Waking Hour

All photos from my trip can be found here:

Enjoy!

It's so beautiful here, she says
In this moment now.  In this moment, now.

I cannot stop thinking about Switzerland. I really don’t want to forget this time. It runs through my head: peoplewatching in Zurich, Novotel in Bern, seeing Vince standing in Place Pury, having chocolat with the Neuchâtel boys, dancing with strangers at a concert, dancing with Natalie at the Highlander, Emmanuel, the fountain in Geneva, the knife shop, Zermatt, being on top of the world, dancing with more strangers in The Post, meeting Joyce and friends, Daniel, EPFL, shopping in Geneva, standing at the shores of Ouchy, Fondue with Vince and Natalie, GR-7, Greg, Bastien. I don’t want to forget this time.

And I know I don't want this
Oh I swear I don't want this
There's a reason not to want this, but I forgot

Immeasurable thanks to Vince, Nathalie, Mohammed of Novotel, Bern, the truck driver in Zurich, Pierre, the hostel mom at the Biker Hostel, Greg, Bastien, and all the other wonderful people of Switzerland who helped make my journey possible, and also memorable.

Everything is clearer now
Life is just a dream you know
That's never ending
I'm ascending

“An ironic pace of life”
"You have to open up your heart" - Vince

I saw some people sharing a bottle of wine on the train to Lausanne.  A stranger joined them and they offered him a cup.  Earlier I sat with a man who had a pitbull on the train, and the other passengers didn’t freak out.  I don’t know what people are talking about when they say the Swiss are really uptight.

People are not supposed to work on Sunday, Natalie tells me, but in recent times people have been able to work simply because they would be otherwise bored for an entire day.  If they want to work, let ‘em work, I say.

Oddly enough, nightlife here is pretty quiet as far as people walking around past 9pm on a weekday, especially in Neuchâtel.  As Greg put it, “Look!  There are 3 people walking!  What is happening?!” 

“This is not real coffee” - Gérard Depardieu

 Bastien, like so many of Vince’s friends, is one of those people you immediately like.  He laughed long and hard after Greg related my skateboarding story to him in French, but his engaging personality and bright eyes that seem permanently full of intrigue made it hard not to forgive his triumphant smirk.  In America, if a guy looked at a gal the way Greg and Bast do, with that much attention and focus, it probably would be safe to assume that the guy is thoroughly interested in her.  Unless, of course, the guy is Michael Casanova and working in a pawn shop teaches you that holding one’s gaze is the quickest way to extract the truth.  Maybe that’s it – what do you have to hide in an honest a place as this?  Yet another thing I’ll have to ask Vince.  edit:  Vince's take on this is that when you speak to someone in a foreign language, they'll focus totally on you to make sure they comprehend.  Ah well, it was a nice theory on my part. :)

 
“The barriers are down” – Jack Nicholson

After arranging a place to sleep I packed my necessities, paid an exorbitant fee for left luggage, and boarded a train for Neuchâtel.  I misunderstood Greg on the phone, and thinking I had nowhere to go for four hours I then got right back on a train and went to Bern, mainly so that I could have a warm place to sit and sleep for a while.  Like a homeless person, Mike says.  I promptly boarded a random bus and rode aimlessly around town, just happy to look at the town during rush hour.  Back on the main street, I painfully made my way to the closest bathroom - inside a bookstore.  This bookstore was actually really big, with 4 floors and various split levels branching off of each floor.  It had an attached café, which I was thankful for.  Painfully swallowed croissants and chocolat and more sleep on the train back to Neuchâtel were surprisingly medicinal, and I was in much better form by the time I met up with Greg.  We stopped by a bar above the McDonalds where the drinks are ridiculously expensive, and played a couple games of pool; I did pretty well though I lost both times at the 8 ball.  Later we stopped by GR-7 to pick up Bastien, Jody's roommate, and visited the new pub in town, where I had my first encounter with a 'tower of beer'.  Basically it is this large 4L graduated cylinder with a spigot.  I don't know why I didn't think to take pictures of THEM with it as well.  We split 2L between the three of us, and I only managed a glass and a half.  We had a great time trading stories about Greg and my trip so far.  I learned that beneath his quiet exterior Greg is a crazy dangerous person who you must never ride in a car (and most likely on a motorcycle) with, probably smokes/tokes a little too much, and is actually not gay.  LOL. Cool.
I really wonder if they were pleasantly drunk by the end.  I totally couldn't tell, but I imagine they can hold their alcohol pretty well.  We nearly stopped by the Highlander on our way home but I refrained due to the possibility of meeting former acquaintances!   I'm sorry Diana, this could have been our one chance to see Greg dancing, but I it didn't cross my mind.
Thank you Bastien, for giving me a place to crash on such short notice.  As for your friends, I should like to meet them and take a picture with them one day - Lena, Elena, and me.

I was excited to see Vince and Nathalie again, this time in their stomping grounds, Lausanne.  Nathalie is such an awesome girl, and Vince better not mess this up!  Her exuberance when I first met her and her sweetness on Vince made it easy to like her right off the bat.  Vince freely admits that her English is better than his, even though she is originally from Bolivia, so we became fast friends and allies in teasing Vince, much to his chagrin.  She fascinates me with her rolling of cigarettes, and she quietly impresses me with her ability to get top marks (according to Vince) while casually maintaining a rebel’s edge.

I wasn’t sure I could live in Lausanne until I saw the harbor at Ouchy.  The breathtaking shores of the lake remind me of La Jolla cove, wrapping gently around all in green and blue.  A parade of flags greet you when you get off the tram, like Pier 39 in San Francisco, and sailboats free of locked gates gently rock in the water, asking to be taken out into the wind.  I watched people walking their dogs and running along the tree lined paths.  If I ever tire of this place, and I want to retreat to my own version of San Luis Obispo, I could always hop on a train to Neuchâtel, and if I felt like seeing Tahoe, just take a train to Verbier or Zermatt.

 Earlier that day I traveled to EPFL, their university in east Lausanne.  It wasn’t busy there at all, so I had lunch in the main cafeteria and people-watched for a while.  I am considering doing my Masters there in Life Sciences and Technologies, though plans aren’t concrete yet. 

The Olympic museum at Ouchy is well worth the trip, especially if you can appreciate the worldwide coordination efforts that go into something as small but significant as the travel of the torch.  Right now there is an exhibit on Beijing, which is cool because they not only showcase the architecture involved but also art in the form of paintings, photography, and video that help show the different sides of Beijing and how it is evolving both directly for and as a side effect of the upcoming Olympics.

 I decided to take a side trip back to Geneva half an hour away to pick up a knife for Reenie and some clothes for myself.  Yeah, it’s expensive here, but once again, there are sales!  I had a great time picking out stuff I didn’t think I’d see in the US for cheaper, like a pair of dress pants that flare from the hip like the girls in Zurich wear, and a chocolate sweatercoat with a wavy edge all around to go with the brown wool plaid trumpet skirt I picked up.

 7pm and I met up with Nathalie and Vince for my first experience with Fondue!  We made our way through the cold to the oldest restaurant in Lausanne, where they wanted to hear all the latest gossip about my travels since I saw them last.  The fondue was…interesting.  The cheese was a bit strong and more sour than salty, the way blue cheese is.  Still, it was a cool experience and yes, the scrapings at the end are the best part! 

 

Zermatt is not unlike Lake Tahoe, with a small central town and many surrounding villages full of châteaus.  But the Alps, oh, how grand!  The mountain range seems to stretch on forever, blanketed in snow, at too high an altitude to be broken by trees.  Zermatt lies at the base of the Matterhorn in the Valais Alps of southern Switzerland, at 1600m above sea level.  When I arrived it was a Sunday afternoon, and the hours of most places were 8am-12, 4-7p.  Oh man.  I passed the time in an outdoor cafe looking out onto a children’s ‘arena’, where kids were playing soccer, rock climbing, and using playground equipment that would totally not fly in the US.  The alps were in the background, and as the clouds moved off for a bit, the Matterhorn came into view.  Arnaud, I am totally stealing your great pics of this fabulous mountain!  An older lady asked to join my table, and we quickly started a warm conversation about Swiss culture (she is from Zurich).  I ended up meeting her adult daughter who is also thinking of moving to Lausanne.  Who knows, maybe I will see her one day walking down the street.  Thank you for taking my picture!

 I had dinner at this English pub that had decent burgers on the cheap, and discovered a gold mine – you can rent a laptop and have unlimited internet, all for only 5Fr!  I felt much better after that and made my way to the Hotel Post, where there are a variety of restaurants, lounges, clubs and bars all under one roof.  I had a Cardinal at the bar and moved on into the lounge (The Pink) at the back, where a live band was playing 70’s and ‘80s rock covers to a ‘shy’ audience.  I stood near the front in my beanie grinning my fool head off at being able to see two live bands in one week, trying to avoid looking at the old man who I could see staring at me in my peripheral vision.  He asked me during the break if he could buy me a drink, and I turned him down.  Out of nowhere came the bass player - “I love the hat!”  Beanies with brims are totally not popular (yet) among the older youth here, so I was delighted to meet someone who could appreciate it.  I then totally violated a dancer’s rule and let HIM buy me a drink, and the rest of the night became this crazy-wonderful party like I’ve never experienced in my life!
 

 

 To anyone thinking of skiing/snowboarding in Switzerland:  If you take lessons, the day pass is NOT included!! 

Thank you Pierre, for being so patient and being a great instructor that day.  Every time he’d do a nose roll (standing 180 swivel) to reorient himself, I’d feel my heart jump in awe.  Out here that move is standard as they actually TEACH it as part of the intermediate/advanced classes.  I hope one day I get to that level.  I am now a lot more confident going down unfamiliar terrain and flats, and am SO glad I decided to stay until nearly 4pm to practice on my own.  I had to stop every so often on the piste (trail) to take photos; it was like being on top of the world.  Going down into a cloud while riding the gondola is the coolest thing, because suddenly you will pop out and be at this super steep angle on the edge of the mountain, hurtling towards the ravine!  Hearing a huge group of skiers and their heavy boots boarding the gondola is like having the Kentucky Derby coming through your headphones.  The gondola and lift system are so efficient here, and the cogwheel tram to the top of one of the mountains is totally impressive.  The underground tram has two cars that leave every few minutes from opposite ends of the single track.  In the middle of the run the track splits into two, and the cars are perfectly timed to pass each other without adjusting their speed.  Like clockwork!!

I could have gone snowboarding into Cervinia, Italy as well (yes, you need to bring your passport) but I didn’t have time and figured it would be something to look forward to.  Another thing I missed was the igloo hotel located along the Gornergrat railway on a nearby slope, but you had to pay for the train ride up this slope so I saved it for next time.  Bastien recently stayed at an igloo hotel in (I don't know where); Bast, care to comment here?  edit: The igloo was "in Gstaad, a place where the european stars goes for winter holiday!!!!"

This resort is open all year round, however, so maybe I will come back in the summer? ;)

I was thoroughly impressed by Switzerland’s commitment to conserving the world's resources. A brilliant transportation system that is the envy of the world, which includes eco-friendly trains, trams, and electric buses, maintains the incredibly clean air in the cities. There are only cars with smaller engines to conserve fuel, and a rigorous recycling regime is in full swing. There are also many small things making a difference. All my hostels had motion sensor controlled lights installed, especially in the bathrooms. This occasionally became a problem when the lights would go out while I was in the shower. The hostel in Lausanne is incredible – its water system was heated entirely by solar panels, and the entire building was renovated with ‘green’ materials back in 2001. To read more about their ‘ecology’ go here.
And click for pictures.
The school bathroom at EPFL not only had a main motion sensor activated (MSA) light, but also individual light switches in each stall. I wonder how much more expensive it is to design architecture that incorporates additions like this. Also, it is rare to find toilets with seat guards – it is much more common to see either a) nothing at all, or b) alcohol spray dispensers that you can use to wipe down your seat. Like in Japan, most toilets are equipped with lo/high flush panels/handles, to conserve water. Maybe Cali should try promoting these along with their push for low-wattage fluorescent light bulbs?

Something else that was surprising to me was the pride of the Swiss in their country, exemplified by their willingness to purchase items that sport their country’s flag. Everything from clothes to toiletry bags, luggage, and of course, watches – you can find the flag everywhere you look. I have never purchased something specifically because it was made in the states. Sporting the Flag feels almost overly patriotic, though I love my country. Too bad there is no flag for San Diego.

Granted, Switzerland is very small, and trying to push Southern California towards a likeness of Switzerland (or Oregon, haha) would be difficult.
All of Cali is 163,707 square miles, Southern cali is maybe 22K sq.mi, and by comparison Switzerland is ONLY 15,940 square miles. That’s just a bit bigger than Maryland and a bit smaller than West Virginia. Maybe that's why their transportation system works so well. Still, it would be nice to be able to visit friends around HERE without feeling fatigued at the thought of driving an hour to OC or two to LA. I miss being able to get on a train simply so I can sit down in a warm place for a while, and watch the countryside go by.

I laughed so hard after I saw this in the Lausanne hostel and couldn’t wait to get home to find it. Some things only apply to the French-speaking region, but the rest can be observed anywhere. After reading this it makes me wonder if Vince makes things up just to go with the Swiss stereotypes:




For Swiss German humour, (not entirely current) go here:

Geneva is very important culturally, but to a tired traveler like myself, I was content to take everything in by tour bus and let the significance of the city be fed into my ear.  Besides, after you visit the highlights of the city, there isn’t much to do.  I really regret not being able to visit Lucern instead that day, but I plan to return one day and I expect the beautiful city will still be there waiting for me.  The famous fountain, Jet d’Eau in Geneva is actually quite impressive, partly because you can walk up to it at your own risk, and partly because it’s one of the tallest in the world. 

What ended up attracting me more than the CERN, WTO, WHO or Red Cross buildings was more simply, shopping.  There are tons of shops in the train station and nearby along the main street leading down to the lake.  Not having the energy to walk very far, I moseyed into various shops and ended up with a cool little knife engraved with my initials, and photos of me in some of the new fashions in Switzerland. 

The knife-and-cigar shop owner was talkative and friendly, and sported a Stanford hoodie even though he had never been there.  His shop is the most reasonably priced near the station, and the free engraving is a big plus.  Souvenirs, anyone?

The clothing prices were comparable to Banana Republic though the fashion was more Charlotte Russe, but since there were sale racks I overlooked, maybe I’ll head back later in my trip to pick out a few favorites.  I intended to stay in Geneva and go out that night, but the annual Motor Show was being held that weekend, so there was no space in the hostels.  

Onward to Lausanne, then

After touring about their hometown, which is roughly the size of Coronado Island (~7sq.mi), I sat on a cobblestone plaza taking in the leisurely Friday afternoon with Vince, Greg and Jody, enjoying rich chocolat and people-watching. There were probably more tables outside than inside the smoky café, to accommodate the après-work customers who had to be appreciating the warm sunshine – a contrast to last week when it was freezing and snowing. People dress more casually here than in Zurich; it’s a small ‘country’ town and there’s no need to look pretentious.  I find out Jody is originally from Belgium and has citizenship in GB, but has since abandoned his Belgian citizenship in favor of Swiss and GB.  He is one of Greg's 3 classmates at UNINE, in the Microengineering program.  I like his eyes; they are mirrors of my own.  We stare in amusement at an earthmover crossing the plaza as casually as a person pushing a pram; people move around it and hardly give it a second glance. To me, it is as though an elephant just sauntered around the corner.

The lake here is beautiful – a flat, serene contrast to the sharp flanks of steep hills upon which 11^th or 12^th century architecture cluster in beautiful disarray. I imagine it must be fun to come in the summertime, when you can swim in the clean water and take rafts out to sun and go wakeboarding. It’s a small town, but the people have it good here.  Vince and I visited a Migros before meeting up with the others, and he apologized for the small selection of chocolates.  The display was at least 4 feet across.  "You can find stores that have an entire wall of chocolates" he says.  Wow.  The Migros is great!  A two level grocery store, it has awesome fresh fruit that you weigh and barcode yourself, and everything for the bachelor (A loaf of bread that's 4 slices) to the large family (Costco, anyone?).  The attached deli is fabulous for breakfast, lunch AND dessert, and is far more diverse than any deli I've seen in a grocery store.  It was perfect the next morning when I didn't know where to go and my host for the night was far too tired to drag himself out of bed.

Vince seems to know everyone in this town. His girlfriend, Nathalie, warned me of this, and it is totally true. I wish I had the presence of mind to take pictures of all of them, but I was too absorbed in taking in everything with my own eyes.

What I did take pictures of is the awesome band Nathalie invited me to see at the Festival Medecins du Monde – ALOAN.  Thank you so much, Nathalie!  The venue was La Case à Chocs de Neuchâtel, a totally awesome ‘underground’ style place that is replete with artistic expression.  If you can find electro-triphop and downtempo type music cool, then check out this band. Their energy and willingness to interact with the audience made them awesome to watch as well as to hear. Like many foreign artists, they sing in English, so they totally scored points with me just for that.  They joined the crowd later for drinks and smokes, so I made sure to meet them and tell them I loved their show.  Nathalie's sister, her bf, and another couple were there too, and we all had a great time dancing and carousing and getting to know each other.

Now entirely imbued with the smell of smoke, we were making our way home but decided to stop at one of the local clubs, the Highlander, just to show me what club life in Neuchâtel is like (“not so good”). It’s this little underground place about the size of a large coffee shop, with cheap drinks, an uneven gender balance favoring the girls, and an ok DJ.  Still, it was tons of fun dancing with Nathalie, and later Emmanuel, who didn’t speak any English but was a great sport in addition to being cute, and kept me company for the rest of the night. He couldn't understand that I was 25, so I told him after a while that I was 24, and he understood, so left it at that. =)   What I loved is how people didn’t need to be drunk in order to start talking to strangers and be frank, open, friendly, and honest. Nobody seemed particularly drunk in the place except, well, Vince and Nathalie ;) I didn’t have anything to drink that night, but after soaking up the atmosphere, anything was possible, and I had never been so open minded in my life. I’ve never felt more alive.

There are bears in Bern, so I’ve been told. I didn’t get to see them this time around. I am thankful that the men here are not bears. Since my initial visit to the capital was at night and spent mostly getting lost while looking for a dance event, and then looking for a place to sleep (I missed the last train back to Zurich), I was a bit concerned that I would quickly become a victim. Thankfully the only things that tailed me were taxis bent on getting my business when it became apparent that I had no clue where I was going. The cobblestone streets flanked by promenades of shops seemed endless. There were hardly any people out at 11pm on a Thursday night, even near the bars. By 2am the only voices came from clubs set up in cellars of the stores – it was strange seeing a door in the ground that led to a place of imbibement. It’s like homeless people don’t exist in Switzerland. The Rathaus (city hall) loomed above me, and I could smell the river nearby. Ok taxi, take me where I won’t have to walk anymore.
I think I will send a postcard to Mohammed at the Novotel Bern, who graciously allowed me to pass the night in the lobby of the beautiful hotel. Originally from Jordan (?), he is sad to see how America is being run, enjoys living here in the honesty of his wife’s home country, but misses the freely open personality of Mediterranean countries, however dishonest they may be. May only good fortune pass your way.

Zurich is a very fashionable city. Everyone is dressed like they have important bank jobs and have plenty of money to spend on smart peacoats, good haircuts, and nice ties. A great many people here wear boots, both men and women alike. You can tell though, that for most people, boots and the like are the equivalent to the sneakers of America – the heels and toes are often scuffed and worn, which detracts a bit from the rest of their sleek attire. I only spent half a day in Zurich and didn’t see much, but it was nice to people-watch; I’d liken it to New York sans the high-rise buildings. I don't remember how it is in New York, but here, traffic is more keen on stopping for pedestrians, so people totally just walk into the street at marked crosswalks (or anywhere) without even looking, it seems. I would nervously look at oncoming cars to make sure they'd slow down, but since cars here aren't very heavy, I probably didn't need to be so careful. After the first day though, I too was boldly making my way between trams and entering crosswalks without breaking stride like everyone else.

I highly recommend the hostel here, the Zurich Youth Hostel. It is quite modern, really clean, and run exceptionally well.
If you've never stayed at a hostel before, it is basically a public dorm where you can rent a bed in a room that holds from 2-8 (or more!) people. The places I stayed at held a max of 4 people to a room, except for Zermatt where I was alone with 7 empty beds. Some hostels have a sink and lockers in the room (this one did) and occasionally a shower, though usually the public showers/toilets are in the hall. You basically assume that people will not steal from each other (use the lockers), that someone might snore during the night or start changing in the room, and if you didn't put down a gender requirement, you may have both guys and gals in the same room. Many hostels have kitchens where you can tag your food, cook as long as you clean, and eat with everyone, which is great because it's one of the easiest ways to meet new people traveling from all over.
The free breakfast here was great; it really helped me get an overall feel for what the Swiss eat in the morning - in addition to pastries, various sorts of cured ham and cheeses seem popular, as is yogurt and fruit. The hot chocolate is so much better over here, and they even have blood orange juice! (Much more acidic than regular OJ btw) A great start for all us tired travelers.
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Want to experience the most amazing feeling possible in one's lifetime? It's much easier than falling in love and the whole nine yards, actually.
Recipe for euphoria:

Travel for nearly 24 hours straight after missing a connection and having to take another two flights to get to your destination, all without really washing up. Arrive at your destination to discover your luggage did not make the second connection and is lost somewhere in between San Diego, Atlanta, Brussels, and Zurich. Bravely suffer through misdirection at the hands of a disgruntled Tourist Info helpdesk: Get on wrong tram; what, end of the line? Where was the stop? Get on return tram, get off, board correct tram, get off at stop as directed by helpdesk. Where is the hostel? It's supposed to be right here! Ask a grocery store clerk, who asks an old lady, who asks a handsome young man to translate for her. Walk 10 min back along the tram line to the hostel. Check into your room with only the clothes on your back and an emergency necessities kit generously provided by Swiss airlines. TAKE A HOT SHOWER. Close your eyes, and sink...into the bliss.

It is raining here in Tokyo, as we make our way to the airport, bound for Okinawa. Through the diagonal raindrops you can see the many colored rooftops of tile and metal, blue and red and silver, each house unique and crowded against the others in their small plots of land. Graveyards and their polished granite markers fill the spaces that used to be small grassy lots; even the dead need to compete for space here. Jan thinks that there are an awful lot of graveyards near the train tracks because nobody wants to live with the noise pollution, thus making the land relatively inexpensive. I think it would be ironic for a loud person like me to be buried near the Shinkansen, where it is noisy enough to wake the dead.
One thing about Japan that I think is quite different from America is the lack of ladies wearing sport shoes like me. I feel pretty underdressed in my beat up Ascics, when every girl is wearing some form of heels – oftentimes something I’d only wear to a fancy club, not on my way to run errands. Maybe it is because most people are so short; I tower above most of the girls wearing heels in the train, haha.
The airport has no postcards, so there will only be postcards from Okinawa and Sendai; the latter Jan visited while working in Tsuruoka. I imagine they’ll get there after I return, but it’s still fun to write so I hope you’ll enjoy them.

True to the guides, Roppongi is the place for taste out here. There was so much variety that we ended up walking all along the street, unable to settle on anything. Hah, to think Jan was worried that I wouldn’t be in shape enough to walk everywhere! I was fairly trotting along at a Japanese pace (hot to trot? ;)~ ) the whole time and had Jan begging me to slow down, mwahahahahaha! (Jan: ‘Begging’ is a little strong… :P) We were taken in by the colorful pictures of the various restaurants in a HUGE mall we passed (reminiscent of the Beverly Center in LA with its circular design, movie theatre, and many expensive little boutiques), and decided on a kaiten-sushi place that was pretty unique to any I had been to before. First your shoes go into personal lockers at the back, and then you can either sit at the bar on elevated chairs, or on the floor with your legs going into sunken spaces below the counters, which give the illusion of one sitting traditionally. The gold spigot in the picture is actually a hot water dispenser, so you can make your green tea as strong as you want. On a side note, I’ve never been to a Japanese Tea Ceremony (I am not a typical tourist) but Jan had been to TWO of them, so I guess we won’t be attending one anytime soon, and besides, I hear the tea is ridiculously strong. I tried to curb my recently acquired eating habits, but Jan still looked surprised as I immediately cued up three dishes and started talking to the chef about Spanish mackerel (Aji), which I highly recommend if you ever want something different from the usual Tuna-and-Salmon fare. We didn’t spend that much between us, really.


.~:~*~> Onward

Since I am in Japan, I made it a point to visit the head temple Taisekiji in Fuji city, about and hour and a half from Tokyo by Shinkansen and bus. I could feel the stress flaring up in me when we missed the train that would take us to Shin-Fuji in time for the last bus, but the tickets were quite expensive so after a lot of debate and running around we decided to take the train anyway (Well, the wrong train at first, but hey, I make mistakes too). We were met at the Shin-Fuji by the absence of any bus – the bus to Taiseki-ji did not run today. The ticket lady suggested a different bus and taxi combination, which we took, but my insistence on acting like a guy and not asking for directions resulted in us getting off at a random stop far beyond our destination. Some things are best left unplanned, I think. The breathtaking waterfalls along the footpath just below the stop rivaled any I had seen in Kauai or Yosemite. Even in the thick humid air the mere sight of the falls eased my worries. The ice cream probably helped a bit too. =)

I had never been to the head temple without my family, and I had not expected it to be so empty, which is the case if there is no Tozan (pilgrimage) scheduled. The grounds are large and expansive, with several smaller temples, gates, and housing for the priests and lay believers laid out in neat rows amid large courtyards and paths. There is a sense of peace and simplicity imbued into the very earth that I always felt whenever I visited this place. I realized today how much of the place I had taken for granted; I didn’t know the significance of many of the buildings and made for a poor tour guide. The main temple was impressive as ever, but there was no entry to-day. We were out in the country, so the rolling hills and surrounding mountains were tempting. Maybe next time. This time the haze was unforgiving, but on clearer days you can see Mt. Fuji from the temple grounds. Next time I come I’ll have to make a point to hike it. Any takers? >=)

Today we got up rather late but made it to the lunch buffet at the hotel in Shinagawa, which overlooks a Japanese garden and koi pond. In addition to curry and pasta and other staples, they had pumpkin salad and soup available, which I thought would taste heavy but was surprisingly light and sweet. I think I’ll have to try out some recipes when I get back. The homemade donuts were, however, on the heavy side, but I still didn’t hesitate to dress them up with cinnamon sugar and chocolate caramel. =)
Even though we’ve figured out many a train timetable in Europe, dealing with the Japanese railway system was a bit of a trial. We managed to make it to K’s House in Tokyo, which is a great hostel if you’re ever thinking of staying in Tokyo by the way. It’s very clean and the staff is very helpful. The rooms remind me of storage closets, though, but then again so did the dorms in Warren. It’s totally like living in a dorm again, with the common washrooms and the laundry room and such. I’m not sure why the other hostels in Europe didn’t give me the same feel; it’s probably because they weren’t as clean.
Late afternoon found us in Ueno Park, which is a large park north of Tokyo. After a good deal of walking around, we decided to rent a rowboat and tool around the lake. Rowing requires a surprising amount of coordination; it’s a lot more reactive than a large boat, for sure. It was fun, but we were bored of it after about 15 minutes, so after trading off we just made it a pseudo-workout instead. Not quite whitewater rafting, here. I was glad for the sun, because then I could enjoy my ice cream as I walk around; I know the rain is bound to come sometime so I’m thoroughly enjoying the mild weather. There’s a museum here and a zoo, but there wasn’t time for that today so we got back on the train and headed for Ginza.

In the evening we made it to a Kabuki show, which I had never experienced before. I had mixed it up with the Noh theatre, so I was really glad that I was mistaken because although I know it’s important culturally, I find them rather boring. They had English translation headsets but I think I could have gotten the gist of the story even without the narration, just by the overdramatic acting. The scenes were all amusing, especially with the male actors pulling out the falsetto to play the women. It was all really great acting, and the backdrops were just beautiful.
I had been trying to stay hydrated all day, but on our way back to the hostel I finally succumbed to jet lag, dehydration and exhaustion, and I nearly got sick on the train and almost blacked out at a ticket machine. Tomorrow I’ll fight harder and smarter, I say.


.~:~*~> Onward

Tokyo is organized Chaos, and it is easy to tell that I am a foreigner as I walk about the station with roving eyes, cut off the masses of people walking in sure tracks to their destinations and instinctively stay to the right instead of the left on the escalator, and conseqently fielding annoyed requests to ‘please move’. I am amazed at how quiet everyone is; there’s no music playing in the station, and you don’t hear raucous conversations anywhere, even with the insane density of people. Maybe at least in that sense, I won’t be the nail.

.~:~*~> Onward...

Vienna Teng is plying at the calm and pulling me back into the old romantic I once was, years ago. But what is, is. And so it goes.

It might be a crush born of mystery
But when he’s there I don’t think twice
It’s a false kind of deal, a fling that’s history
And you’ll never see the rice

In sticky situations she says
She can push or pull away
Though if I wanted as much drama in my life
I’d find a different way

Holding to the upper hand
Is treading on thin wires
Where juggling and one misstep
Burns you in the hearts of fires

Try and try I’ll always search for more than comfort’s arms
Even if I have to throw my logic to the stars

Ah yea



( Trying to find the cure for the common thought - wash, rinse, repeat )

I just........... cry
over the broken vase
(don't cry)
and think about how I'm repeating the past

so perhaps I'll always have a knack for breaking beautiful vases
whether I just let them crash off my pedestal
or fall so slow through my hands
as they beg me to catch them
before they find the floor so exposed and wretched
but I just weep over the pieces
like my tears could push them back together
feckless tears

they'll always fall
like the vase.
(not if you hold them tight and not let them go)
the more I do, the more I bleed
so I'll take the pieces carefully
apologize to each one
as though I think I can make myself less guilty

sometimes I'll keep them all in a drawer
(it's not your fault)
and find them slowly coming together
(you can't do anything about it ...)
and then one day I'll look
and find it gone
I'll see it on a different pedestal

but sometimes I'll just stare at them
on the floor for a very long time
deaf to the piteous cries
and stroke the edges
and maybe I'll patch them up
but they'll never quite look the same again
together
on my pedestal.