Strolling around Yanaka

Many parts of Tokyo have been rebuilt since World War II, following extensive damage and also with the rise of Japan as a modern industrial country. But some parts of old Tokyo remain, where you can get a sense of the pace and nature of life in the first half of the twentieth century. One of the best of these is Yanaka, where I took a leisurely stroll for a few hours. Yanaka is adjacent to Ueno and close to Asakusa, both of which reflect traditional Japanese culture.

The pace of life in Yanaka is slow, with bicycles and walking both popular forms of transport and with streetscapes that look very different from areas like the skyscraper district of West Shinjuku, from which I am writing this. The area has many small temples, but also many residents, and I found strolling around the small streets to be the best way to wander around. There are small shops, too, like the one above, in which the shopkeepers live above the shop. I liked the way people decorated their front doors, with flower pots often featuring prominently. In some cases, however, front doors just somehow looked picturesque. In fact, as it is summer time now, there are lots of flowers evident around the streets of Yanaka.

The most striking thing about Yanaka for me was the large number of small (and some not-so-small) temples in the area. Many of these showed lovely craftsmanship and had beautiful gardens around them, so it is not surprising that Yanaka has been called  the “town of temples and slopes”, and in 2007 was apparently named as “One of the Top 100 Historical Views of Beautiful Japan”. Most of these are described only in Japanese, so I am struggling to name them, but the selection of pictures here shows some lovely traditional Japanese temple architecture, with extensive use of wood, tiled roofs and gardens of rock and greenery.

The little wooden tiles (called ’ema’) are for people to write down their wishes and leave them at the temple, in the hope that they will be fulfilled by the relevant deities, and are common throughout Japan.

Temples also have statues prominently displayed (usually outside in the garden), and there were some lovely examples around the temples in Yanaka. I especially liked the large seated Buddha, very similar to (but much smaller than) the famous seated Buddha at Kamikura, just out of Tokyo.

There were also other statues around, such as the following two. The seated man was perched high on top of the Asakura Museum of Sculpture while the smaller statue of an interesting – almost comical – rock amused me, and was located in a small park I passed by.

I saw many examples of lovely trees, often around temples. Some of them had clearly been manicured and carefully shaped, to beautiful effect. (Somehow, they seemed to fit the stereotype of Japanese garden trees, in fact!) Because it’s summer, everything is very green; I tried to imagine what it would look like in winter, especially with snow falling on them. Here are a few examples, including some nice bamboos (which were much less common).

Temples often have cemeteries associated with them and I was struck by how different these seemed from the various ‘western’ cemeteries and graveyards I have seen. Some of them looked relatively new, but maybe they were just well-cared for (like the temples themselves). The large Yanaka Cemetery (with the big trees) is different from the smaller cemeteries around temples. I was not quite sure of the significance of the wooden plaques (about the size of skis) which were often evident. Maybe a Japanese person can enlighten us?

Cemeteries notwithstanding, the pace of life is definitely slow around much of Yanaka, with very little motorised traffic and a mixture of pedestrians and bicycles. Unlike my experiences in Perth, none of the bicycles went fast; they are built for comfort and efficient transportation of goods and children, and seemed to move at a leisurely pace. They were clearly used for shopping, ferrying children around or just going visiting a friend rather than racing along in lycra in a peloton. In Australia, it’s pretty common to build suburban houses with two-car garages, so I was a bit surprised to see the six-bicycle garage shown below.

Unlike other parts of Tokyo, the electrical system in places (especially busier places) seemed to be a chaotic bunch of wires, reminding me of similar things in South-east Asia, such as in Bangkok or Hanoi. I tried (but failed) to imagine what it would be like to undertake routine maintenance of the wires. Here are a few examples:

There are many small shops, cafes, restaurants etc around the streets of Yanaka, many of them quite picturesque. For example, the old coffee shop below has only a few tables inside – notice the benches outside for waiting customers to sit (extremely common in urban areas in Japan). The last two people on the bench were allowed inside just after I took this photo, and I was too impatient to wait until someone left to go in myself, but it looked like an authentic place inside. The Indian restaurant is a timely reminder of the extraordinary ethnic diversity of foods here; if you can imagine it, there is a restaurant serving it somewhere. [Just down the road from here was a restaurant proclaiming that it was serving “Turkish, Persian and Uzbekistan cuisine”!]

There were very many other signs of old Japan around the streets of Yanaka, and lots of old shops, but there are also signs of more recent Japanese life. A few snaps below show some examples, with iconic Japanese scenes, including some sake barrels, one of the ubiquitous slot machines (there must surely be millions of these in Tokyo!) and a modern looking izakaya (pub) on the corner (or maybe a restaurant … with seats for a queue outside). The insides of a couple of shops in Yanaka Ginza (a local shopping area) show an interesting shop devoted to cat paraphernalia and another selling strange cat-like objects; quirky things like that are pretty common in Tokyo.

Finally, I became intrigued by, but have not yet unravelled, some of the interesting street markings I saw in my travels. They seem to be sewer manhole covers or otherwise connected with plumbing systems; I’m really not sure. But they reminded me that it pays to look down as well as up and ahead when strolling around somewhere new:

In all, I thoroughly enjoyed my stroll around Yanaka, got lost regularly, took heaps of pictures (of which these are just a small sample) and was pleased to have been able to let time pass by in old Tokyo, before heading back to the madness of peak-hour trains and the skyscraper world of Shinjuku.

A night in a Tokyo capsule hotel

Capsule hotels began around 30 years ago in Japan, mostly as a way of providing salarymen (businessmen in offices) who had been out having a few drinks after work a way of spending the night in the city and going back to work in the morning. The trains stop fairly early (around midnight) and taxis are very expensive – even more so in the wee small hours – and in addition, men might be either too embarrassed or too drunk to go home. [Since then, there are also capsule hotels that include women and there are other categories of people who stay in them, including the homeless and even (in my case) tourists]

They are called ‘capsule’ hotels, as the ‘bedroom’ is well described as a self-contained capsule, usually stacked in twos in a dormitory arrangement, as the picture above shows. I stayed in an upmarket version, right next to Shinjuku Station, very conveniently. It was my first time in a capsule hotel – but I suspect won’t be my last!

On arrival, before entering the hotel, I had to remove my shoes and replace them with slippers. I was reassured to find some English:

 

Inside, I had also to remove my clothes and replace them with brown ‘pyjamas’ (which were all one ample size!) Everything was securely stored in lockers, and I was given my (‘deluxe’) capsule key. Staff spoke enough English to deal with a newcomer like me, and even had a sheet of instructions for first-timers, which was helpful.

After a day’s travel, I was looking forward to a bath, and chose this hotel in part because it offered good facilities. In case you are unfamiliar with them, Japanese baths are communal, and you need to thoroughly (very thoroughly, it seemed to me, as some of my

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Washroom for communal washing before bath

companions spent a long time doing that!) wash yourself before getting in the bath. (The bath is for soaking in after you are clean … it’s unthinkable and very bad manners to use a bath to wash in.) Of course, I didn’t take photos (for obvious reasons!), but the two photos here are from the hotel website, showing the cleaning bays and the hot spa bath. The cleaning bays I used didn’t have chairs, but had tiny stools, which were tricky to get down to, but I managed! Everything was provided in abundance: soaps, shampoo, conditioner, razors, etc.

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Lovely hot spa bath

The bath itself was wonderful … just what I needed after a day travelling! I was surprised to see some of my fellow bathers with a small towel on their head, until I realised that there was nowhere else to store it … for getting partly dry when you get out, and before using a real towel. there was also a sauna available.

 

Then I headed off to my capsule. I chose a top bunk (with advice from a friend), which involved scaling the steps. My locker key allowed me to enter the dormitory, but the shutter in front cannot be locked (by law).

I had ample room and a comfortable bed in an air-conditioned space. I could reach the ceiling (but only just), and had a TV set (with Japanese stations), a choice of videos to watch (I didn’t) and even a little tablet for getting help and advice if needed. And of course wifi everywhere. I very rarely try to reach the ceiling at home, so it didn’t bother me that it was close!

 

There were lots of signs and advice in English (perhaps because I chose an upmarket version?), but I think the sign in the (communal) toilet telling me about the hook was a little excessive.

I had been warned that the hotel would be very noisy with people snoring, full of drunks, etc … none of which was the case. [Earplugs were supplied, but I didn’t use them. Maybe I was lucky or was already asleep before the noisy people arrived?] There were strict prohibitions about talking on phones, playing music, listening to TV (there were headphones instead), so the experience was very quiet and I had no trouble sleeping at all.

In the morning, thoroughly rested, I washed and shaved in the very nice facilities available, and then had another bath, which was just as pleasant as the first one, and availed myself of free ‘breakfast’, which consisted of some nice buns and lots of free drinks (teas, coffees, soft drinks, water, etc.) I could also have bought other things from several coin in the slot machines, but chose to not do so. [There was a beer slot machine I could have used the previous night too in our communal area.] Several of my fellow travellers were at breakfast at the same time, all dressed like monks, and nobody talking (maybe Trappist monks?). Everyone was using their device, of course … it is 2017, after all, and the wifi was very good. Several of them were reading the manga (Japanese comics), which were provided in abundance.

The verdict? A terrific experience. The hotel was spotless throughout. The staff were very helpful. I had everything I needed for a comfortable night’s sleep. I was safe. It was much less expensive than a hotel. My belongings were safe, once I mastered the succession of keys and lockers etc. The hotel had lots of other nice features (e.g. a laundry) and is part of a chain. You can find out more here if you are interested.

Would I do it again? Certainly!

 

Tokyo mosque

I was a little surprised to find a mosque in metropolitan Tokyo, although Tokyo is always a city of many surprises. It has been there for about 80 years, and is in fact the site of the local Turkish Culture Center, providing both a place for religious worship as well as meeting for local people with interests or roots in Turkish culture. The mosque is located near Shibuya, and I was able to walk to it from Yoyogi Park (in about half an hour). Like most mosques and churches I have visited, they are happy to have respectful visitors when services are not being conducted.

CIMG5906As a regular visitor to churches, temples, shrines and mosques in many countries, I am always struck by their differences. My interest in mosques has generally been in the beautiful mathematical patterns they include, which arise from Muslim prohibition on the representation of people. The pictures shown in this blog give some examples of this.

I always wonder how the builders and craftspeople create things like this beautiful interior, filled with geometric constructions.

There’s lots of care and attention given to the calligraphy as well, of course.

 

In this mosque, as with others, there are attractive patterns outside as well as inside, and also many examples of lovely geometric designs on doors, screens, etc. The domes and arches outside are a precursor to the tombs and arches inside. The screen below has a ten-pointed star. I’m pretty sure that I was not taught how to construct something like that in school, using a ruler and compasses. Things used to be in multiples of six. And the elaborate work on the door has ten-pointed stars, pentagons and other shapes, all made with care by a craftsperson with mathematical expertise.

Here are some other shots of the interior of the mosque, which looks beautiful . The dome in particular, is a spectacular object.

The cultural center attached to the mosque also has some lovely mathematical patterns and designs, also beautiful examples of Islamic art, many of them in ceramics. I am intrigued by the geometry in the large dish that provides both nine-pointed stars on the outside and a twelve-pointed star in the middle, as well as small five-pointed stars between these. Very clever. I am reminded that, when Europe was in the ‘Dark Ages’, the science and geometry and mathematics of the ancient world was preserved and enhanced by the world of Islam, although this is often forgotten in our school curricula.

Although the principal purpose of the mosque is to support the Turkish community in Tokyo, and provide them with an opportunity to pray together, the mosque seems to welcome visitors as well, both from elsewhere in Japan or indeed from abroad (like me). If you happen to be in Tokyo, it’s worth a visit. Details are on the website.

 

Kawagoe

Kawagoe is a small city a short distance north of Tokyo, but far enough away to feel a little bit in the country; you even pass some rice fields on the way. I visited here recently in an afternoon, having not heard of it previously. [The most common day trips out of Tokyo are to Nikko, Kamikura and Hakone, but it seems that this is the fourth in that group, according to Tourist Information I saw.]

The main attraction of Kawagoe is that there is a street and some surrounding area that is locked in a time warp, and apparently resembles Tokyo around 100 years ago. (Sometimes called Ko-Edo … literally ‘little Tokyo’). So it’s a popular spot for Japanese folks to escape the city, remembering the days of old, browsing small shops and eating traditional delicacies of various kinds. Most of the visitors appeared to be Japanese, rather than foreign tourists, perhaps because Kawagoe hasn’t yet become prominent in guide books?

Many young women enjoy hiring traditional Japanese clothing such as yukata (or even the more lavish and expensive kimono), so there were lots of them wandering around when I visited, so that a generally pleasant atmosphere prevailed.

I also visited a large Shinto shrine – which was very popular – in which many young women (especially) were apparently making wishes for a successful marriage, by writing their wishes on small wooden boards (called Ema) or on small paper messages and hanging them on display. (There were also men doing such things, dressed in traditional costume, but many fewer.) There were several other shrines in the city, but time allowed me to sample only one.

Kawagoe is especially famous for an annual festival that is held on a weekend in October, these days attended by around a million people. It’s been going some 400 years now. I was disappointed that my schedule didn’t permit seeing this, but I did go to an interesting museum dedicated to the festival, showing pictures of some of the extraordinary three-tired floats, as well as some actual examples. The photo shows a couple of these turning corners – tricky as they don’t have steering wheels, and so need to be levered around gradually!

Certainly worth the 45-minute trip out of the metropolis!

Australia from the air

When you live as far away from everywhere as Perth is, air travel is necessary to get to many places. I generally prefer aisle seats so that I can get up and stretch my legs easily, especially for longer flights. But on my recent short trip (just a little over three hours), I chose to sit by the window, partly hoping to see Uluru from the air. I was not disappointed, as there were few clouds (but lots of haze) that day.

Uluru is a large rock in central Australia. Of course it’s been there a long time, and has great significance for local Indigenous people. It was officially returned to them around 30 years ago, having previously been known as Ayer’s Rock. It’s a popular tourist destination for visitors to Australia, as well as locals like me.

The reddish landscape made it clear to me why the phrase ‘Red Centre’ is appropriate, but I was also struck by the lovely natural patterns of various kinds you can see from up high. It made me wonder how Indigenous artists have long represented such patterns in paintings, for thousands of years before anyone took to the air.

As I got closer to Perth, the land is more developed, with farmers growing wheat crops, and lots of lines in the patterns suggesting that the land has been tamed for humans. Many years ago, I worked in what is described in Western Australia (WA) as the eastern wheatbelt, helping collect wheat harvests as a vacation job, so the site of fledgling crops reminded me of how tough it is for many farmers perched on the edge. This shot was taken near Narambeen, where my maternal grandparents were farmers almost a century ago. So far this year, rainfall has been too low for many to even bother to sew a crop. Let’s hope it improves.

Simpson’s gap

We visited Simpson’s Gap on the way from the airport in Alice Springs to the townsite. The gap is a gap in the West MacDonell Ranges, a very long mountain range in this desert-like environment in the centre of Australia.

 

It’s a lovely environment, including a small colony of rock-hopping wallabies. I loved the colours of the rocks and the grass and the sky, reminding me of the wonderful paintings of Albert Namatjira which I first saw in my childhood. As it is fairly close to town, there was a school excursion there: I always admire teachers who have the courage to take their students out of the classroom, as I know it’s always difficult.

Introduction

I started this blog in 2017, unsure if it’s a good idea or not, but thought that the best way to find out is to try. I thought it may be a nice way to record a travel diary, perhaps as an alternative or supplement to using FaceBook. We’ll see what happens.

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Travelling alone is different from travelling with friends or family, so I was attracted to the idea of writing a blog for myself to record my thoughts and feelings and observations, in the spirit of “How do I know what I think until I see what I say?”, a little notice that I used to have taped to the bottom of my computer screen. I enjoy taking and sharing photos too, to somehow capture the experience for myself and for those not able to be here.

For example, I loved the early morning view out my hotel window in Alice Springs in 2017, and it’s nice to have the above photo as a reminder. (If you’ve not had the good fortune to go to Alice Springs, I hope you like the photo too.) The other picture at the top of this post is of the lovely Connemara National Park in Ireland, which I was lucky enough to visit in 2016 with little sister Cherrie Searle. Irish countryside is lovely, but in a different way. I expect only very rarely to include photos of myself, however; I guess I’m still not part of the selfie generation.

I expected my blog posts to be short, with a selection of relevant photos, but also thought that sometimes they may be longer (e.g., when I don’t have time to make them short). Only time will tell. My posts stopped for a few years after a computer mishap in Switzerland and then were interrupted by the chaos of Covid, so only a some of my recent adventures have been recorded here.

You are welcome to follow and interact with my travels if you wish. Either pop in to this site when you feel like it, or subscribe to it via the link on the right and get an email alert about a new post. I’ll do my best to respond to constructive feedback, as I’m just learning how to do this and will mostly learn by my mistakes, as we all do. But as they say, or at least they ought to, when you stop learning, you’ve stopped living …