Around The World In 80 Waves

I pushed further west keen to bag another beach today, but there are no spaces anywhere where you can pull in for a decent surf check. I really do mean none.

Any space that you might ordinarily sneak into for a minute or two to see what the waves are doing has been populated by automated car parks such as you see here. It isn’t hugely expensive but the standard argument I have had with car park attendants all over the world is particularly true here. ‘I just want to check the waves.’ However you get no more than about 30 seconds before the mechanics under your car lifts a hatch to stop you leaving without paying.

After a couple of these annoying stops I opted for the southern beach at Chigasaki where once more there are already people in the water and eagles in the sky.

I bumped into an English surfer drying off in the car park, who correctly predicted my session would largely be paddling. I didn’t take out the camera again because I knew he would be correct. He was right and I only caught two rubbish waves in the soup close to shore before getting out. It was grim in the 30mph onshore wind that whipped across the beach, leaving you feeling like you were being sand blasted on the way back to the car park.

After finally catching up on the blog I take a short drive in the car around the headland to the next town called Inamuragasaki.

I find a place to park by the station for the old fashion tram which runs along the coast and went to check out the surf.

It is typhoon season in this part of the world and remnants of Typhoon Fitow are just hitting the shore here. As a result of the onshore wind the sea is largely blown out, and it is looking about as uninviting as surfing gets even if the water is quite warm.

However there are still a few people in the water so I get my wetsuit on and paddle out to join them.I thought it was going to be awful because the winds was howling onshore, so didn’t bother with the GoPro suspecting I would have thousands of shots of me just paddling into the wind. 

It wasn’t as bad as I thought and I did catch a few but the rides which you picked off more by luck than judgement were at best short lived

The only other thing to report is how many Sea Eagles there are here. There is normally one soaring only slightly overhead while you are in the water always ready to swoop down and grab something from the sea very close to you. I am more than used to having sea gulls behave in such a way but have never been dive bombed by birds of prey before, and have to say it is a bit of a worry when a giant bird with talons whistles past your ears!

Given the almost monopolistic position that the Japanese brands of Suzuki, Kawasaki, Honda and Yamaha have created for themselves in the world market place. I have to say I am staggered by how few motorbikes I have seen since arriving in Japan.

This Honda by the way was the Purple People Eater which was the first bike I bought after passing my test back in London. I have owned vehicles from all the marques apart from Kawasaki, which my brother likes, and am somewhat disappointed that there are not more of the Rice Rockets on the road here.

There exists a popular belief in Japan (and other East Asian countries) that a person’s blood type is predictive of his or her personality, temperament, and compatibility with others, in a similar vein to the use of astrological signs in western countries. However blood plays a much more prominent role in Japanese society.

Discussion of blood types is widely popular in women’s magazines as a way of gauging relationship compatibility with a potential or current partner. Morning television shows and daily newspapers feature sanguine horoscopes. 

It is common among anime and manga authors to mention their character’s blood types, and to give them matching characteristics.

Some video game characters also act according to their published blood types, and users can select blood options when building custom avatars for many games too.

Many people have been discriminated against because of their blood too. This blood type harassment, called “bura-hara”, has been blamed for bullying of children in playgrounds, loss of job opportunities, and ending happy relationships. 

Employers even sometimes ask for a candidate to supply the information during interviews, and children at schools have been split up according to their blood type. The national softball team has customized training to fit each player’s classification, and companies have given work assignments according to their employee’s blood type.

The understood traits by classification are as follows:

Type A

Best traits – Earnest, creative, sensible, reserved, patient, responsible

Worst traits – Fastidious, over earnest, stubborn, tense

Type B

Best traits – Wild, active, doer, creative, passionate, strong

Worst traits – Selfish, irresponsible, unforgiving, erratic

Type AB

Best traits – Cool, controlled, rational, sociable, adaptable

Worst traits – Critical, indecisive, forgetful, irresponsible, split personality

Type O

Best traits – Confident, self-determined, optimistic, strong willed, intuitive

Worst traits – Self-centred, cold, doubtful, unpredictable, workaholic

I am delighted to see loads of surfers in the water at the first beach I stumble across and more importantly there are small but very surfable waves here too.

I get my board out to put the fins on and am disgusted to discover a huge hole in it, which is almost certainly from the airline travel from Australia. However I do a quick ding repair with my emergency solar-cure resin and I am walking down the beach shortly afterwards.

There must be more than a hundred people in the water in the middle of the day during the week, and I am surprised at how high the percentage of girls is here too. Being the only Geijin isn’t a problem though and I am greeted with smiles all around.

I am quickly to my feet during the session and catch loads of waves while here. It is good to wash the dust of travel off and bag another country for my tour. It had been a long day already though so after an hour and a half I got out and walk back across the beach towards my car.

I had parked in an underground car park upon arrival because there are no parking spots on the sea front, but am clearly not the only surfer to use it.

So much so, that there are steady stream of people heading to, and coming back from the beach carrying boards. There are also showers in the car park where you can freshen up after your session.

It is the morning after the Shinjuku night before, but I have to get up at dawn. I have to travel all the way back out to the airport to hire a car because I wouldn’t have a hope in hell of finding a car hire shop anywhere else.

I also wouldn’t have a hope in hell of understanding anybody or being understood myself anywhere else.

Despite my lack of sleep and probable whiff of alcohol I collect this car and then have to figure out how to get back to the hostel in Tokyo so that I can collect my stuff.

I am given an awful demo of the Sat Nav system so spend ten minutes going the wrong way before pulling over and seeking the help of a pretty woman doing her shopping. Luckily she has a few words of English and I learn how to get to the hostel if nothing else.

After finding the hostel and loading all my gear I then navigate south across the city using only the sun i.e. keeping it in front of me at midday.

I am on a stretch of toll roads for ages, and wonder when the countryside will start, but it never does all the way down to Kamakura which is a small city by the coast. I keep following the same navigational ploy until finally I find a beach.

Fabian and I spent two hours route marching to the Shinjuku area from the ninja restaurant in Akasaka. We had thought this would be a leisurely half hour stroll, but it was miles and because it is so humid here we were practically delirious with thirst by the time we arrived.

I would hate to think of paying for the electricity bill for around here because everything is illuminated. However I have finally found an area which is at least lively.

We take a stroll through the streets lined with girly bars, brushing off all the attempts to get us into one before we stop at a normal bar and are inhaling a couple of beers.

A quick glance in the guide book whilst there tells us about Golden Gai, which is an area of drinking dens run by the Yakuza (Japanese mafia). It sounds like it will be worth checking out, so we do.

All of the establishments there would be full to bursting with just half a dozen people in them. Some are friendly and other not so much so. We got told we would have to pay 3,000 yen just to get into one because we didn’t speak Japanese.

We found a fantastic place where the locals were all singing Karaoke at the bar. It didn’t take much to talk me in to it and you see me here ruining California Girls by The Beach Boys.

Our route march across the city had cost us our drinking time here and because Japanese trains are ruthless in their efficiency we soon had to make tracks.

However that was not before Fabian had taken his turn on the microphone singing Winds of Change by The Scorpions, with myself and members of the Yakuza on backing harmonies and whistling.

The trains are very cheap but taxis are incredibly expensive so we didn’t want to get stung and had no energy left to walk after our earlier march in the heat. Leaving the Yakuza begging for more we literally had to run to ensure we caught the last train back across town. 

We laughed all the way back, not least at the number of Tokyo residents who manage to do a bit more than nod off on the train home.

Ninjas were Japan’s most feared warriors, employed by lords as assassins and spies they practised Ninjitsu or the art of stealth. It is believed they have honed their skills since the twelfth century.

With a bit of eavesdropping of my own at the hostel I have heard about a Ninja restaurant here in Tokyo, so I had to pay it a visit, making sure I dressed in black to fit in.

I have been joined on this quest by Fabian from Nuremburg in Germany and we take a few trains across town to Akasaka. With relative ease we find the restaurant, which appropriately is identified only by this sign against a blackened wall.

On the way in we need to completed the Ninja training path, which involves sneaking through trapdoors and summoning a drawbridge.

The training path brings you to this historical village set deep underground, where we are shown to our booth.

The Maitre’D then utters a phrase I thought I would never hear in my lifetime. “Your ninja will be with you shortly”.

The food was fantastic, but I can admit to being a little disappointed not to find turtle on the menu. Foie gras was served with crackers shaped like shuriken (throwing stars) and some soup was cooked in front of us in a bamboo dish using hot stones.

All the while the presentation was perfect, apart from them having forgotten to serve me my soup dish and only realising this as I was tucking into my dessert. I’m not sure why, but instead of just knocking it off my bill they sent a ninja out with the soup who stood menacingly over me until I had consumed it. 

All of which was rather intimidating, and as a result I can confirm that mushroom soup and ice cream do not mix well together!

However it is a great start to my last night in Tokyo, and having completed our training experience here are Fabian and I posing in ninjas stance in the village.

It is still early so we decide to see what other mischief we can find.

I am supposed to be surfing whilst on this trip so need to get out of Tokyo and back to the coast. However I was unaware prior to arriving here exactly how close the damaged reactors at Fukushima were to Tokyo itself.

It is less than two hundred miles away, which isn’t exactly next door, but is certainly giving me pause for thought about where on the pacific coast I should get into the water. Especially because of all the highly radioactive water leaks which have just been running into the ocean from the reactors, even within the last few weeks.

It may well be the opportunity I always wanted as a child to develop a super power of my own, but in the interest of my own longevity I think I will head south and see how I get on down there. The Toxic Anger wouldn’t be what I had in mind.

I do not know if I will get off the main island of Honshu due to time constraints, but hopefully I will find a break or two that can help me to make my surfboard glow in the dark.

It is time for some more sightseeing and I am joined on my travels by a French girl called Emilie, who is staying in the same hostel. Here she is putting on her most photogenic visage for the camera.

First up we head to a restaurant which has been recommended in the Asakusa area. We are shown to our miniature table and then offered green tea while we look at the menu.

The restaurant specialises in Tempura which is seafood fried in a crisp batter, but somehow we end up with a version soaked in soy sauce which is not really that pleasant, even if it is filling.

From there it is a short walk through the market streets to the Dembo-ji temple founded in the seventeenth century to enshrine a golden image of the goddess of mercy, Kannon.

The craftsmanship that has gone into the buildings is amazing, but the temple is somewhat overpowered by all the office and residential blocks which have been built up around it.

Next we take the metro across town to the Ginza area which is full of high end retail brands and Emilie has heard that there are art galleries in many of them. We visit the eight floor of the stunning Hermes building, whose walls are made of glass bricks where we see an exhibition entitled The Mattress and The Wardrobe.

One of the exhibits entails the two of us being asked to take our shoes off and then be shut into a darkened cupboard made of veneer thickness wood. Inside there is a distorted mirror and a chair, and on top of the cupboard is a paisley cushion with lots of rope threaded through it. I will never understand art!

A short walk from here are the manicured garden of Hibiya Koen, which were the first public gardens created in Tokyo.

Even in the drizzling rain it is an oasis of calm in a very busy city and a beautiful place to be.

Across the road is the start of the grounds of the Imperial Palace, which is home to Emporer Akihito. After the second world war it has become a largely ceremonial position, in much the same way as the British monarchy.

The palace is only open two days a year for the people to pay homage to the Emporer, and even then the public is only allowed a short way into the grounds. This view was the best vista that I saw while in the area.

The two of us were shattered by this stage and in need of a pick me up. we decided to head for Roppongi which is supposed to be a happening part of the city that is full of bars and clubs.

However like the Japanese themselves it was really quiet and we couldn’t hear any suggestion of night life whilst in the area. Eventually we stopped at an Italian restaurant which was at least full of people. However we were served the worst mojito I have ever tasted there and neither of us wanted to stick around and be disappointed with over priced food too, so we headed back across town for a few drinks back at the hostel.