Places I'm Visiting: Japan – September–October 2025

Back home again after a month in Japan, I'm still working through the jet lag, but a busy schedule upon my return has helped to get me back in synch with the sun. As my visit this time was mostly to see my father-in-law before his passing, I haven't posted the extended notes I usually do as a way of remembering places visited and details noted. Most of the trip was spent on the island of Oshima, with family, but, after the funeral, we took a little time for a short trip. Just wanting to get away, we made no real plans before heading out, but I had wanted to to see Izumo Taisha, one of Japan's most important Shinto Shrines, so we headed off to Shimane Prefecture, on the Sea of Japan side of Japan's main island of Honshu. 

Along the way, we stopped at the Adachi Museum of Art. Although the main collection was not of much interest, a recently added wing devoted to the ceramic work of Kitaōji Rosanjin was worth the time, and the gardens around the museum are famous. Some consider them to be Japan's most beautiful. I'm not sure I agree. While they are very pretty, I thought them a little too tidy, a little too perfectly manicured. Still, I enjoyed the view. 

We visited Shimane Winery, which turned out to be mostly a tourist destination. I noticed a lot of vineyards in the area. Because of the frequent rains in Japan, grapes here are almost entirely grown in greenhouses rather than outdoors. 

We took a quick look at Matsue Castle, which is noteworthy because it is one of the few medieval castles in Japan that retains its original keep. Most castles in the country have been extensively restored, although some more than others. Quite a number have been completely rebuilt in modern times on the site of their ruins. 

We found a Lafcadio Hearn Museum in Matsue and, next door, a house that Hearn once lived in. I knew of Hearn, having often heard the name, and long ago I read his best-known book, Kwaidan, a collection of retold Japanese ghost stories, but I knew little about the man. The museum was surprisingly informative and the English labels on the exhibits were complete and written in good English, which is unusual. Often English labeling in Japanese museums is abbreviated and just as often it suffers from poor, sometimes incomprehensible, translation. 

I hadn't known that Hearn had worked as a journalist in Cincinnati or that he had lived in Greece, Ireland, and England and worked briefly in Tahiti, apparently getting to know Gauguin there. I hadn't known that Hearn had lived in New Orleans and that he even wrote a creole cookbook. He lived in various places in Japan besides Matsue, but it was there that raised his family with his Japanese wife, Settsu, who is currently the subject of an NHK serial drama. If you happen to find yourself in Shimane and have any interest in literature, the Hearn Museum is well worth the price of admission. 

Other things I learned included the fact that the area around Matsue was once an important cotton producing area and that the manga creator Mizuki Shigeru was from Sakaiminato, a nearby town just over the border into Tottori Prefecture. Cotton  production in the area began in the early 1700s, although later there appears to have been a shift toward silk production. There is a small section of the town of Hirata, between Matsue and Izumo Tashia, with buildings that date back to the cotton days, some of them restored and repurposed. On a stroll through the area, I noticed many shops with potted cotton plants out front, a nod to the local history. In Sakaiminato there is a street several blocks long dedicated to Mizuki lined with bronze sculptures of his yokai creations and some of the streetlights there project images of the monsters on the street. 

I spent my last three days in Japan in Tokyo, which afforded the opportunity to catch up with some old friends and colleagues and to enjoy a couple of good meals. On the plane home, I had the good fortune of being seated beside a young couple with interests that aligned with my own, which led to an extended conversation – always a welcome distraction on a long flight.

Places I'm Visiting: Japan 2025 Day Four

On day four of my Japan trip this year the day started with a stroll around the Yanaka area, which is just west of Nippori Station on the Yamanote train line, in the northern part of central Tokyo. It's a mix of shops aimed mostly at tourists and small businesses aimed at the locals. 

Nearby is an area that, for reasons I've not been able to precisely ascertain, is full of Buddhist temples. This is also where Yanaka Reien (Yanaka Cemetery) is located – a large complex of plots with a long history (established around 1875) criss-crossed by city streets. The streets are lined with large, old cherry trees. The blossom-viewing crowds were out, and so were the flowers. A wave of warmer weather yesterday brought out the last reluctant buds. White petals were fluttering in the breeze. A small film crew from NHK (Japan's equivalent of the BBC) was out capturing the falling petals; the progress of the cherry blossoms at every stage from bud to bloom is monitored and reported daily during cherry season. Personally, I prefer the plum blossoms because the cherries are virtually scentless, but the cherries are quite pretty too.

Also fluttering were birds. On my visit to Japan last year, I noted the Brown-eared Bulbuls that like to sip nectar from the base of the cherry flowers, clipping them and dropping them whole in the process. These are noisy, aggressive birds that were busy chasing each other from tree to tree. In addition, I noticed two unfamiliar birds that I've identified as the White-cheeked Starling, which is well described by its name, and the Azure-winged Magpie, which does, indeed, have pale blue wings. These are both new birds for my life list. The Magpies were flitting between the trees in small flocks. 

In the cemetery is a large section of graves belonging to the Tokugawa family, including the grave of Tokugawa Yoshinobu, the last of the Shoguns, the Shogun that ultimately stepped down to allow the Meiji Restoration in 1868 that returned Japan to Imperial rule. 

Among the most interesting of the temples was Jomyoin, known for its rows and rows of Jizo statures – 84,000 of them according to a local map of the area. I estimated that, in reality, there are about 7,000, but 7,000 is enough to create an effect. Jizo, or O-jizo-sama if you're being polite, was originally a Boddhisatva in Indian Buddhism but he usually appears in Japan as a stone statue in the form of a monk. Jizo statues, most often with red caps or bibs (or both) that are thought to ward off evil, are frequently placed at temples where they are revered particularly as guardians of children, especially of the souls of children that have died before their parents. You also frequently see them along pathways and roadways where they are placed as protectors of travelers. I've always been found of these statues. Sometimes they have a spooky look, especially when encountered alone in the woods, but usually they have a friendly aspect that has made them widely popular. Frequently you see offerings of food, beer, liquor, and small change at O-Jizo-sama's feet.

The evening was spent with friends who operate a restaurant in Roppongi where we enjoyed good food, good wine, and good conversation.

Places I'm Visiting: Tokyo 2025

 Back in Tokyo for the first time in about a year, I did little on my first day beyond meeting up with my wife for a stroll up Kagurazaka to La Gratitude, a petite French restaurant run by a friend and her husband, where we had a perfect meal washed down with a tasty bottle of Grenache from the south of France. The label made a point of noting that it was produced without added sulfites. I can't say I noticed a difference because of that, but the wine was good – an exemplary expression of the grape. The more I drink Grenache wines the more I realize that the flavors I enjoy in Southern Rhône wines are as much a function of the grape as they are of the terroir. 

On day two, I got some business out of the way, talking to prospective clients as I go back to being a freelance translator, retiring from full-time work as an in-house translator for a major European bank. We spent the morning in Shin Okubo, in the area around the station, which is known for its sweets shops, Southeast Asian restaurants (including many offering Halal foods for muslim customers from countries such as Bangladesh, Indonesia, Nepal, and India) and also for "love hotels" – hotels with rooms for discreet meetings available by the hour. We found a satisfying lunch at a popular Korean restaurant called Tejeonde that sported a confusing menu – a perfect example of the Japanese tendency to cram as much text and as many pictures as possible into the available space. Say what you will about the Japanese aesthetic sense, but graphic design is not a strength here. The food was good if not the presentation of the choices. 

Along the way, I spotted a vending machine that sells nothing but sweet crepes. There's virtually nothing you can't find in a vending machine in Japan. Later, walking around Shinjuku, we tunneled through Omoide Yokocho, a narrow alley lined with tiny shops and restaurants. 

In the evening, we joined some old friends for a ride up and down the Sumida River on a yakatabune (a long, low, covered boat that  serves food and drink on river excursions, a tradition that goes back hundreds of years). The cherry blossoms visible along the river are near full bloom. Rain today and yesterday has held them back, but clear, warm weather tomorrow is expected to bring out a flush of new flowers. I'm looking forward to seeing the flowers tomorrow and to visiting some of the record stores in Shinjuku. 

The boat departed from Shinagawa. Shinagawa is an area of the city I didn't frequent when I lived in Tokyo, but it was never a very fashionable district and it always gave the impression of having been left behind, but since I last was there it has been completely redeveloped – like so much of Tokyo. Today, there's hardly an old building to be seen.

Places I'm visiting: Japan 2024 Day Two

Had a fairly random day of wandering in Tokyo yesterday. Spent the morning in Shibuya looking at guitars with my son and then visited one of Tokyo's giant record stores, in this case Tower Records (still alive and well in Japan), with its eight floors of offerings. I spent my time on the 8th floor, which is entirely classical. The selection is amazing. Thousands and thousands of CDs and LPs to look at. 

The Japanese have a tendency to be very thorough about everything they go about. In another record store I stopped into, the storage accessory section (outer sleeves and inner sleeves of every description) alone was as big as a small record store at home. 

Earlier, I came across a store selling children's school backpacks, which are a big deal in Japan. They are typically red or black, made of high-quality leather, built to last, costing hundreds of dollars. This store had an unusual range of these all in pastel colors and with large bows – fancy backpacks for the children of the well to do. I didn't look at the prices. 

I wandered through a Sunday morning farmers market. Expensive strawberries were a hot item. A lot of artisan bread. Handmade kitchen utensils. Carrots. Eggs. The carrots in many colors. 

Later in the day, visited Kagurazaka, the neighborhood I lived in when Tokyo was my home. It has changed a great deal. All my favorite restaurants are gone. The area has been tidied up and prettied up with new buildings. There were a few familiar storefronts, though. The noodle shop at the bottom of the street that I used to go to for tempura soba is still there. The Mosburger next door remains. I walked by the two apartments that I lived in that are nearby. The second of these backs on to the compound where the chief  justice of Japan's Supreme Court lives. At the entrance the  guard stationed there 24 hours a day was at his post. As if I'd never left. 

Feet aching from walking, we rested at a fancy Kagurazaka coffee shop where the prices for a cup of joe ranged from about eight dollars to about 15 dollars. Here was another example of the Japanese doing nothing by halves. Each cup is individually brewed and delivered to your table by a uniformed waitress in the beaker it was brewed in, the coffee then poured at the table, the ritual as important as the product. I was happy to pay for the rest that the visit afforded. The place reminded me of a San Francisco Chinatown teahouse in its design with its square cubicles and heavily detailed ceiling. 

We had had extraordinary luck with food at lunchtime, in Shibuya, on spec adding ourselves to the end of a line that had formed in front of Tokyo Tarako, a restaurant that serves nothing but mentaiko (salted cod roe or pollock roe) spaghetti. Absolutely delicious. Mine came with a small pat of herbed butter to melt on top. Many of the selections came with little pots of broth (made from kelp and bonito flakes) that you add to make Japanese-style soup-spaghetti. A treat. Tokyo Tarako is at Shibuya 1 Chome-14-9. They appear to have a sister restaurant in Harajuku as well. At dinner time, we were not so lucky. It was a Sunday night, many stores and restaurants were closed. We were craving good sushi, but had to settle for mediocre yakitori in Jimbocho, the district I worked in as an English teacher when I first arrived in Tokyo. 

Along the way, we passed Yasukuni Shrine, controversial because it enshrines all of Japan's WWII war dead, including the men designated as Class A war criminals by the post-war Tokyo Tribunal. It's a pretty spot, despite the controversy. Pictured here is  the large copper torii at the main entrance. 

 

Places I'm visiting: Japan 2024 Day One

In Tokyo now for the first time in I don't know how many years – 10 maybe? The cat at home is being taken care of by one of my son's friends who is staying at the house while we're away (Thanks, Jason). 

Needless to say, international jet travel is nothing new, but it always feel a bit surreal to board an airplane in one country and then to deplane a quarter of the way around the world only a few hours later. At the same time, having lived in Tokyo nearly 20 years, stepping into the city feels oddly 'normal'. It almost feels like I never left. Quickly the old instincts kick in. In particular, the skill of navigating through crowds, honed over many years, comes back unbidden. Keep to the left, but stay between the edge of the flow going one way and the oncoming flow of people. Don't make eye contact with the oncoming traffic when you need to slip through a tight space. Be polite, but don't hesitate. Almost as if I never left...

Much is the same, but it's easy to note differences. Some are obvious. Even in places that once were quite familiar, landmarks are gone. At the East exit of Shinjuku station the large panels that once were used for advertising the newest movies are no longer there (I can remember when these were actually painted by hand). Everywhere are new tall buildings that I can't identify. There are many, many more foreigners than there used to be. Everyone, Japanese and non-Japanese alike has a mobile phone. 

Other differences are more subtle. Taxis were once almost exclusively sedans (usually Toyotas painted yellow) but everywhere now I see stocky black taxis reminiscent of London taxis. I asked a driver who told me they were introduced ahead of the Tokyo Olympics and that they were, in fact, modeled on the London cab. The 'hatsu nori' (initial fare) price was ¥720 when I left last, but now it is ¥500. At first, I thought the fare had been reduced, but I've learned that that ¥500 today buys you only the first kilometer. ¥720 used to buy you the first two. Every taxi has a GPS now – a very welcome development considering the confusing address system used in Japan; taxi drivers can actually get you where you're going now, although they seem no better at driving smoothly. There are video screens in the back of the cabs. Gone are the rows of advertising pamphlets selling things like spirulina health drinks or promoting temporary staffing agencies that I used to perfunctorily peruse on a short ride. 

The trains are subtley different. There are now announcements in English. Every station appears to have been given a letter-and-number code that I'm guessing was another innovation for the Olympics. The codes make it easy to navigate without remembering station names. The train colors are slightly different in some cases. The dangling grab-irons in some of the JR trains appear to be coordinated with the color of the train line. As in the taxis, paper advertising has in many places been replaced by LCD screens, which seem colder than the posters tucked into the curved spaces above the baggage racks that used to be there. I can remember occasionally seeing young men whose job it was to go through the cars of stopped trains at the start of the day, removing outdated posters and replacing them with new ones. Now it's all digital. I even noticed young women outside the train stations with LCD screens hung around their necks advertising clubs and restaurants. Everything is digital. Everyone on their phones...

Miscellaneous: Subtitles for a Documentary

I'd forgotten about this, but came across it again recently. In 2016, I did a small job writing the English subtitles for a short, six-minute documentary about a man in Tokyo who has been selling fish for 50 years. It's well worth watching again. 

https://vimeo.com/175922118  

Tidbits: Radu Lupu

I was very sorry to hear that pianist Radu Lupu died yesterday. He's long been a favorite. His recording of the Schubert Sonata in A Minor (D.959) is still the best in my view. 

His Brahms is great, too, but it was the Schubert D.959 recording that first brought him to my attention. Years ago, I had the unexpected privilege of being invited to dine with with Kyung-wha Chung and her entourage after a concert in Ueno, in Tokyo (another story altogether). For some reason we got on the subject of Radu Lupu. They recorded Franck and Debussy sonatas together.  I remember her calling him "a crazy man." It was something about putting his fist through a glass door—which seems a very odd thing for a pianist to do. I don't know. He may have been crazy, but he will always remain among my favorites. I heard him in recital in Tokyo sometime around 1988. He was wonderful. I was surprised, however, by his virtual baldness even then. His photos on recordings were always of him as a younger man and with more hair. Funny the things you remember...