"I think I'm turning Japanese, I really think so..."
The sister of dear Mrs Boris was working in Japan as a language teacher, so being the carefree young things we were, we decided to go and visit for a couple of weeks. Mrs Boris went out ahead of me on a direct flight to Osaka and I followed a few days later as I had to make an appearance as the Emperor Domitian at a gladiatorial event in London (here's a shot of me - I'm in the chariot...).
Anyhoo, as dad used to work for BA lugging boxes, I could get cheap flights, so I got the BA007 to Tokyo. I was allowed to sit in the BA staff canteen for several hours until I needed to go to checkin, which was much better than the hell that is Heathrow. Everything goes fine.
On board, I notice that, apart from two Austrian girls, I'm the only Westerner on the flight. Less than twenty miliseconds after take-off, every other passenger pulled down their shutters and went for a nine-hour kip, most of them not waking for meals. Being a happy flier, I had to go to the back of the aircraft to look out of a window. Seeing Siberia slowly passing underneath you is a sight not to be missed, even if it is just miles and miles of trees.
During this oriental slumber party, one of the attendants comes out, looks for me and hands over a form. It's a BA questionnaire. I mention that I probably shouldn't fill it out as I'm on staff travel.
"Well, why didn't you say so?" beams the nice lady and the rest of the flight is spent in the galley, chatting to the ladies there. As we all filed off of the flight, they call me back in a rather serious manner until the other passengers had gone. Subconciously, I could hear the crisp snap of disposable gloves. However, after checking everyone else had gone, they presented me with a bulging carrier bag of every concieveble type of in-flight snack as a present for the train ride across Japan.
I even manage to get the right ticket for the train using one of only three Japanese phrases I had been coached in. All was well.
Until.
Now, something that hadn't been explained was that the Japanese have a habit of answering 'yes' to all questions, regardless of the actual answer.
I asked a train conductor "Osaka yuki des kaa?" (Does this train go to Osaka?)
"Hai!" came back the answer.
Thus began the longest train journey of my life.
I'd already been awake for some eighteen hours by this point, so I was looking forward to getting a bit of a kip on the train. As we pull out, I notice that none of the platform signs at the passing station bear any resemblance to those I was expecting to pass. It slowly dawns on me that this train is not going to Osaka.
I get off at some station, somewhere outside Tokyo and study the departures. No trains to Osaka. I go and ask at the ticket counter. Luckily, the lady there knew English very well, so I could pay a small supplement and get the 'Student express' train as far as somewhere beginning with 'G' which I've now forgotten. I should also mention that, due to financial reasons, the ticket I had was only for local trains - no Shinkansen (Bullet train) for me...
This is all very good.
"When is the train?"
"In seven hours."
Five hours later (awake the whole time due to the distinctly shifty-looking people about), the same lady comes up to me and says that I should get the train back to one stop before Tokyo or there won't be enough room on the train to get on at that particular stop.
Turns out there was barely enough room anyway, but I gamely barged my way on and settled in a corner of the vestibule, standing of course. The bag of in-flight snacks really came into its own here. I excited no small amount of curiousity, being the only gaijin apparently on the train and some time was spent drawing maps of where I lived in the steam on the windows. they all seemed slightly aghast when I told them I was going to Osaka by local train. However, ther was a chap also doing the same. He was a student at a Bhuddist monastary in Kyoto, a couple of stops before Osaka. As such, I stuck with him. As we were all standing, no-one got any sleep and I have absolutely no idea how long the trip was. I was already suffering audiatory hallucinations by this point (the highlight of which was 'overhearing' two Japanese suits with one telling the other he would make an excellent subject for his human torture program) due to lack of sleep and this didn't get better.
As night turned into dawn, we piled off the train in a boiling sea of frenzied, but ordered humanity. I followed my trainee-monk friend through an intricate series of interconnecting tunnels to the right platform and found the train. At least we could sit on this one.
My friend started to get a bit weird by this point and was rambling, so I was hoping it wouldn't be too far til he got off. Several more hours, as it turned out. As he left at Kyoto, I stayed on for the hour-or-so to Osaka, hallucinating badly by this point, so much so I initially ignored a Japanese girl talking English to me in an American accent.
Finally, I get to Osaka. As I was now over a day adrift in my travel plans, there was no-one to meet me, so I made my way to an internet cafe, coughed up a few tens of yen and checked my emails.
Mrs Boris and Ms Boris-in-law had in fact moved to Kyoto and had emailed to say I should meet them there. I was too tired to feel even a little pissed off, so I got the next train back. I followed the directions to the pokiest hostel in Japan and booked a bed. I didn't care if they were there or not. I was going to have a kip.
I'd not met Ms Boris-in-law, but amongst the handful of westerners there, she managed to find me and insisted I went out to lunch with them. This turned into visiting a temple where I hallucinated peacocks and eagles. I had been awake for fifty-two hours and fell asleep so soundly on the bus back, it took both of them to hold on to me to stop me falling out of my seat.
I got twenty minutes kip and woke up. After that, I was fine for the rest of the trip.
I'll add another tale of the trip back later...
( Colonel Boris "...a desperate Buzzfeed imitation...", Sat 31 May 2008, 22:40, Reply)