Archive for December, 2011

Saturday, December 31st, 2011

Why I Love Japan Part 3 – Feeling Safe

Japanese policeman

There was a massively thick copy of the Yellow Pages next to the Gideon Bible in my hotel room in Miami. It turned out that the reason for its excessive bulk was that there were more than 100 pages devoted to adverts from lawyers. There are over a million lawyers in the States and I’m sure there’s enough work for each and every one of them. It’s a reflection of the difference in the way of life between America and Japan that Japan has only 25,000 lawyers.

One of the reasons why America has so many lawyers is that there’s so much crime. The fear of crime permeates every aspect of ordinary American life. In Japan, crime is rare and consequently there’s no fear of it. If a woman goes into a crowded Starbucks in Tokyo and wants to bag a seat, she’ll leave her handbag on a chair while she joins the queue at the counter. She doesn’t have the slightest worry that it won’t be there when she gets back. When the bars and clubs empty in Shinjuku in the early hours, a lot of very tipsy people will pour out onto the streets, but it’s a happy crowd, completely free from any tension or aggression and everyone will get home safely. When motorists park up they’ll leave their car unlocked, with the keys in in the ignition.

There was a time when, as a visitor to a new and unfamiliar place, I relished the sense of danger in knowing that I couldn’t trust anyone and that my money and passport were under constant threat. But there’s a wonderful feeling of liberation in being in a place where you can trust everyone, and equally importantly, they trust you. When you check into a hotel you won’t be asked to pay in advance and only rarely asked for your credit card details. And when you do come to pay, whether it’s in a hotel, restaurant or shop you can be certain that no-one is trying to over-charge you or rip you off and you don’t have to count your change. A country with only 25,000 lawyers is a very good place to be.

Friday, December 30th, 2011

Why I Love Japan Part 2 – The food

Japanese food

“Japan is like an oyster. An oyster dislikes foreign objects: when even the smallest grain of sand or broken shell finds its way inside the oyster shell, the oyster finds the invasion intolerable, so it secretes layer after layer of nacre upon the surface of the offending particle, eventually creating a perfect pearl. In like manner Japan coats all culture from abroad, transforming it into a Japanese-style pearl.”
Alex Kerr- ‘Lost Japan’

My daughters sat goggle-eyed as the slim twenty-something girl, who was eating on her own, slurped oyster after oyster from their shells, until she had got through 8 plates-full, that’s 96 in all. Part of the fun of eating out in Japan is seeing what everyone else is getting up to. The Oyster Bar is one of four dozen eating places on the 9th and 10th floors of the new shopping complex above Hakata station in Fukuoka. This is affordable eating, perfectly suited to a family of five. All the restaurants are Japanese, in that the owners and staff are Japanese, but several call themselves Italian, French, Chinese and Mexican. They are all small and independently owned, each with a different speciality. Of the true Japanese there are the usual suspects, such as sushi, sashimi, tempera, sukiyaki, shabu-shabu, teppenyaki and ramen, and some unusual specialities, such as horse-meat, tripe and one serving what they described as “organ meat dishes”. But you generally knew what you were going to get, because replicas of the dishes are helpfully displayed in the restaurant window and most of the menus have photos alongside the description. The restaurants which call themselves Italian or French, etc. are a refined Japanese version of the original, always as good and sometimes much better than the cuisine on which they’re based.

We are well aware that there’s another world out there, the “high end” restaurants which have earned Japan its reputation as the gastronomic centre of the world, now that it has more Michelin stars than France. They are beyond our reach. There are also hundreds of inexpensive places, such as the ramen and soba bars, where a meal will cost £3 or £4. In our price range, which is £10 a head, the choice is vast and it doesn’t matter whether you’re eating pure Japanese or the Japanese version of another county’s food, you won’t eat better anywhere in the world.

Wednesday, December 28th, 2011

Why I Love Japan Part 1 – Hospitality

Bell Girls

“Japanese people are compulsively, touchingly, almost painfully kind and welcoming to foreigners”
Richard Lloyd Parry ‘Japan: Three Cities’

Who wouldn’t be nervous going to a place where you can’t even begin to understand the language or read the signs and where the population has the reputation, gleaned from countless films, of being fearsome at worst, strange at best. The Japanese know this, which is why they go to extraordinary lengths to put you at your ease. Every visitor will have a story of the overwhelming kindness of strangers. If you’re in the middle of Tokyo and, needing to find your bearings, you open a map in the street, within 15 seconds someone will be at your side asking, in faltering English, if they can help. And when you tell them the place you’re looking for they won’t just point you in the right direction – they’ll take you to the door. I was once lost deep on the bowels of the Tokyo underground and asked someone the way and although he was waiting for a train he walked with me up onto the street and took me to my destination.

The sense of hospitality is present everywhere but not least where it matters most – in the hotels and restaurants. In England, hospitality suffers because English people have a dread of appearing servile and so don’t take naturally to waiting on tables. In America, hospitality is driven, very successfully, by the tipping system, but woe betide the customer who fails to give the expected 15%. In Japan, tipping doesn’t exist, in fact the offer of a tip will cause embarrassment, simply because they take pride in doing a job well. That pride, together with a strong work ethic, makes the level of hospitality in Japan second to none. You feel it as soon as you arrive, which is why I’m always itching to return.

Tuesday, December 27th, 2011

Roses in December

Roses

You don’t expect to see much flower power in a Japanese garden at any time of year and so to come across a rose garden in full bloom in the middle of winter was quite something. I found this lovely surprise at the Fukuoka Botanical Garden, which is set high above the city in the Minami-koen park. The display consisted of several dozen varieties of floribunda and hybrid tea roses, all in full flower and in perfect condition. It gets as cold in Fukuoka in winter as it does in England and they had snow here yesterday, so conditions are hardly ideal. Mind you, should I be so surprised, after being taken aback by the quality of the roses which were supplied to my garden at the Gardening World Cup here in October. The Japanese love their roses, and they certainly know how to grow them.

The roses shown are R. Meigronuri “Gold Bunny” and R Meiridge “Charleston”.

Roses 2

Sunday, December 25th, 2011

Sushi Christmas Cake

Sushi Christmas Cake

The Japanese love Christmas and there are Santas everywhere – we saw 30 of them assembled on the river bank in Kyoto (goodness knows why) and Colonel Sanders dressed as Father Christmas outside KFC. But Christmas Day isn’t a public holiday in Japan and we took advantage of a normal train service to take the shinkansen to Hiroshima and visit the A-Bomb museum. I’m not sure that this would have been the first choice of my three teenage girls, and my middle daughter described it as the most depressing experience of her entire life. And then, as a change to good old turkey, our Japanese hosts in Fukuoka prepared a Christmas cake sushi, made from sculpted pieces of raw fish on a bed of sticky rice. I was beginning to wonder whether Christmas this year would live up to expectations when I looked out of the window and saw the snow begin to fall, in big fluffy flakes. It would be a perfect Christmas after all.

Saturday, December 24th, 2011

The Moss Temple Garden (Koke-dera) – Is this the best garden in the world?

Moss Garden

The monks may not be as unworldly as they seem. They’ve created a mystique around the moss garden which surrounds the Temple of Fragrance in Kyoto by making all visitors apply for a permit in writing at least a week in advance and then charging a fee (or ‘donation’ as they put it) of a whopping £25 (3,000 yen) a head. The going rate for a temple and garden in Kyoto is £4. I reckon they rake in a cool £4m a year.

But the monks temper their greed with a sense of fun for once they’ve extracted your chunk of cash they take you to a hall where they make you sit on the floor in front of a low desk together with about a hundred others, school room style. You are then treated to a 20 minute Shinto ceremony after which you’re instructed to write a prayer on a wooden tablet using a calligraphy brush and black ink. You then queue to kneel at a shrine on which you place your prayer, before you are allowed to look at the garden.

The garden is important because it’s nearly eight centuries old. It was designed by Muso Kokushi, a zen priest, as a place for meditation. The monks have done well in keeping the coach parties away because it retains its peacefulness. We were told that there are 120 types of moss in the garden, which, like the Eskimo’s 145 kinds of snow, doesn’t merit further enquiry. We were also told that the garden looks its best in June, in the rain, when the moss lies under a thick canopy of trees. Now, in December, when the trees have lost their leaves and the ground is dry, it doesn’t have that touch of magic. This may be the most expensive garden to see, but it’s definitely not the best.

Friday, December 23rd, 2011

Living it up in Pyongyang

kim jong il

The rules of the hotel in East Berlin required everyone who used the pool to wear a bathing cap, but they said nothing about bathing suits so the tall blonde swimming alongside me wore a bathing cap and nothing else. The pool was where the Stasi girls hung out during the day. Later, they were in the hotel’s night club hoping to snare another victim. If, like me, you were single with no secrets to sell there was nothing to fear.

As a frequent traveller behind the iron curtain, I’d been fully briefed by MI6, so I was prepared for the weird and wonderful life of the Communist bloc. But no briefing could prepare me for the strangeness of Pyongyang, the capital of North Korea, the most hard-line of the communist states. This was in the days of their Great Leader, Kim Il-sung, the father of Kim Jong-il, who has just died. As with all communist countries, the arrival of a foreign delegation was the excuse for banquets and junkets, except that in Pyongyang even more so. As an example, we were driven to the theatre in a motor cavalcade and when we arrived the whole audience rose to their feet and applauded.

We weren’t allowed the teeniest glimpse of what was beneath the surface, but it was grim, even then, and has grown much grimmer since. The Kim dynasty, who have run things entirely for their own private benefit, have presided over what has become a grotesque experiment on the results of tyranny. In 1950, North and South Korea shared the same prosperity, as well as the same language and culture. South Korea took a while to shake off their military dictatorship but have now evolved into a liberal democracy with a free economy. As a result their citizens are now 18 times more prosperous than those in the North.

The Stasi girls are long gone and the East Germans are happily united with their neighbours. There’s no sign of that happening in Korea, and until it does the North will simply be a powerful reminder of what communism means.

Wednesday, December 21st, 2011

Bert Jansch Remembered

Bert Jansch
The photo on the album cover showed a painfully thin, unlovely young man holding a guitar. In contrast to all the other albums on display, no attempt had been made to show a pretty picture. “If a man as ugly as that has made a record, his music must be good” I reasoned, and bought it, without hearing a note of his music first. This was pretty reckless of me because it cost 32s 6d, which, as my pocket money was only £3 a term, was nearly half of everything I had.

My teenage instinct turned out to be spot on. Bert Jansch’s first album was one of the best folk/blues records made. I became such as fan that I even persuaded my school to invite him to play at a concert. Heavens knows what the dour Glaswegian made of the posh public school, or of the boy who followed him into the gents and got him to sign his album.

Bert Jansch went on to found Pentangle, a folk band who were too girlie for me. But not long ago he recorded a new solo album, Black Swan, which recalled his glory days. Over the years his looks had changed to the extent that he had become painfully fat and his record company made a sensible move in putting a picture of a black swan on the album cover.

These reflections have been prompted by the news of his death (news which reached me late, as I was abroad when he died in October). I’m dismayed that none of his early recordings are on Youtube, but the video below contains ‘Needle of Death’, from his eponymous album.

Monday, December 19th, 2011

Boy’s Own Gardening – Part Two

Bart and Sulphuric Acid

A blow torch with a 14 inch flame (the Tarantella) is the next best thing to a flame thrower (see – http://www.slow-life.co.uk/2011/12/17/boys-own-gardening-part-one/), but if one of those isn’t at hand to get rid of the weeds, how about a dose of sulphuric acid? As even Bart Simpson knows, the trick with sulphuric acid is to add it to water, never the other way round. If water is added to the acid, heat is generated with the result that steam and acid shoot into the air, with horrible results if they hit your face. Acid is also liable to destroy clothing and metal objects, not least watering cans. In other words sulphuric acid is worthy of a place alongside dynamite and blow lamps in the panoply of the Boy’s Own Gardening kit.

The wonderful properties of sulphuric acid in controlling weeds were explained in a lecture to the RHS by Professor P.E. Blackburn from Oxford University*. The Prof acknowledged that it could be dangerous, but pointed out that it was widely used in agriculture and there had been few casualties. He said that it was particularly effective with crops of onions and leeks, whose waxy leaves allows them to survive when the weeds were killed. For some reason acid is frowned upon nowadays. Bring on the blow torch.

*Journal of the Royal Horticultural Society, Volume 73, 1948.

Saturday, December 17th, 2011

Boy’s Own Gardening – Part One

Dynamite

Is it any wonder that men (by which I mean grown up boys) confine their gardening to the lawn nowadays?

There’s no doubt about it, gardening was more fun in the old days. You didn’t just venture out with a spade or a trowel; if the mood took you, you could use a stick of dynamite or a blow torch instead. The dynamite was used to prepare beds for cultivating as an alternative to double-digging, or for removing tree stumps or for making a hole in which to plant a tree. Trials were carried out under the auspices of the Royal Horticultural Society which showed that explosives placed 18 inches apart and 3 feet deep would prepare the soil more effectively than traditional digging methods.

Even more fun could be had with a blow torch. There were two types – the Aetna, which produced a 9 inch flame and the Tarantella which gave a 14 inch flame. The main purpose of the blow lamp was to kill off weeds but they were also used against garden pests such as the turnip fly and woolly aphids, and the most fun was had by going out at night and zapping slugs and snails.

This is how it was summed up in a lecture to the RHS by Herbert E. Durham Sc.D.,M.B., B.C., F.R.C.S.:

“Notwithstanding the addition of explosives and blow-lamps to our gardening apparatus, I think that you will probably agree with me that we have not yet arrived at a sort of horticultural millennium when all deep cultivation will be done with explosives, when the surface weeding will be done with a blow-lamp and specimens of the spade and fork become some of the most valued antiques in a museum of the Royal Horticultural Society”.*

*Journal of the RHS, Volume 40