Tokyo Town
Tuesday, August 18th, 2009
posted by Simon Buckley @ 01:38:30 AM
My First impression of Tokyo, in the airport was ‘Intergalactic’. I was knackered, and I was meeting my friend Karen at the airport at 3pm, so I didn’t see much point heading into town (a couple of hours travel away), until she arrived. I had a few US dollars left to change into Yen, but that was it, as there was no ATM’s that accepted international cards (that were working anyway). Slept, ate and waited. Todd headed off to a hostel in town.
After Karen arrived we headed for the Sakura hotel in Ikeuberu, near the city centre, and happening. Vending machines, intergalactic and lights everywhere. For those who don’t get the intergalactic reference, there was a film clip for a song called intergalactic by the Beastie Boys that featured workmen wearing flashing reflective vests, rubber boots, white overalls and hardhats Japanese style, and it is really like that. So delightfully safe and organized. Whereas the safety people around worksites in other parts of the world might lean on a stop/go lollypop, smoking a cigarette and looking largely disinterested, the ‘Tokyo Team’, as I like to think of them, take it very seriously, blowing their whistles and waving their flags, helmets done up and boots shiny, with a real purpose. Intergalactic.
Wandering around town it was apparent that not many people spoke English, and that my Japanese phrases of “My Name is Simon”, “Please drink Beer”, “good morning” and “thank you” were not going to get me fed. Lucky for me, menus were often real size plastic replicas of the meals in cabinets at the front door. Simple, bizarre and perfect.
Shopping in Tokyo, well in Japan, is an interesting affair. I haven’t quite put my finger on the intricacies of how it works, but whenever you walk into a shop, restaurant, bar, whatever – all of the staff pronounce hello to you. I think they are saying “Mushi Mushi….”, in a way that makes you feel like they have been waiting for you. One person might spot you as you walk in, and then all of the staff follow suit. It really is an interesting phenomenon to behold. Customer service in general is amazing in Japan. From the welcome you get in a shop, to the fact that there are conductors on train stations and people fill up you tank at petrol stations and everyone respects you. There is no tipping culture (in so much as I don’t tip and it doesn’t appear to cause much of an issue, so forgive me if I am supposed to be tipping), just a genuine respect for the customer. If you ask for directions or information, you get the whole packet, maps phone calls, people walk you around. It is amazing. There have been a few expats that have said things like “nice to visit but hard to live” and other such comments, but the same people have been living here for years!
So what did we have to get organized in Japan, because it isn’t a holiday, this motorbike stuff is pretty hard work. The bikes were arriving into port in Osaka, and we had to sort out our Russian visas. Also to get the bikes through customs we had to visit the JAF (Japanese Auto Federation) office to get paperwork done. The shipping agent quoted 197 000Yen ($2500 AUD)to do all the work, so we expected it to be pretty difficult. After I found the office in Tokyo, all I had to do was hand over the carnet and come back later and sign for it. Done. But there had to be a catch. No, the only problem was that Todd had to sign for his own carnet and he wasn’t with me. Carnet authentication – Check!
Up the Tokyo tower after that. I met Todd around dusk at the tower and we went for a look. Big City is Tokyo. For a country of 120Million people, I expected Tokyo to be bigger than 12 million, but it is still impressive at night. It’s all about lights, vending machines and of course, intergalactic. There was a mini concert happening in the tower, and I finally got to see how Japanese people show respect by closing their eyes when listening. I read about it in the context of someone giving a speech and the Japanese people in the front rows sat there with their eyes closed. The speaker found it quite rude, but in truth it is just so they can better concentrate on what was being said, or in this case sung!
Over the next days we visited the party favourites, Shinjuku and Shibuya. Shibuya, where there are about 10 roads that intersect and when the pedestrian lights change to green it is like a scramble, in fact that’s what I was told they call it, the Shibuya scramble. I managed to pick up a pretty fantastic floral number at a second hand store, in fact two shirts fitted and I bought them both. The pockets of my shorts have pretty much fallen out and I wanted some new ones, but haven’t been able to find a pair of cargo shorts anywhere in Japan that will fit. I’m big in Japan.
At home I worked with a program that the City of Melbourne runs called the Melbourne Greeter Service, where a volunteer takes out small groups of visitors on an orientation of the city (not a tour!!), and the visitor sees it from a locals point of view. There is a similar program running
After an unfruitful shopping experience (although Karen did find her bag), we headed to an authentic Japanese restaurant to sample authentic Japanese fare. There was good, reasonable and fantastic. There was sake and beer. It was mostly fish, and Todd picked away at the garnishing.
Okanami Yaki , the dish that is like a big potato cake (not quite that simple) was a rare thing in Tokyo. We all wanted a crack at it, but we couldn’t find it anywhere. Aren and I managed, with the help of a tout from another restaurant, who walked us to the restaurant (bizarre). The place had a little hotplate on the table and we were stoked that it would be cooked right there in front of us. Such hard work to find, but so good to eat. The starter, some kind of deep fried fatty seafood balls, was awesome, as was the main event and the dessert was an ice-cream sandwich (the kind with wafers). Awesome feed, and another box ticked. It was time to head south to Osaka and get our bikes back!
Singapore Stylin'
Saturday, August 15th, 2009
posted by Simon Buckley @ 10:02:20 PM
What is very helpful and makes you somewhat lazy about Asia, is that you never wash your own clothes. Most guest houses offer a service, and if they don’t, the place next door does. All you have to do is bring a bag of smelly dirty clothes (they probably don’t have to smell too bad, but mine always did), weigh it and pay, and then pick it up at the required time, clean and folded. I wanted to make sure I was all sorted and clean for the trip to Japan, so I had the guest house do my laundry, all of it such that all that wasn’t being washed I had on. Done, I would return, pick up my clean gear, whack it in my bag and head to the train.
Such a clever plan, so poorly executed. It seems that a ‘new staff member’ had neglected to put my clothes into the dryer until I turned up to pick it up, and it needed a couple of minutes. I waited until the absolute death knock when I had to rush to make the train, but it made little difference, I was taking wet clothes with me to Japan.
The washing incident made us rush for the train, and unlike Thai sleeper trains, Malaysian trains arrived and left on time and we made it just in time, sweaty with a bag of wet clothes (Todd opted for dry smelly clothes). I hung them all around my sleeper using string that I asked the ‘new staff member’ for at the guest house and headed for the restaurant car to set up camp, plug in my phone and computer (behind the counter was the only power point, thanks guys) and grab an overpriced train feed.
Walking up from the overnight train stop into town, I stopped a Singaporean couple to ask them for directions to the subway, and they ended up taking me to a hawker centre and shouting me breakfast. Todd is not a fan of fish, or mystery soup that could contain fish so he headed for his old favouried burger King for a feed, whilst I hung out with the local crew eating mystery soup.
Singapore was everything I expected. Clean, organized and polite. Arriving early in the morning we headed into town to have a wander around. At the main train station in town we were told that there was no where to leave our bags for the day, but a porter at the hotel adjoining the hotel was happy to help (I never take no for an answer, unless of course it is the answer I want), and wandered around town.
Todd headed for the Internet and I went exploring, down to the waterfront, through some museums and on to Raffles. I did let myself have a Singapore Sling at Raffles hotel. Funnily enough, the place was full of tourists doing exactly the same thing. Not the cheapest place for a drink, the sling and a beer to wash it down and regain my masculinity came to around $50.
At the airport Todd went wandering around the terminal, and I headed for the Airport Lounge for a shower and a beer. A one day membership cost about $50, so I hooked in, having two showers, a few beers and countless plates of ‘snack’ food; my rationale - after three plates it ceases to be snack food and becomes a meal. I took the opportunity to hang out my wet clothes again, probably not entirely appropriate, but a necessary evil. A three hour stopover at KL airport we were on our way to Japan. Yatta!
Back to the Big Smoke!
Saturday, August 15th, 2009
posted by Simon Buckley @ 09:47:20 PM
After leaving the sanctuary of the island, we took an overnight bus to KL, and arrived back at the same place we were staying last time we were there with a couple of new friends from the bus trip in tow. Unfortunately they were full, but they had a ‘sister guesthouse’ that could put us up for the night. Todd and our new friends were having a nap, so I headed down to ‘Best Friends Massage' where they have the fish that hook into the dead skin on your feet to get another massage, and was lucky enough to get gary, the same fella that I had when I was last in KL.
Returning to the guest house I ran into Todd and the team at a Lebanese restaurant, and even though I wasn’t at all hungry, the thought of some Lebanese food drew me in. I also got in trouble, because using my limited Arabic I gave the guy the impression that I could actually speak well, and he proclaimed me his brother and the feast began. It is never cheap eating at Lebanese restaurant, but it was worth it.
We were pretty much in KL for the sole reason to see if we could re route our Malaysian Airlines flight from Singapore to Tokyo. The flight went from Singapore to KL and then onto Tokyo, so it made sense that we would be able to pick it up in KL. Easy. Everybody wins. We don’t have to head from KL to Singapore to catch a flight back to KL, and the airline doesn’t have to feed two Aussie blokes. I had no luck on the phone, and the Malaysia Airlines office had moved recently, such that the tourist information bureau didn’t know and sent me on a wild goose chase for a couple of hours. I gave up and resolved to find the office later in the day and plead my case. In the meantime I wanted to SSS (shower and shave), and look for a new MP3 player.
After I got Todd moving thinking that the office probably finished about 5pm, we hit the office about 4:50pm, to find that it opened until 10pm. I tried everything to get the flight changes, standing around, not taking no for an answer, asking the boss, asking them to make phone calls to check, but they had it over me in the end, because the fares were booked online, they had to speak to the online department, and it was now 5:15pm on Friday night. They finished at 5. I got the feeling that the consultant that was helping us out did really do all she could, and that she would have if she could have so I headed downstairs (the new office was at the main train station in KL) to book a sleeper to Singapore. I figures that if I had to go to Singapore I may as well have a day to look around and try the obligatory Singapore Sling and Raffles Hotel!
Paradise Island
Saturday, August 15th, 2009
posted by Simon Buckley @ 09:43:20 PM
The last two seats were at the back over the engine and exhaust brake, and my seat squeeked at me for the whole 6 hours. When we got to the port at Chumporn we had to wait 5 hours for the ferry. Seamless! The ferry was pretty rough, and there were quite a few green people hanging off the back of the boat. It also had a pretty short roof, and I am pretty used to hitting my head, but a combination of a head hit and wave and I was sitting in the lap of the Israeli woman in the chair next to me. Shalom.
So we arrived back on Koh Phangan, hit up the Coral Bungalows. We met a tout at the port and got chatting, and I suggested that even though we knew where we were going, we would say that he sent us so he could collect the commission. No skin off my nose. “you have to say you have never been there before or I won’t get the commission!”, no worries, it’s not like anyone would remember two guys on motorbikes running around the place. We checked in and I got away with it, Todd still had the room number sticker on his passport, and all of the girls in reception remembered him. Not sure what happened with the guys commission.
A few days on Koh Phangan and the team we had been travelling with were keen to hit up the Perhentian Islands of Malaysia, as was I. Not disappointed. A ferry ride, overnight train, border, taxi and speedboat later and we were in paradise. Idyllic location for a few days of nothing, just finish my book and relax. Jess and Sam were on the ferry over from Koh Phangan. We got talking and it turned out that Jess was interested in the book I was reading about Logotherapy. It was so random that I promised to finish the book and pass it on. They were heading to the same place a couple of days later and gave me a tip for a guest house. It turned out that the tip was for a place in KL, so I offered to book them a place on the island as in high season and accommodation was scarce. By the time I asked about it everything was full, so I talked the guy where we were staying into to finding them a bed, and they ended up in a new room that was being used as a store room. Stoked, everybody happy and I was able to allay my guilt!
Getting over to the island was an interesting affair, coming from Thailand where everything is negotiable, it was strange that there was one price for the speedboat to the island and that was all. When we got close though, we had to switch to another taxi boat to take us the 50m into shore. I mean we could have jumped out and walked it. It was all a little mafia to me, but we were in paradise and nothing mattered. We ended up in a room of 5, Fi, Scotty, Sadhbh, Todd and myself, with a fan and shower but it was really hot and sticky before five people stayed in the one room.
In the bar that night we met a Swedish family there for a diving holiday who told us about the Tsunami warning for 6am in the morning, and how to get to the highest point of the island. I set about trying to find out if I should be worried asking locals and no one seemed to be taking it seriously. The word was that there was an underwater earthquake somewhere offshore and that it might result in a high tide, or nothing at all. It can’t have been too devastating, because I slept through it. Still, the story that we survived the tsunami that night will no doubt be told in bars across the world over the next few months!
We were on the island for a few days, and there was an interesting phenomenon that occurred about 4pm each afternoon. Speedboats would ferry people from the mainland, and the taxis would extort fares for the 50m ride to the shore and then people would wander around looking for somewhere to stay. There was no way to book from the mainland, you just had to turn up and try your luck, and for many they were out of luck. It was interesting that there isn’t the room stock, or that the prices hadn’t raised to meet the demand as per most other similar places. There was no way to let the people on the mainland know that there was no room, but even if there was I am sure that the ‘family’ would prevent it so the taxi boats could pick up fares taking the homeless to other islands to look for accommodation. The whole system seemed to work, somehow, and life went on as you would expect on a beautiful tropical island.
Bike Free Week
Bike Shipping
Friday, August 7th, 2009
posted by Simon Buckley @ 12:08:42 AM
A few hours kip and we were on the job to get our bikes to Japan. Of the 100 or so people I contacted regarding shipping, about 10 got back to me. Of them about 6 were positive, so I called them. Of the 6, I couldn’t make sense of the phone system for 2 of them, one didn’t speak any English, one was going to call me back and I made appointments with a couple of them for the next day.
Mr Pichai came to the hotel to meet with us, and he was a regular, fair dunkum, struth ya flaming mongrel grouse fella. We had a coffee and sorted out what we needed to do. He couldn’t give us a full run down on the price at this stage, nor could we make the ship on the 14th, but the packing needed to be done that day in time to get the boat on the 21st. We headed down to the packing place in awful traffic, there was one red light that lasted about 8 minutes. And it was HOT. We got close and gave the yard a call and they came to pick us up. I was entertained by a bunch of motorcycle taxi guys making jokes about my feet in Thai (never gets old!)
The yard was under the expressway and the front gate was a pot plant on a trolley, no chance we would have made it without them. We arrived and were greeted by a selection of drinks and set about giving the bikes a wash, with the help of all of the staff.
It was an interesting experience at the packing place, the boss didn’t speak English, and communicated with us by feeding us fruit. We went back to the yard a few times over the next couple of days, and we ate a lot of fruit. One time the bossman actually got on his motorbike and disappeared then returned with a selection of tropical fruit. That bit was cool. The fact that I spent the whole afternoon there waiting for something to happen and nothing did, not so good. If you haven’t tried Durian, don’t bother. It is pretty expensive, and smells like my old footy socks. It tastes a bit like dirty sock / rotten cheese flavoured custard.
As it turned out, the bikes were crated on the Wednesday, no real hurry. I mean, we could have held onto them, but it was actually good to be ‘bikeless’ for a while, no concern with thieves and parking. We were like old friends when we left the packing place, good bunch of guys, and great fruit. I was still chasing a figure from Mr. Pichai regarding the cost of the shipping, but he couldn’t help until the ship had accepted the cargo and it was measured. We were keen to head back down to the Islands, and we were waiting for the paperwork for a couple of days. He ended up sending a messenger with the paperwork who arrived about 7:30pm, too late to get a bus to Surat Thani, and the train was full. We wandered around for a while asking travel agents if anyone could help. One thing about somewhere like Bangkok is that you will always get the answer you want, you have to just keep asking.
A guesthouse travel desk had the last two seats on the expensive bus/boat combo leaving in five minutes, and although we had already paid for the night Todd was pretty keen to get moving so we ran back grabbed our gear, checked out and headed for the bus.
Laos - Heading North
Thursday, August 6th, 2009
posted by Simon Buckley @ 11:06:53 PM
Light but unrelenting the rain was the order of the day. We left Vang Vieng around lunchtime and made for the drive to Luang Prabang. The crew were on a bus that took around 8 hours, and we planned to meet them there that evening. Beautiful roads and amazing views the whole way.
It was almost surreal as you came around bends amazing vistas would reveal themselves, sheer rock formations coming out of pristine jungle, all framed by a mist from the rain. Beautiful, the kind of beautiful that a little camera like mine just can’t do it justice. I thought about pulling over on a few occasions but made the decision to make this mine and just enjoy the view.
Even though the view was amazing, and the road well made and challenging, it was still raining. Unless you are wearing a plastic bag you are going to get wet. I was saturated, sweat from one way and rain from the other. In my own little world though, somehow satisfied. About 15km from town, we were stopped by police who shut the road for an accident, for two hours, in the rain, so close to the end. Spent the time ‘chatting’ (a term that includes drawing pictures, making gestures and making every effort to understand each other) with the locals who were all out to see the accident. It was no big deal, but as I understood it the police have to undertake a thorough investigation if they are called.
We finally arrived at the guesthouse about 7 oclock, and all I wanted to do was have a shower and relax. Some might say that I am somewhat anti-establishment, or disestablishmentarian, or contrarian, anyway I don’t want to own an IPod, just because everybody else does. Great piece of kit and the white headphones are an amazing marketing coup, but I don’t want to succumb. To that end, when we were in Darwin I bought a little voice recorder and mp3 player in one. Perfect and I planned to attach a microphone inside my helmet so I could record my thoughts as I rode along. It was about $400 but I justified the expense by not buying an IPod! Two hours in the rain was not healthy for the recorder, it died a steamy death in my pocket that fateful day in the rain. Se la vie.
Back to Bankers
Todd wanted a couple of days R&R in Luang Prabang, so rather than head up to the Golden Triangle and back into Thailand and heading south, we decided to relax for a couple of days and head straight to Bangkok and sort out shipping the bikes. For some reason “when do you need the cargo to make the ship on the 14th?” was a question that was just too difficult to answer on the phone or by email.
My intention was to actually stand in front of someone and ask the question, so back to Bangkok it was. The plan was to head back the way we had come to Vientiane, stay the night at the border then make a good day of it and get to Bangkok the next day. We hit the border around 9pm. It was actually about 40km from town so we went to the border to ask what time they opened, so we could make an early start and smash it all the way to Bangkok. It was about 800km.
Given there was not much around the border in the way of accommodation, we decided to deal with the border formalities then and there, it was quiet after all then find somewhere to stay on the other side. Spent a while waiting for ‘out’ stamps for the Carnets (international registration for the bikes), which tends to throw a spanner in the works at most border crossings. The first guy to look at it just signed it (in the wrong spot) and went to send me off. I explained I needed an official stamp of exit so I could then enter into Thailand. No one knew where the stamp was, and they asked me to just wait in the box. I decided , after about 40mins of not seeing anyone, to just stand around and make a nuisance of myself until someone actually had a look for the stamp. Bingo, my loud shirt made the place look a little untidy and they sorted it out pretty quickly.
Thai Customs and immigration is a well oiled machine and before you knew it we were back in Thailand with a new plan. “Let’s put a few KM’s under our belt, and stop in a town about 50-60km in to Thailand, get a hotel and make an early start in the morning!”. We arrived in Bangkok at around 6:30am. A few km’s under our belt ended up being 800.