As I sit here, casually eating the entire pack of McVities Digestives my Mum gave to me as a 21st birthday present (Good choice, Mum. I'm not even kidding), I am mentally re-winding the past month of my life. And as iTunes keeps stubbornly shuffling onto "A-ha" for reasons I do not wholly understand (I'm pretending this is a bad thing, but I'm currently doing the Carlton dance), I am trying to think of three words that will sum up my experiences. Here are my preliminary attempts:
Travelling, Friends, Lovely
(Verdict – Not totally accurate and a bit lame. Where's the PIZZAZ WHERE)
Travelling, Friends, Broke
(Verdict – Better, but still boring)
Er… Travelling, Mateys, WHY ARE MY PARENTS IN THIS COUNTRY?!?!!??!?!####1111one
(Verdict – Bending the rules. I like it. Spot on. SPOT. ON. Who am I?)
That's right. My parents actually came to this country. This very morning I took my Mother to Fukuoka airport and waved her a teary goodbye. Tears of joy. Pure joy. Am I joking? I DON'T EVEN KNOW ANYMORE.
It was an experience I will… never forget; my parents basically being unceremoniously dumped into a part of my life from which they have been, and should probably always be, totally separate, and having to babysit them as if they were new-born meerkat babies, susceptible to hawks and large caterpillars that may get all up in their grills. I might just add that spellcheck is telling me "meerkat" isn't a word, and that I should replace it with "Mercator". Mercator babies. MERCATOR BABIES)
My Parents: the fruit of Gerardus Mercator's loins.
Point being, I met them at the airport this exact time a fortnight ago, pleased to see them, pleased they were pleased to see me. This was how I felt for the first five minutes:
NEVER LEAVE ME AGAIN
For the next 20155 minutes, I felt like this:
Hey, parents, can I AXE you a question? Aha... ahahahaHAHAHAHAA
Before I continue, I will give this disclaimer: I love my parents, deeply. I appreciated them coming to see me more than I had even anticipated, and had some great times. I love them. They are brill.
UNFORTUNATELY, when it comes to Japan and its baffling culture, whereas I have matured from snot-baby to a slow, confused child repeatedly stumbling off the edge of a darkened sumo ring, my parents arrived here as angry, deaf tramps, demanding an explanation for why they couldn't understand things and why people kept staring at them. Don't get me wrong, they tried. Ye Gods, how they tried. My Dad, never one to pass up on a chance to exhibit his linguistic prowess, developed a frankly bizarre habit of dropping the widely used "konnichiwa" as a greeting and replacing it with… "eyyyy".
It was… quite fascinating. Infuriating. Hilarious. Because, regardless of me telling him time and time again that this was completely not a normal thing to do, wasn't Japanese (or English), that Happy Days wasn't even broadcast here… he stopped even noticing himself do it. In the hotels, "EYYYY", in the restaurants "EYYYYY". Sometimes it wasn't even a greeting, sometimes it was to get somebody's attention. "EYY?" He would beckon into the distance. Oh father, why?
I DON'T UNDERSTAND WHAT YOU'RE DOING
At first, I laughed a lot. Then I started rolling my eyes and slapping his arm like a disgruntled schoolteacher. After that I just put my head in my hands and despaired for my ancestors.
At one point, when a woman in a shop walked past him and said "ohayou gozaimasu" aka good morning, he nodded, bowed slightly, smiled, was poised for a normal response… and then actually said the following, verbatim:
"EYYYmasu."
Why
Oh well.
The point is, I had a whale of a time with them, not being allowed to swear as we drove around the island of Kyushu in a car the size of a pokéball, with a sat-nav system I had to operate without instructions which we named "Migi-houkou", because that's all she ever said. It means bear right, as far as I could make out. So naturally
If we turned right? "Migi-houkou desu"
Left? "Migi houkou desu."
When we were on the ferry to Kumamoto in the middle of a large expanse of seawater? "Migi houkou desu."
What's that you say about Japan having incredible technology? o-hooooooo yeaMIGI HOUKOU DESU
Whale. of. a. time.
But I'll tell you something. It was all very memorable. I hope they enjoyed it. I KNOW I DID.
...
So moving backwards here because that's how I roll, two weeks before Christian Bale repeatedly attacked my parents with an axe, I was just chillin', travellin' round Japan's main island with a bezzie mate. We saw the sights, spent our scholarship money mainly on food and Starbucks coffees (WE SHOULD BE BUYING BOOKS WITH THIS MONEY, ONLY BOOKS AND SOLITUDE) and generally not waking up until about midday. We were not efficient tourists.
First on our hitlist was Tokyo. I'd been there before on a visit two years ago, but only under Japanese adult supervision which was pretty soulcrushing. Therefore when we met up with another friend of ours living there, I was all like YO YO YO, LET'S LIVE THE TOKYO DREAM BOYS. First we lived the geek Tokyo dream:
All I wanted was a cocktail glass in the shape of a robot. I didn't get one.
Stealth
Then we lived the well-known "Cat Tokyo Dream". And by this, I mean we went to a cat café in Ikebukuro. This is the reception we got from the cats:
1000 yenz worth of sleeping lazy shits
Don't touch me
Oh, and this happened, too:
KAWAIIII?!?!! no.
From Toyko, we got a seven hour night bus to Kyoto. Was surreal and I'm still not quite sure if I dreamed the whole experience or not. All the windows were blacked out, so as we drifted in and out of sleep we had literally no idea where we were. ON THE ROAD TO A RICE FARM IMPRISONED THERE FOREVERMORE. Now and then we would stop, more people would get on, and this confusion would continue – absolute stillness and silence around us. Bizarre. I think that bus thought it was a rocket-ship at some points. Even buses have dreams. Word.
In Kyoto we went searching for Geisha –> Geish –> Gash with some lovely people from our hostel. We got to Geisha –> Geish –> Gash Alley aka Gion, but found only rain and no gash at all. So we took this photo instead. I like to call it "Memoirs of a Gash-Alley"…
Perfectly colour-coordinated. Not bad.
We also found this:
The more I consider this, the more baffling it becomes. Regret not going in and demanding an explanation.
All we really did in Osaka was go to the castle. It was castle-y.
In Kobe we just went to McDonalds a lot.
AND THEN MY PARENTS ARRIVED. A pretty concise summary of a month's travels, I think you'll agree.
On a tangent, here's a man who is apparently wearing a pair of golden testicles on his head:
No explanation necessaryWHAT THE HELL is going on
WHICH REMINDS ME (how? don't ask) of one thing I truly miss about England (along with Earl Grey tea, real cheese sandwiches, Pizza Express and the London Underground) and what is probably the reason I have yet to look at a Japanese man and think "PHWOAAAR". The answer? Beards. (BET YOU WEREN'T EXPECTING THAT ONE EH EH, GET YOUR MIND OUT OF THE GUTTER)
I bloody miss beards. A BEARDED MALE. There are none here. I find them attractive. I have also always desired a beard for a day…
Let's take a few moments out of our busy schedules to recognise some beards of note.
I made this myself. (facepalm)
No. 1: THE GANDALF BEARD
A thing of beauty.
Characteristics: A classic look. Long, crimped, ability to plait beard in any style, perhaps in co-ordination with long flowing grey locks. N.B. Looks best with gnarled stick accessory/wizarding ability/you shall not pass
VERDICT: 9/10
No. 2: The Joaquin Pheonix Beard. Or as I like to call it, the "HE'S BAT SHIT CRAZY" beard.
Walk the line... of poor hair maintenance.
Characteristics: Beard appears to take up most of face, eyebrows seem to act as mirror to beard, like a reflection of mount Fuji in still waters. N.B. Looks best with the eyes of a serial killer.
VERDICT: 7.2/10
No. 3: The Ryan Gosling Beard
I...
Cha…r…: …………………………………………………………………………nng………… pleu…… words.
Sorry, did you say something?
Verdict: Please father my children.
No. 4: THIS MAN'S BEARD
I see what you did there.
Characteristcs: Bold use of hair gel. Impressive shaping of octopus tentacles. N.B. Works best with black and white pinstriped suit (?????)
Verdict: Please don't father my children.
And thus concludes beards of note. Gandalf wins.
In other news, tomorrow I am going to China for two weeks. AS YOU DO, you know, ALL IN A DAYS WORK, A PENNY SAVED IS A PENNY EARNED WORTH TWO IN THE BUSH STITCH IN TIME SAVES 9 CATS. Did I mention I've been up since 5am this morning? As previously mentioned, I took my Mum to the airport, only got back to my flat at about 7 – went to sleep straightaway. Woke up at at the sound of my friend's text, glanced at my clock. 12:15pm – the time my flight leaves tomorrow. But my brain being the stupid twat that it is thinks OH MY GOD I'VE MISSED MY FLIGHT I FORGOT TO SET MY ALARM AND NOW IT'S TOMORROW AND I CAN'T GO TO CHINA. I then proceed to actually fall to my knees, and shout to the heavens in a heartwrenching, all serious, tragic voice:
"No…… NO… NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!"
Then I realise it's still Friday and basically fall into silent hysterics for about five minutes. True facts.
It's all goodWHAT'S WRONG WITH ME.
Anyway, sorry about the massive overload of information I've just shat onto your laps. I thought I'd make up for the lack of a February entry with a morbidly obese March version. I hope I haven't confused you too much with my train of thought. I know the beard thing came out of nowhere…
Right, off to Shanghai to buy some fake designer sunglasses and potentially adopt one or two children. Wish me luck.
Big love x
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