A small garden in the Todoroki Ravine Park
Breakfast at my hotel in Ueno. I had the pancake for this morning's repast:
As I wrote in the
previous post there are very few must-see sights or things to do remaining for me in Tōkyō 東京. Instead, feeling as
natsukashii 懐かしい as I was the day before I set off to seek out yet another old residence of mine. This one was located in Setagaya Ward 世田谷区, or to narrow it down, in the Kaminoge 上野毛 area. The station there had been rebuilt in 2011, 17 years after I'd moved out. Designed by none other than
Tadao Andō 安藤忠雄, it bears little resemblance to the unremarkable little station I used to use on an almost daily basis. Further evidence that neighborhoods get better once I'm gone:
"Tax the Rich". An idea I could get behind were I eligible to vote in Japan. This is a poster for a candidate from the
Japanese Communist Party 日本共産党. The city I moved to from Kaminoge was
Komae 狛江市. During the time I lived there Komae was under the authoritarian thumb of a Communist mayor. All private property was seized by the city, and anyone who objected was shipped off to a gulag. Fortunately he was ousted in a bloodless coup in 2012 and Komae is now safely back in the hands of the Establishment:
My old アパート. I used to live in the ground level unit. It was the first apartment where I lived alone, sans roommates, and I loved it. It was a standard 1K, meaning there was a six-tatami mat room, as well as a small kitchen and a UB (Unit Bath - toilet and bathtub/shower in the same room). The building was already 20 or so years old at the time I moved in, meaning it must be approaching sixty years of age, but it still looks habitable. Over time I made my rabbit hutch more comfortable, buying a bookcase and covering the tatami mats with carpeting. The final step was having an air conditioner installed - until then I had somehow managed to make it through several hot and humid Japanese summers with nothing more than an electric fan to keep me cool (and only an electric blanket and a space heater for the chilly winters).
Two things kept me living there instead of moving upscale. One was location - the neighborhood was very nice, with the Tama River 多摩川 being a relatively short walk away and convenient train connections to Jiyūgaoka 自由が丘 and Shibuya 渋谷. There was even an
art museum with an attractive garden about eight minutes away on foot that I would occasionally visit. Setagaya itself is probably the most comfortable of Tōkyō's
23 wards due to its greenery and quiet suburban feel.
The other factor was cost. During a period when Tōkyō's property prices were still extremely high as a result of the
asset price bubble I was only paying ¥63,000 in rent, just $630 or so at that time. Now, thanks to the weak yen, that rent would only be around $400 USD!:
The other reason for revisiting old haunts was to see the
Todoroki-keikoku 等々力渓谷 again. Tōkyō's sole remaining natural ravine (or valley, or gorge,depending on the translation), I would go there from time to time (only a 17-minute walk or one station away from Kaminoge) for a brief respite from Tōkyō's concrete jungle. It was rarely busy, and some Japanese people I asked had never even heard of it, even though they lived not too far away. I don't recall ever seeing another Westerner there whenever I visited. The trail begins at the Golf Bridge ゴルフ橋:
However, I began to notice a distressing trend beginning two or three years ago. Those dreaded foreign influencers and content creators started to post about Todoroki-keikoku, applying the kiss of death - a "hidden gem" located "off the beaten path". I had to see for myself if things had changed as a result. On a drizzly Friday morning there was only a handful of visitors walking along the Yazawa River. However, half of them were people who looked like me, and there was even one older
gaijin couple being led about by a local guide, as if the ravine was in a remote location and the only way to find it was to utilize insider knowledge, instead of being a short walk from Todoroki Station 等々力駅.
At least the gorge wasn't overrun with visitors, Japanese or otherwise. It remains a pleasant walk (especially when the climate is more cooperative). The valley is home to some horizontal
kofun 古墳 (ancient burial tombs) dating from the late
Kofun 古墳時代 to
Nara 奈良時代periods:
How a
kofun looked back in the day...:
...versus what you can see today. There are some
kofun in the
Kinki region 近畿地方 that are larger in volume than even the Egyptian pyramids, though this clearly wasn't one of them. The practice died out (no pun intended) with the introduction of Buddhism to Japan in the 6th century CE, leading to cremation becoming the preferred method of dealing with the dead:
The Fudō Falls 不動滝 are/were used for
takigyō 滝行, an ancient spiritual and physical discipline practice where participants stand directly beneath a cold, cascading waterfall. I've never actually seen anyone engaging in this practice here:
The grandiosely-named Todoroki Japanese Gardens 等々力渓谷内日本庭園 is actually just a small, though pleasant garden:
At the top of a short staircase leading away from the ravine is the main grounds of the
Todoroki Fudōson Temple 等々力不動尊. There were only a few visitors here, but again about half of them were
gaijin like me:
Time brings changes and I need to keep up with them, as does the Todoroki 等々力 area itself (I once considered moving into an apartment not far from the southern end of the ravine), though I hope it remains the quiet neighborhood that I remember from decades gone by. But int the meantime I had places to go and people to see, so I moved on and back to Ikebukuro 池袋. Outside the east side of the station I saw this "Taiwanese Castella" shop.
Castella カステラ is a Japanese honey sponge cake, though it was introduced in Nagasaki 長崎 in the 16th century by Portuguese missionaries and traders. It would've been interesting to sample the Taiwanese take on this treat...:
...but I had a lunch date with another old friend, this time at an
okonomiyaki お好み焼き restaurant:
I've known Aviva for 36 years, dating back to when we both teaching (and in her case, training) at ECC, one of the largest
Eikaiwa 英会話 school chains in Japan (and one of the few to survive the down years of the late 1990s when the Japanese economy stagnated after the asset bubble had burst). The
last time we had met was in June of 2023, when my daughter joined us for lunch (also in Ikebukuro). I'm happy to report that she is still her cheerful, outgoing self and I hope that never changes:
After a brief return to my hotel in Ueno 上野 for a short rest, social gadfly that I am I was out and about again, this time to meet another old EEC friend for dinner in Yūrakuchō 有楽町. While waiting for Wes, I snapped this photo of a small Shintō shrine 神社 located opposite the
izakaya 居酒屋 where he had made a reservation:
Located under the train tracks,
Andy's Shin Hinomoto 新日の基 was a great call by Wes. I was not satisfied with the photo of the exterior of Andy's that I took so I've "borrowed" this one:
Andy's is a long-running establishment in the Yūrakuchō area, with origins stretching back to 1946 from what I could find on the Internet. Andy, the current owner, is a native of England who married into the family and took over the helm from his father-in-law. The grub was great, especially the seafood, and the lively atmosphere as the place soon filled up at the end of the working day was conducive to a great evening of catching up:
As I noted above Wes is another friend from my Tōkyō English teaching days. Looking back at our
last crossing of paths, it was also three years ago, in the evening after having had lunch with Aviva earlier in the day. History repeats itself, though this time Amber couldn't join us:
My last full day in Japan found me once again in Shibuya, a district I used to know very well through work and personal connections, but which has been undergoing a massive redevelopment project in recent years that has eradicated several once-familiar buildings:
Hachikō ハチ公 is still there, of course, but as the curmudgeon in me likes to remind people, back in my day if you wanted a photo with the mutt you just walked up to it and had someone take your picture, without any need to wait in a queue:
The reason I was in Shibuya was to meet up with yet another friend, this time at a Turkish restaurant called
Kebab Chefs ケバブシェフス渋谷:
I've known Doug for around 25 years, when the two of us were studying Japanese at a school in Okazaki City 岡崎市, in Aichi Prefecture 愛知県. After lunch we took a long stroll, first from Shibuya to Harajuku 原宿, and from there around Yoyogi Park 代々木公園, stopping at one point for a coffee and ice cream break:
Touching base these past few days with Doug, Wes, Aviva and Jun (see the
most previous post) was the best way to finish up what had been yet another enjoyable visit to Japan. But as they supposedly say in France
Rien de dure; soon it was time to wrap things up in Tōkyō and *
sigh* prepare to return to China. With a relatively early morning flight the next day, I had booked a room in a
hotel at Haneda Airport 羽田空港. Before checking in there I had my final dinner at the airport, a
karaage から揚げ set to go with a 生ビール:
As I was able to access the Hotel Villa Fontaine Grand Haneda Airport ホテルヴィラフォンテーヌグランド羽田空港 directly from Terminal 3 I couldn't see how large of a building it was. The length of the corridor on my floor provided a clue, however:
Sunrise on the final morning as seen from my room:
My plane took the scenic route from the terminal to the runway. Kawasaki's 川崎 industrial complex could be seen off in the distance:
And so another journey in Japan is in the books, this one significant in that I reached my goal of visiting all 47 of the country's prefectures. This one was particularly enjoyable thanks to the opportunities I had to see old friends again. But now this era of good feelings has to come to end. For one reason I'm back at work in Guangzhou 广州. And for another I've chosen to end this post (and the series it covered) with a rant. Read on...
My final thoughts are concerned with seeing so many foreign travelers (yes, myself included) during the time I was in Japan. To give some background, I lived for ten
years in Tōkyō starting in 1989; spent three months studying in Okazaki; stayed one month in Matsumoto 松本; and finally resided with Shu-E for 17
months in Yokkaichi 四日市. Since 2006 every year I made a solo trip to Japan from Taiwan before joing the Foreign Service in 2012, and have returned to the country nine
times since then (not including this most recent visit), most of them with my wife and/or
daughter. That's 37 years in total for those of you playing at home. Prior to
Covid I could travel outside of the larger cities for long stretches and not see a single
Westerner (except perhaps the local AET). However, this time I was surprised at how many fellow gaijin I came across in Kakunodate 角館 and Towada-ko 十和田湖, and would continue to see until
I returned to Tōkyō (and the latter of course being swarmed with tourists from all
over the world). I've long been aware of these so-called "hidden gems off the beaten path" (news flash: they're neither) from decades of reading guidebooks
and talking with Japanese people, but how did these visitors learn of the OiraseValley 奥入瀬渓流, Goshikinuma 五色沼 orAizu-Wakamatsu 会津若松?
I put the blame on Instagram and, even worse, content creators. Doug pointed
out the reasons for why gaijin end up in Japan have changed over the years. In the late
1980s people traveled to Japan because that was where the money and the future were both perceived to be (similar to how China is thought of these days by some naive folks); or, like me, they were genuinely interested in the country's culture and history (lengthy side note: in college I took several classes in Japanese history and cultural anthropology as part of my East Asian Studies minor; in the introductory session of one history class the professor showed slides of the neighborhood in Kōbe 神戸 where he lived while he was teaching at a university. Instead of traditional gardens or elegant women wearing kimono, there were photos of drab danchi 団地 housing blocks, as well as my favorite, that of a giant bowling pin with female breasts standing atop a bowling alley. This upset a few of the students because even then some people had
definite fantasies as to how Japan should appear). At the language school in Okazaki many of my Western
classmates were inspired by anime アニメ and manga 漫画 to study 日本語 (looking back on my childhood I did watch
Speed Racer and all those kaijū 怪獣 movies, so perhaps my muses weren't all that different). Today it seems to be primarily so-called influencers on social media.
Has overtourism become an issue in Japan? A lot of Japanese (including my friend Jun) think that's the case. The same social media that drives so many foreigners to visit the country is also replete with videos of non-Japanese acting boorishly, or at the very least not behaving according to local customs. To be honest I didn't witness any terrible behavior on this trip, though I did silently reproach some tourists with backpacks and suitcases trying to board crowded trains at the tail end of the morning rush hour. But the sheer number of non-Japanese in places like Shibuya is overwhelming at times.
There is a small upside to all this. By virtue of saying a few words in Japanese when checking into my accommodations (especially the more traditional kinds) or ordering in restaurants I would invariably be the recipient of praise for my linguistic dexterity, which to be honest was a much-needed ego boost. Rather than demonstrating my (limited) fluency, however, the constant choruses of 上手ですね more likely reflected the linguistic limitations of the vast majority of my fellow gaijin travelers.
So what does this all mean? Nothing, really. As much as I would like to separate myself (and be seen to be separate) from the pack, I'm still a tourist, a non-resident stopping in every now and then to see a few sights and eat some food (and spend some money) before going home or moving on elsewhere. There's little I can do vis-à-vis the millions of other foreigners except to keep traveling to less well-known destinations, speak Japanese as
much as I can and try to follow all the cultural and social norms. Even back in the day I was conscious
of being the good gaijin, especially when it came to living in an apartment after
being turned down many times for not being Japanse. I didn’t always succeed but I tried my best to remain aware.
Yes, I have my own personal bucket list of things to cross off when it comes to Japan, but I’m not
looking for that Instagram-friendly shot to
generate views and promote my lifestyle brand. Nor am I going to make blog posts or YouTube videos on "5 secrets you didn't know about...", complete with a thumbnail showing my shocked face. I just want to continue exploring
a land that has meant so much to me over the last few decades. You're more than welcome to come along, though I don't mind doing it on my own, either.
またね...
*If you couldn't deduce that was sarcastic commentary on the state of political discourse in my homeland, there you're also part of the problem. I hope you enjoyed the midterms!
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