dish was fabulous. You'll be surprised to find that it took about 30 minutes to order because no one in the place spoke English.

Off to my next destination...

Uni...you know who you are...

Sorry for the break from tradition...albeit a very brief tradition...but I gotta have a theme for each entry. And, "day 1", "day 2", and crap like that isn't very creative.

So, it's Sunday morning. I decided to head out on foot and see what is around the hotel. I'll be back in Tokyo so I can go see the "Statue of Liberty"...I think it is actually a replica of ours but I don't know...and Godzilla (seriously, there's a statue of Godzilla. I...or anyone...would be a fool to visit Tokyo and miss that) later. So, I walk out the front of the hotel, make a left, and away I go. I walk for about 2 miles and see nothing of interest. I'm starving when I leave the hotel, so something to eat is my first priority. I believe I saw one "ramen" place, but there was absolutely no English and one dude inside so I decided to save my noodle experience for later. After the 2 mile mark, I hit a major intersection and decide to turn left. I think this is North, but I really have no clue. I walk in this direction for another mile or so without seeing anything edible...with the exception of KFC. As Dennis Miller would say, “I don't want to get off on a rant here, but…” KFC? Seriously!?!? Asia is loaded with KFC locations. Fine. But, Japan? My myopic mind's idea of Japan deserved way more credit than believing that KFC would be on every corner. Indeed, my first experiences here were impressive and not deserving of KFC. But, there it was...in all it's glory, or lack thereof. I'm not eating KFC...not in Japan. Hell, I barely eat it in the US. Funny thing about that, though, is that when I do eat it in the US it's because Jati (you know, my ASIAN wife) wants it. What's with Asians and KFC???

Anyway, I keep walking and see an Eiffel tower. No, not the real one...unless I really got lost...but a big orange one. I don't know if it is a 100% replica, but it looks exactly like it to me. It has a huge span between the legs and everything. Now, this could be Tokyo Tower...but I don't remember if Tokyo Tower is the Eiffel tower or a building. Anyway, there seems to be nothing around and I see a subway station hidden on my left. I say hidden because it is literally only a doorway down to the subway. I decided to get on the subway and go somewhere I know there will be food. I choose...Tsujiki (sp???). This is where the famous fish market is. Maybe the world's largest, most famous, hell...I don't know. Since this is where the majority of the fish...50% of the world's consumption...comes into Japan, there have to be sushi bars. Well, that's a poor conclusion. I see nothing. So, I keep walking. I see a McDonald's sign so I head for it. There must be other resaurants around...it can't be a McD's and nothing else! Turns out, I've stumbled upon Ginza. Ginza was the original center of it all, I guess. Trendy stores and the like. Ginza St. is a very wide street that is closed to cars on the weekend. It is lined for at least 5 or 6 city blocks with trendy stores like Hugo Boss, Salvator Ferragamo, Shiseido, etc. A cool little shopping oasis, if you are into that. I'm not...and certainly not at this point. I'm hungry. Not only am I hungry, but it's sunny and 85 with about 90% humidity and I'm wearing blue jeans.

So, I head down a side street as I've seen no restaurants of interest. There's Laura Ashley...I don't think you can eat there...and then I see a sign for sushi. There is a little enrtry way with more signs...signs for other restaurants. I can go upstairs, downstairs, or through a door. I go downstairs. Why? Well, no good reason. I just recall for some reason that, in London, there was a great sushi place down in the basement of a building. Turns out, this is where the sushi joint is located.

I order a little bit of everything. A few beers...sampling Sapporo, Asahi, Suntory...chu-toro, salmon, etc. It is here that I decide I should give the uni a try. For those of you who don't know, uni is sea urchin. It may be the reproductive organs of the sea urchin, but I'm not sure if that's true or if I'm mixing up my stories. I've tried uni before in the US. Both alone and with a raw quail egg on top, and didn't particularly enjoy it. There is something that I don't like...and it isn't very clear. It doesn't immediately offend your palate, but there is no immediate satisfaction either. Sort of an indifferent dislike, I guess. Well, in Japan it sucks the same. I didn't vomit, but I didn't enjoy eating it either.

Again, this place is void of English. It turns out that a waitress speaks English and, interestingly, went to school in Perth, Australia, the same city where Jati went to school. They went to different schools, but it was interesting nonetheless. This doesn't make her fluent in English, however, which I think is important to point out. But, her struggles to translate my English into their Japanese is way better than my attempt to...well...speak English to people who don't speak English.

I end up asking if they have spicy tuna rolls. A staple of sushi bars in the US, I haven't seen it yet in Japan. They tell me that they have it so I ask for one. It comes out looking like it does in the US...rice on the outside, then seaweed, then a tuna mixture. The difference, I find, is that the inner layer is chopped up maguro (tuna) mixed with teriyaki sauce. I'm not sure who thinks this is "spicy"...but it isn't me. It was tasty, but not what I was hoping for.

So, I finish eating and head out. I'm just looking for a train station that is a little closer than a mile or two away. As I'm walking, I see the door open to a bar and only the bartender inside. I figure I'll head in, have a beer, and get directions to the train station. Well, I headed in but the rest never happened. I had 4 or 5 beers and heard about 3 words of English. Didn't even get directions to the train. It wasn't a wash, however, as the bar was very cool. It had a basically all wood decor...wood bar, wood stools, wood table, wood shelving for the booze...and more booze than I've ever seen. There were, at a minimum, 84 different bottles of Scotch. That's just the Scotch. There were multiple Wild Turkey varieties including one called reserve, or something similar, that I've never heard of. And, yes, for those of you who are wondering (Eric) there was both Knob Creek and Jaegermeister. They also have 10 or so bottles of Japanese "whiskey". I put that in quotes as I suspect their whiskey encompasses everything from Scotch to moonshine. This place has jazz/blues playing and has a relaxing atmosphere that you just don't find everywhere. I think this would be an even better place to sample Scotch than Fado's (at GVR, of course, Mike).

When I finally left, I was feeling pretty good and sought out to find a train. A phenomenon that I've found here is that there are tons...and I mean alot...of people on the street either trying to sell you something through a karaoke machine or by handing out stuff. So, I pass some of these people and decide that, since they've already annoyed me, I'll ask them for directions. Well, I don't get them. I mean, I do, but they aren't good or correct directions...just directions. So, I wander around and finally find a train station. Now, being out of my comfort zone, I can't find the station near my hotel on the map. Who's idea was it to use Japanese on these maps...seriously? So, I ask some girl in the train station if she speaks English. A little, she says, so I ask her how I get to Shinagawa. Without saying a word, she walks off. I have a serious gift with the ladies. Luckily, I walk over to another ticket machine, ask the same question, and get a girl who tells me how much to get a ticket for and which platform I need. I'm all set.