The Musts

I've been a bit touristy the last few weeks, doing all those things you Simply Must Do in Japan in one fell swoop, so I can just get on with life and the like.

So. I have:
- Gone cherry blossom viewing
- Been to see sumo wrestling
- Caught a shinkansen

Cherry blossom season was wonderful. The winter chill lessens suddenly and the sakura (cherry blossom) trees ready themselves before churning out fluffy white blossoms by their millions. There are often no leaves on the trees and they look like fairy floss. The season lasts only a week, perhaps two, before delicate petals carpet the sidewalks and float in swimming pools. Most people go to hanami parties beneath the flowers. I caught one on my tongue like a snowflake.

Sumo wrestling was kinda underwhelming. For such a refined sport, for a traditional pursuit which requires dedicating your life to becoming a huge musclebound beast, the actual fights last maybe 2 minutes, tops. It was a real sight to see a gigantic man topple slowly over, shaking the ring. Interestingly, the top sumo wrestler is Mongolian born, which has enraged traditionalists. They're still fuming that two Hawaiian men previously reached the highest rank of yokozuna. But the hope is that seeing a Japanese sport dominated by foreigners will provoke more domestic interest.

I also managed to catch a shinkansen, by mistake. It was a really difficult mistake to make - it had a long, curved nose, sleek lines, plush seats - but I stupidly thought that there was no way a shinkansen would operate between Osaka and Kobe and that therefore of course it had to be a cheap imitation. Not so. While it was a lovely ride and got me home ten minutes earlier, the cost quadrupled. The driver hurtled through the suburbs of Osaka at around 200 k's, overtaking slower trains with a dismissive hoot, charging past Mom and Pop intersections with only a boom gate seperating pedestrians from 100 tons of fast steel.

Thankfully, I've also been less touristy at times. I've:
- Gone to a Hanshin Tigers baseball game
- Patronized a love hotel (ooh, er)

The Hanshin Tigers game came about in a happenstance way; a train after work, a brief acquaintance with free tickets. It was incredible. I didn't watch the game so much as the crowd. 40,000 people bring Hanshin Tigers plastic sticks and beat them together rhythmically in unison. Standing next to the fence were men in white gloves, conducting the crowd and leading the singing, while trumpeters played and drummers set the pace. It was really quite excellent. Everyone worked themselves into a frenzy every time a new Hanshin Tigers player came on, and they sang a song specially written for him. So, we chanted songs along the lines of Joe, Joe, he's so strong, he's going to hit it far and long, but the songs went for a full five minutes, extolling the new players virtues and no doubt scaring the shit out of him. Sadly, the Tigers were outclassed that night by the Giants, so 40,000 people would exult over their new Great White Hope only to have him go out immediately. At one point in the game, everyone produced long balloons and blew them up, releasing them in unison when the conductors said Now! and thousands upon thousand of balloons whizzed around the stadium before spiraling from the sky like shot ducks.

And, ah, yeah. Last night I patronised a love hotel. Let me just say that it's one of the greatest inventions I've ever encountered. Why go to a bland, ordinary hotel with your secretary/tasty piece of man meat when you can go to a hotel built for the sole purpose of allowing people make love? Australia needs them. The world needs them. Sure, it helps people cheat on their spouses, but it lets them cheat in style, which is important. Love hotels dot Japan, lurid concrete castles with pink and yellow spires, or perhaps a fake palm tree and flashing neon. But once they've attracted your attention, they suddenly become remarkably private - secret car entrances, discreet back alleyway entrances. The entrance to the hotel Kiyono and I went to was like a maze. Inside, there was no-one visible, a ghost town. We deposited cash in a hand which appeared from behind a frosted screen and received some change, a key and a frequent visit rewards card (Seventh visit free!)

Inside our room was a rather large bed, a bathroom with a spa and what looked like a torture rack. Everything was immaculately clean. We laughed and joked, a little awkward (it kinda takes the spontaneous element of seduction away) and turned on the TV. Immediately, the room was filled with gasps and moans and eruptions of sperm. It was incredible. I've never, ever seen anything like it. One channel was showing an American porno starring lusty female vampires, but the only way you could tell they were vampires were their plastic incisors and their aviator glasses. After being pummeled by a cop-like character for a while, the main vampire turned nasty and the cop killed her and then most of the other vampires. The other channel was Japanese porn, which was bizarre, and really rather fucked up. A naive and shy office worker starts work only to have her male workmates surround her in the changerooms, forcibly strip her and feed their cocks into her mouth - rape porn. But within five minutes, the Amazing Male Fantasy comes true and the raped office lady reinvents herself emerges as the Cum-Hungry Slut who Wants It All.

(If that last sentence doesn't send Serepax's popularity soaring, I don't know what will)

Sadly, it wasn't a themed hotel - you can go to hotels which have rooms full of sci-fi style equipment and costumes, or dress up as a gunslinger, or try your hand at beginner's bondage. Next time, maybe.