farewell to Korea...again

It's 7:15 a.m. 

The sky is still pitch-black. I'm beginning to wonder if I'm in Bellona, the nightmarish, eternally overcast city from Samuel R. Delany's novel Dhalgren. 

In one hour, I shall be boarding a China Eastern flight to Shanghai (Pudong). After a five-hour layover, I'll jump another jet plane for San Francisco, where my parents will pick me up and take me back to their new place near Sacramento. After a few days with them, I'll drive down to Las Vegas on the 13th of January to reunite with Miss H after four long months...and have a job interview with a tech start-up the very next day.

And so, ladies and gentlemen, I depart Korea for the second time, this latest stint having lasted three years. Was it time wasted? I think not. I made another bucketload of disreputable friends, proposed to the girl of my dreams (in Tokyo, but hey), wrote two-and-a-half novels, began to take my writing career seriously, kicked off the quest to get a book published, and (completely by accident) fulfilled my childhood dream of becoming a professor in a foreign land. 

Now it's time to move on to a new set of dreams: marriage, family, a writing career, a commercial pilot's license (and a floatplane rating)...and after that? A steady writing job in Las Vegas, seasonal work with Grand Canyon tour companies, a published novel, a dozen syndicated short stories, two or three troublemaking kids, and a big mongrel dog. Wish me luck.

So long and farewell, Korea. You were awfully good to me and mine. I'll see you again someday. Let's do gimbap. 

Tokyo Tower

Having finished with what is perhaps the largest, grandest temple in Tokyo, it was time to stroll over to what is surely the pointiest thing the Japanese capital could show me...

No, not these guys. They're called Noppon, and they're two brothers: Older Brother (blue dungarees) and Younger Brother (red dungarees). They were "born" in 1998 to commemorate the tower's 40th anniversary.

...Tokyo Tower, of course.

The word on the street is that it was supposed to be a clone of the Eiffel Tower in Paris, and it would have been, too, if the builders weren't forced by Japan's air safety regulations to paint the thing with orange and white stripes:

Not quite the same, is it?

I will say this about Tokyo Tower, before I even begin to tell you about it: (a) it was the most expensive thing I did in Japan apart from Disneyland and a couple of ritzy meals; and (b) it was the only thing I had to wait in line for.

I saw an intriguing sign on the way in:

Somebody say highballs? I love highballs!

I joined the queue at the main entrance and waited about 20 minutes to get a ticket for the main observation platform 150 meters off the ground. I wanted to do both observation platforms, but tickets for the special 250-meter platform have to be purchased on the main platform. (Here's a little diagram for you if you're puzzled.) I paid ¥820 yen and went inside.

There are two ways to get up to the main observation platform. At the foot of the tower is a four-story building (FootTown) full of shops, restaurants, cafeterias, and a little playground for children on the roof. You can take FootTown's elevator to the roof and then walk up 615 steps, or 30-40 minutes, to the main platform. Or you can do like my lazy ass did and just take the express tower elevator up there.

I was greeted by this view:

Just in case you're curious...that's Zōjō-ji. Where I just was in my last post. I got to see it from above.

And there's Tokyo Bay (formerly Edo Bay, when Tokyo was still called Edo) in the distance.

Kids were running around, couples were taking snapshots, elderly mothers were escorted by their sons...it was really a warm and family sort of atmosphere in there that day. I felt rather out of place as a singleton with a camera around his neck. For the umpteenth time I found myself wishing that Heather was here, 'cause she'd have really liked this view (even if she is scared of heights).

Know what this is? It's the "Tokyo Tower Mystery Ball." It was found in the...oh, forget it. Look here:

Nobody knows what it is, where it came from, or how it got up there. Speaking for myself, I thought it looked exactly like a baseball. I could even see the stitching on it. The only mystery for me was how it got to be up there, unless two construction workers were drunkenly knocking it around with a bat and glove and it landed in the antenna casing and got lost. It couldn't have been batted up there from the ground, for Pete's sake, nor fallen out of a plane...

When I was done perusing the view from 150 meters, I spent ¥600 for a ticket to the special platform, walked up some stairs, and waited in line in a tiny glass-cased room with a load of scruffy construction workers for the tiny service elevator (for a total of ¥1420 in admission fees, or about $14.50).

The view out of the rear of the special platform elevator. I didn't mention this earlier, but the tower was covered with scaffolding. I don't know whether there was an inspection being done, or maintenance, or whether it was just being repainted, but it mucked up the view at some points. That's also what that maintenance crew two photos ago was doing, waiting to use the lift to get up to the top. 

The much-smaller but higher special platform.

At the time, I wasn't certain that forking over another six bucks for an extra hundred meters was going to be worth it. But it sure was. The views were fantastic. I could see Disneyland from up there.

It's right there in the middle background.

What really impressed me was that Tokyo seemed to have no end. From N'Seoul Tower in Korea, I could see the limits of Seoul, the mountains and whatnot. Tokyo? No way. The only boundary I could spot was Tokyo Bay. The city was like an urban ocean, and I was on a gigantic palm tree looking out over it. Granted, the day was somewhat hazy and smoggy and I couldn't strictly have seen the city limits even if they were there, but the effect was still impressive.

After a few dozen more pictures, I rode both elevators back down to the ground. There was a rather regal-looking fellow in long grey robes and a white turban in the main elevator heading back. I couldn't make out what language he spoke or what country he was from, nor what his religious creed might be. He seemed just as lost and out-of-place as I did, though, trying to understand the rapid chatter of the elevator ladies in Japanese and English. (The elevator, you see, went all the way down, but it stopped at every floor of FootTown, confusing the two of us mightily.)

And then it was out again into the bright, sticky sunshine.

Well hello there!

 
What's this?

It was the bar whose posted sign I had noticed on the way in. It seemed that Suntory, an enormous Japanese beverage conglomerate (who started makin' whisky in 1937 but eventually got into beers, juices, coffee, and soft drinks) was having a festival. The months of July and August were "whisky summer." So all over Tokyo these little highball bars had sprung up.

I thought, What the hell, it's five o'clock somewhere. ¥450 later I had a cold drink in my hand.

Let me clear something up for you: if you go into a bar and order a vodka and tonic or a gimlet or a Presbyterian, you're ordering a highball. A "highball" is just a cocktail that's quick to make 'cause it just has a liquor, a mixer and (possibly) a garnish thrown into a tall glass with ice.

However, the highball is also a cocktail with whiskey and ginger ale. And that's what I was sipping on at the foot of Tokyo Tower on August 3. Perhaps I'll put up a recipe on this here blog about it sometime.

Having enjoyed my libation and the sight of the sun shining down between the supports of Tokyo Tower...

...I strolled back down to the subway station and rode a stop or two to my next destination: Roppongi Hills, an humongous shopping center constructed in a rather labyrinthine way with multiple levels. I didn't find the yakiniku (barbecue) joint I was looking for. Instead, I walked back out of Roppongi Hills and went to an Indian restaurant nearby named Moti.

For a steep ¥2580, I had a lovely meal: chicken jalfrezi, naan bread, and some Kingfisher beer. (I was too busy eating to get a shot of the grub, so deal with it.) Quite delicious, even if it was expensive. I figured I owed myself a good splurge.

And that was that! I returned to the First Inn Kyobashi and relaxed in my capsule for the rest of the afternoon, cooling off and making sure I was packed for the morrow. I'd considered stopping by Tokyo Station (just a couple blocks over) and activating my Japan Rail Pass, but after all that walking about Zōjō-ji and Tokyo Tower, I was beat. So I decided to chillax and just worry about it later.

And speaking of chillaxin'...

Like a boss.

I told you I would get around to explaining that bottle of whisky, didn't I?

This is Suntory Whisky, the same stuff I had in my highball at the tower. I'd been curious about it ever since I heard that the Japanese have been winning awards for their Scotch-style whiskies. Suntory's been around the longest, so presumably they do it best. I picked up a bottle almost as soon as I hit town. I recalled hearing about Suntory in a book I'd read recently, Hiroshima (concerning you-know-what). One of the victims of the atomic bombing, an elderly doctor, was sitting on the front porch of his small clinic, sipping his favorite Suntory whisky and looking forward to a relaxing day. Then the bomb hit and flung him into the river with the remnants of his clinic on top of him, and the bottle to who-knows-where. Sad story, particularly the bit about the whisky. Anyway, I just had to try some, so I nabbed a fifth and cracked 'er open. I sipped on it all during my trip through Japan. (In ensuing pictures you'll see the levels grow lower and lower.) As far as whiskies go, I found it rather unexceptional, but it could have been a lot worse. It had a fine, dry flavor with a very smooth finish and zesty overtones. It was a typical blended whisky and was comparable, in my opinion, to Cutty Sark or J&B, which are two of my favorite blended whiskies. I mourned the tariffs and trade agreements which prohibited my carrying of any Japanese whisky back to Korea with me. I found the bottle a stalwart companion on my travels and was glad to have it along.

And that's about enough for one day, I reckon. On August 4, I went to Tokyo Station and thence to the old capital of Kyoto! Day One of Kyoto is coming soon, but before that, let's talk about RIDING THE SHINKANSEN.

Stay put, mister, you don't want to miss this.