Richard's blog

During my holiday in Japan I picked up a rentacar from Fujisawa and drove to Shimoda, at the bottom of the Izu peninsula. There are resort areas to the west of Tokyo spread from around Mt Fuji and down into Izu. The lure : onsen, scenery, the “country”, nature.

I don’t know how popular Izu is today, but very little of the tourist infrastructure looks built in the last 20 years, suggesting its popularity is waning. Along the coast, hulking slabs of 1960s hotel loom from the cliff faces. The style is part 1960s Austrian bath-cure resort, part Honolulu coast, and all Japan. Their rhythmic edifices remind me a bit of honeycomb – the same hotel room, 300 or 400 times. Many are in disrepair, some seemingly in disuse.

I drove along a toll road called the Skyline, which may win the prize for the worst signposted tourist road in the world. It is extremely popular with groups of motorcycle enthusiasts, but that’s about it. The route is winding, scenic and green.

Along the road, abandoned tourist pavilions sit derelict, weeds bulging through the cracks in the concrete. Decrepit third-rate restaurants crank out a meagre trade on passing desperation. I suspect the dilapidated golden-era tourist infrastructure speaks of a day when people still aspired to have holidays near home and foreign travel was not entirely democratic.

I stayed at a minshuku in Shimoda. Minshuku are B&Bs, Japanese style, except you usually have the evening meal too. In this case, an elaborate, delicious ten course banquet that I felt embarrassed for not being able to eat more of. There are only 10 guestrooms and they are traditional Japanese style with tatami and futons. The minshuku is a little dated, and is not glamorous, but it is comfortable and absolutely spotless.

The hospitality is generous and warmhearted. The Japanese word for hospitality is omotenashi which is very different from what people mean in the West when they say “I work in hospitality.” Working in hospitality is a sprinkling of customer service jargon over self-hatred and boredom. Omotenashi is commitment to, and pride in, your unfailing attention to the needs of the guest. If you get a chance to stay at a minshuku I would recommend it.
At night I went to the onsen of the Kanaya ryokan, also in Shimoda. It is a super-traditional wooden building with a simple large open wooden bath (possibly hinoki) and a rotenburo (open air bath.) A delightfully authentic experience. It is not far from Daitenji station.

Shimoda itself is a tourist oddity, highly recommended if standing on the place where milk was first drunk by humans in Japan is your idea of a good time. There is a strip of historic houses preserved by the canal which is quaint. I suspect there is a nice beach around but it was cold and miserable at the time so I didn’t get down there.

Went to Japan for a two-week holiday last month. It has taken me a little while to get my act into gear on posting the photos, but an edited selection is now up on Picasa.


This time I went for a drive (first time I’ve ever driven in a foreign country) from Fujisawa to Shimoda to Gotemba to Kofu.


Japanese driving is very strange when it comes to speed limits. It says 50 (km/h) and everyone’s doing 80. There’s also a lot of 30, which is really frustrating if you obey it, but most people are doing 45 or 50. I found this very pretty and deserted temple near Mishima called Myouhokkeji, which was a highlight:

In Tokyo, I caught up with good friends and spent a lot of time wandering around suburbs like Hiroo, Yanaka, Denenchofu, Higashi, Futakotamagawa, Asagaya, as well as my regular favorites like Daikanyama, Nakameguro, etc. I like the dilapidated architecture of Tokyo’s suburbs and the little shops and cafes in quiet back streets.


Highlights included seeing Strauss’s Opera Die Frau Ohne Schatten at the NNTT, with some fabulous American and European singers, and eating highly rated ramen from the Ramen Database. Another highlight was the Cafe du Violon in Asagaya. It’s a bit like the Lion Music Cafe in Shibuya. You can go there to listen to old classical LPs played on an antique valve-driven stereo machine. Pure Tokyo bliss.

Saw Brett Dean’s new opera Bliss last night (reviews here). Lots to recommend – astonishing set, brilliant performances. I think the music has grown on me since watching it.
I’m a bit over gratuitous dissonance these days though. It doesn’t seem culturally relevant to me. I think the tipping point for me is around something I’ll call decipherability – is the music so complex that I can’t decode it? Because if I can’t work out roughly what the harmonic progressions are, what the rhythms are, then I’m essentially hearing noise, even if I’m listening to music. There were quite a few times last night where I didn’t follow what was going on compositionally.
That having been said there are many stretch-modernists whose music I admire: Messiaen & Ligeti are probably the two favorites that come to mind. What are your feelings about super-modern art music?

JG introduced me to Pictures for Sad Children. I particularly liked this.
JR brought my attention to the totally inappropriate What The Fuck Should I Make For Dinner. It’s what you expect. I didn’t know you could have “fuck” in a URL though. Interesting.