Nagoya
The customs officials will love me. I board planes that will go from Fukuoka to Taipei to Hong Kong to Nagoya. So, a flight that might take one hour, takes all day. The Cathay Pacific meals are excellent-- Japanese fish dishes, twice. The movie, "Coach Carter", captures the vitalty of high school students, which is impressive. At Taipei, I exchange my four day old alarm clock for one that works. I wonder how much repeat business airport kiosks get, since the lady at the counter doesn`t know what to do until she makes a call. The plane lands at 9:05 p.m., as promised. Customs opens my bags and reviews the contents thoroughly, but since I am first in line, and since we do not go to a special little room, their review goes faster.
There are signs in English, but they are not as easy for me to interpret as at Fukuoka or Osaka. I guess wrong which train is departing for Nagoya Station, and have to ask for help. Once I am on the train, I am not still not confident, but I do guess correctly which station to get off. I walk around with a map looking for the Wellbe Capsule Hotel. I confuse "B" with "8" on the map, and an older man at a convenience store is very patient helping me. I find Wellbe and am told that my reservation is at a different Wellbe, two stations away. "The subway closes at midnight, so you`d better hurry." The subway is closed, and I walk. A younger man gestures that he wants to drink with me. He speaks to me in English and French, but I go past, feigning that I don't speak any language. I check my map. I have nine blocks straight, then three more blocks to the right. I see Caucasian men and women who are speaking English, but we don't speak to each other. Men in business suits walk past. Younger people are also on the street. As I am walking past Hilton hotels, and the like, I feel pretty safe.
There is no Wellbe where I think it will be. A convenience store worker in stylish torn jeans pulls out a plot map, and shows me the precise one block and one half that I need to go. It is 1 a.m., but the Wellbe patrons (men only) are still taking public baths. I am tired, so I go to my capsule. I flip channels on the TV. Then, I wonder if it is possible to pull a capsule behind my VW Beetle and to travel the US.
I am not sure if I will stay in Nagoya for the rest of my trip or not. The "Rough Guide" describes Nagoya as a "fly-over" city, but one with nice people. I like it that people are dressed just a little bit more casually. The Nagoya Dragons are in Hokkaido, so I have to go to Tokyo if I want to see baseball. I prefer to fly to Hong Kong and spend a few days there rather than to go to Tokyo for a second time.
Osaka has a "Harajuka" type area where rock bands and punk bands perform. (Tokyo closed down the actual Harajuka teen meeting place.) Some of the Osaka bands demonstrate personality, but the park was lightly attended. Rock bands and punk bands may not be fashionable right now.
Hip Hop magazines, only in English, are available here. Next to the Fukuoka train station, I notice a man wearing baggy hip hop pants. He is the only local following this trend that I notice, until I walk past the "Canal City" mall and find "Jays Hip Hop from LA, New York" which has three customers inside.
Japan has a fashion culture. A teenage girl from Osaka beams at me when she shows off her "Hello Kitty" bag, which is placed, with two other designer bags, inside a see-through plastic portfolio. Hair is dyed a reddish shade of brown. Women tell me that they are afraid of gaining weight. Prime Minister Mr. Junichiro Koizumi wears a perm.
This morning, I see a thirty year old Caucasian man with a designer briefcase and an extreme Afro. I wonder if my long hair and casual dress stands out even more.
The Nagoya TV tower has a glass elevator. I walk past. In Central Park, I see stars on the sidewalk labelled Bob Hope, etc. Nagoya, fourth largest city in Japan, is a sister city to LA. (Fukuoka is a sister city to Oakland.) The whole city seems to be gearing up for Expo 2005, which starts just after I leave. The main art museum is closed while they install a new exhibit. It seems like everyone who works at a convenience store has been polishing their English. I ask questions in Tarzan English and get complete sentence replies. I watch a military band, on a stage at Oasis 21, perform Disney songs, like "Zip A Dee Doo Da". Actually, they are good. The toilet seat in the public restroom is heated. It is hard to describe just how clean this city is.
There are signs in English, but they are not as easy for me to interpret as at Fukuoka or Osaka. I guess wrong which train is departing for Nagoya Station, and have to ask for help. Once I am on the train, I am not still not confident, but I do guess correctly which station to get off. I walk around with a map looking for the Wellbe Capsule Hotel. I confuse "B" with "8" on the map, and an older man at a convenience store is very patient helping me. I find Wellbe and am told that my reservation is at a different Wellbe, two stations away. "The subway closes at midnight, so you`d better hurry." The subway is closed, and I walk. A younger man gestures that he wants to drink with me. He speaks to me in English and French, but I go past, feigning that I don't speak any language. I check my map. I have nine blocks straight, then three more blocks to the right. I see Caucasian men and women who are speaking English, but we don't speak to each other. Men in business suits walk past. Younger people are also on the street. As I am walking past Hilton hotels, and the like, I feel pretty safe.
There is no Wellbe where I think it will be. A convenience store worker in stylish torn jeans pulls out a plot map, and shows me the precise one block and one half that I need to go. It is 1 a.m., but the Wellbe patrons (men only) are still taking public baths. I am tired, so I go to my capsule. I flip channels on the TV. Then, I wonder if it is possible to pull a capsule behind my VW Beetle and to travel the US.
I am not sure if I will stay in Nagoya for the rest of my trip or not. The "Rough Guide" describes Nagoya as a "fly-over" city, but one with nice people. I like it that people are dressed just a little bit more casually. The Nagoya Dragons are in Hokkaido, so I have to go to Tokyo if I want to see baseball. I prefer to fly to Hong Kong and spend a few days there rather than to go to Tokyo for a second time.
Osaka has a "Harajuka" type area where rock bands and punk bands perform. (Tokyo closed down the actual Harajuka teen meeting place.) Some of the Osaka bands demonstrate personality, but the park was lightly attended. Rock bands and punk bands may not be fashionable right now.
Hip Hop magazines, only in English, are available here. Next to the Fukuoka train station, I notice a man wearing baggy hip hop pants. He is the only local following this trend that I notice, until I walk past the "Canal City" mall and find "Jays Hip Hop from LA, New York" which has three customers inside.
Japan has a fashion culture. A teenage girl from Osaka beams at me when she shows off her "Hello Kitty" bag, which is placed, with two other designer bags, inside a see-through plastic portfolio. Hair is dyed a reddish shade of brown. Women tell me that they are afraid of gaining weight. Prime Minister Mr. Junichiro Koizumi wears a perm.
This morning, I see a thirty year old Caucasian man with a designer briefcase and an extreme Afro. I wonder if my long hair and casual dress stands out even more.
The Nagoya TV tower has a glass elevator. I walk past. In Central Park, I see stars on the sidewalk labelled Bob Hope, etc. Nagoya, fourth largest city in Japan, is a sister city to LA. (Fukuoka is a sister city to Oakland.) The whole city seems to be gearing up for Expo 2005, which starts just after I leave. The main art museum is closed while they install a new exhibit. It seems like everyone who works at a convenience store has been polishing their English. I ask questions in Tarzan English and get complete sentence replies. I watch a military band, on a stage at Oasis 21, perform Disney songs, like "Zip A Dee Doo Da". Actually, they are good. The toilet seat in the public restroom is heated. It is hard to describe just how clean this city is.
Labels: travel
posted by David Rasmussen at 12:42 AM
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