A Fish Out of Water

Ogasawara, Part One

Last month I briefly mentioned a recent trip:

And just last week I was whisked away for a surprise free trip to, well, you'll find out soon enough. It involved a few days of heaven, a few hours of hell, and exciting events like almost getting eaten by a (probably) imaginary shark and finally finding out what and where Canada's famed (in Japan only) "Maple Kaido" is.

Well, the trip was to the Ogasawara Islands, and it was one of the best things that happened to me in ages. So it's about time I blogged about it.

I was chosen as one of 10 foreigners to take part in a six day "fam tour" (I didn't know what it meant either) to the islands, with the Tokyo government footing the bill. With us were two Tokyo government employees, two representatives of a travel consultant company, and one of Japan's leading travel experts.

You might be wondering how on earth I managed to get in on this, and I still have no idea, other than really good luck. You might also be thinking that a free trip sounds too good to be true, and wondering what the catch was. The only catches were this: the trip was full of pre-planned tours leaving very little free time to our own thing, and we had to give our impressions of the islands and our advice for improving tourism services for foreign visitors. This involved two meetings with local tourism people as well as filling out a lengthy questionnaire, and although I tried to fulfill my duties well I am sure I got the better end of the bargain than the Tokyo government did.

You might also be wondering where on earth the Ogasawara Islands are, so read on: they are about 1000 km south of Tokyo, and like the Izu Islands are actually part of the municipality of Tokyo. But it would be hard to find a place that's more different from Japan's capital: these beautiful islands are lush with tropical vegetation and dotted with gorgeous white sand beaches. And they're sparsely populated: only two islands are inhabited by civilians, with Chichijima and Hahajima (literally "Father Island" and "Mother Island") sharing 2244 residents between them. Among the other 30 or so islands is one you've probably heard of: Iwo Jima (now called Iwoto in Japanese), currently used by the Self Defense Forces and the American Navy for training but off-limits to regular folk.

The Ogasawaras are also know as the Bonin Islands in English, Bonin being a corruption of the old Japanese name Bunin, which meant "uninhabited". That's exactly what the islands were until they were colonized in 1830 by a small group of Americans and Hawaiians, with Japanese, Europeans and other Pacific Islanders eventually settling in as well. Residents were evacuated from the islands during WWII, and although non-Japanese were allowed to return under American occupation, Japanese residents were only allowed back when the Ogasawaras were returned to Japan in 1968.

Because of the islands' distance from other islands many plants and animals evolved in isolation, and thanks to the relatively late introduction of human inhabitants most of those species are fairly well-preserved. Well over 100 unique species can be found on the Ogasawaras, and the waters abound with sea life, including dolphins, whales, sea turtles and the giant squid (including the first giant squid to be captured on film), earning the islands the unofficial title "The Galapagos of the East". The Ogasawara Islands are currently being evaluated for World Heritage status, and if its granted (a decision will be made in 2011) an increase in tourism, particularly by non-Japanese, is expected.

Most of the information above I learned from research after I was accepted as a participant for the tour. Before that I had heard only three things about the Ogasawaras: that they were very far away, that some horrible stuff had happened there during the Second World War, and that marijuana is rumoured to grow wild all over the place and thus the islands are popular with a certain subset of people. Of those three things the first two proved to be true and the third, although I saw a few people who definitely looked like they enjoyed the devil weed, I never did see any growing wild. Not that I was looking or anything.

So now that the introductions are out of the way you may be wondering why, if Ogasawara is so great, I haven't visited before? Because a ferry ride is the only practical way to get there, and it takes 25.5 hours and costs 23,250 yen (plus fuel surcharge) for the cheapest one-way ticket. There is no airport or high speed ferry service (both have been considered but ultimately failed to come about), so pretty much the only choice is to take the Ogasawara Maru from Tokyo to Chichijima. That 25.5 hours, by the way, is only in good weather (in bad weather the journey can take much longer or even be canceled) and its another couple hours on a different boat to get to Hahajima. Throughout most of the year the ferry goes back and forth once a week, so the absolute shortest trip you can take is six days.

There are a few alternatives, but the occasional private cruise ship or military helicopter flight is likely beyond the reach of most, and although it's possible to save a little bit of money by booking a passage on a freight ship that regularly visits the island, the trip takes over two days and has very limited spots for passengers.

Still, those who have the time and the money (or are lucky enough to snag a free trip) will find a visit to the islands more than worth the hassle. This was one of the most beautiful places I've been, and I liked it so much that someday I hope to actually go on my own dime.

We set sail from Tokyo's Takeshiba Sanbashi Pier on November 25th last year. That's the Ogasawara Maru above (or at least the part of it that would fit in my viewfinder), but those aren't Tokyo skies- we were a bit rushed that morning so I took this after we arrived in Chichijima. No, the skies over Tokyo were grey and dull, making me really glad to be leaving. Below is the view while we were heading through Tokyo Bay:

At Takeshiba we were all introduced, and given a speech and send off from the president of Mile Post Consultants, the company arranging the trip. We looked like a promising bunch, and I was pleased to have already met two of the other participants. Here we are, in a picture taken the next day while on a tour of Chichijima:

Back row, from left: Fukawa-san, general manager of marketing and planning at Mile Post; Charles, New Zealander and founder of Bungy Japan in Minakami; Helen, a translator also from New Zealand, who I know online from a few forums (including eGullet) and had met once with a few other eGulleters for lunch; Maya from Bulgaria, Outbound Travel Rep at the Japan Association of Travel Agents; me; a mainland Tokyo government staffer whose name escapes me; Mark, an Australian who runs HappyRaft in Shikoku; our local tour guide that day (not accompanying us on the ferry); Saito-san, marketing and planning manager at Mile Post; and another mainland Tokyo government employee whose name I can't remember. Front row, from left: Tim, an American studying law in a Japanese university; Laura, a British translator; Kobayashi-san, secretary general of the Japan Ecotourism Society and director of the Evolution Tourism Institute; Australian Robert, general manager of Elanex Japan KK, a translation company; Mike, a New Zealander who owns Canyons in Minakami, who I'd met briefly when I did some rafting and canyoning up there a few years ago; Han, a business lady from China; and a local Tokyo government employee (not with us on the ferry).

All in all an impressive bunch, and soon I was wondering why I was there with them. I was certainly the least accomplished of the foreigners, and also the least fluent in Japanese. Which mattered, because the entire tour would be conducted in Japanese, as well as the questionnaire at the end. But what the hell, I was there so I vowed to make the most of it.

This was my seventh trip out of Tokyo Bay (the ferries to Oshima and Mikurajima follow the same route) so I didn't feel the need to linger up on deck to enjoy the view, which is not very enjoyable (at least by daylight) anyway. Besides, it was freezing, and the winter jacket I'd figured would be too hot was barely enough to keep the wind out. So I went I checked out my room instead.

There are only two classes- 1st and 2nd- but a number of options within each one, and our rooms were lower 1st class. They had four beds, a little table and chairs, a TV and DVD player (not knowing about the DVD player- there was also a library of DVDs to borrow- I had brought my laptop and a several DVDs, which I instantly regretted), and a view. The room would have cost 46,500 yen per person plus fuel surcharge and although the picture makes it look cramped, it was quite nice by ferry standards. I've done lower 2nd class, the cheapest option available, on a 9 hour trip from Hokkaido to Aomori and a 24 trip from Kyushu to Okinawa, and sharing a floor with dozens of other people, many of them drunk, is not nearly as fun as it sounds; upper 2nd class on the ferry to Mikurajima has similar bunks but in a much more cramped room with about a dozen other people and no extras like seats or a TV. So it may not look like much, but we were traveling in style.

Although the rooms were for four people they kindly put only two of us in each room. My roommate was Laura, who came across as laid back but soon revealed a wicked sarcastic edge and a bit of a party girl attitude. Soon after we'd settled in she whipped out a mickey of whiskey and took a generous gulp, then thoughtfully held the bottle out to me. I declined, seeing as I was terrified that my seasickness meds weren't going to work, and well, it was barely 10:30 in the morning. But I took it as a good sign. This was definitely going to be an interesting trip.

I spent the day exploring the ship, reading through the heaps of tourist brochures and we'd received, and getting to know my fellow tourists. Poor Laura soon was hit was a killer bout of seasickness and spent most of the trip in bed (apparently whiskey doesn't guard against motion sickness- who knew), so I tagged along with Helen and Maya. We made frequent trips to the decks to watch passing islands (pretty much the entire Izu Islands chain can be seen on route, but night fell before we could see them all) and check the weather. By the time the sun was setting, above, it had warmed up considerably, and my jacket was packed away until the return trip.

After the sunset we broke out the snacks, some brought from home, some bought on board. And when adults and snacks get together in Japan there is always alcohol involved, so we stocked up on that too. I was surprised at the wide amount of adult beverages available on board: beer and sake, of course, but with a far better selection than is the norm, along with wine- in bottles and cans(!)- and two products of the islands: rum and passion fruit liqueur. I settled for some rum and Diet Coke, vowing to take a picture of the rum bottle later when the light was better (but never getting around to it, which is just as well because the rum, sadly, was terrible).

Like all ferries in Japan, this had a small concessionary selling souvenirs and basic toiletries, vending machines all over the place selling snacks, soft drinks and alcohol, and a snack bar offering curry rice, ramen and such. It also had a few things I'd never seen before, like a number of lounges, a children's playroom, a DVD library and viewing room, a karaoke room, and a full service restaurant. The restaurant was actually quite decent, if a little pricey, and although I was pretty full from snack time we had a late dinner there.

I had a bowl of oden (seafood, eggs, vegetables and other tidbits simmered in a salty broth) and a small bottle of wine of a type that I would never normally buy, but when in vacation mode almost anything tastes nice.

Next morning I awoke to discover the grey skies were long gone and it was t-shirt weather. I slept through the sunrise, unfortunately, but the view of the blue sky and wispy clouds was pretty enough.

Soon I could spot seabirds like this katsuodori (brown booby) and the occasional flying fish. The birds were flying alongside the us, waiting to spot flying fish as they escaped from the boat, and I was treated to many a dive, although I never got to see a successful catch. What I was really hoping to see was whales or dolphins, which can sometimes be seen from the ferry, but none materialized.

A tourism official from the islands was on board and gave a talk about the islands' wildlife (he'd also given a slide show about tourism in general the night before). I'm not sure if this is a regular thing on the ferry, but it was nice to learn a little, and even nicer to have something to do.

Finally we spotted land. I think many of the little islands were named as we passed but I didn't bring my notebook for the lecture so have no idea what they are, except that they began with the Mukojima group of islands and ended up at the Chichijima group.

Probably the Mukojima Islands.

Maybe the northern tip of Chichijima.

Definitely Chichijima.

And then, finally we entered Chichijima's Futami Bay, and our long journey was over. 

Part Two to is here. Check out more pictures from the ferry here, and pictures from the entire trip here.

New Year's

Like every year, this past oshogatsu (New Year holiday) was all about food, starting with a crab feast that featured the impressive looking claw above.

We spent the holidays in Osaka with my in-laws, Hideaki enjoying his last bit of freedom and staying for a leisurely eight days, me staying for four thanks to my work schedule. Although it was a short stay for me it didn't feel as rushed as usual, perhaps because I went by shinkansen (bullet train) rather than by plane like my husband usually insists on. I vastly prefer the shinkansen, and although it takes a little longer it is a much more comfortable and civilized way to travel, so when I'm on my own I always choose the train.

I arrived on New Year's Eve, just in time for dinner. My brother-in-law had sent four crabs from Kushiro, Hokkaido, an annual tradition. They were already boiled and were served in the typical Japanese style: the legs cracked off and scored to allow diners to open them with their hands. No melted butter or condiments of any kind, since the crabs were all tasty enough not to need anything.

First there was the fearsomely spiky hanasakigani (spiny king crab or blue king crab), above. This had very firm flesh and a strong crab flavour and yielded the most meat, but was the toughest to eat- not only were the spikes sharp and numerous, but the shell was very thick.

Next, two kegani (hairy crabs), which was easy to open, thanks to the softer shell, but has so little meat that you really have to work to get a mouthful. The flesh is soft and flaky and the flavour sweet and delicate, and it has the best miso (innards).

There was also tarabagani (red king crab), which Goldilocks would declare to be just right: easier to open than the hanasaki but much more meat than the kegani, the flesh not too tough and not too flaky, neither too strong nor too subtle in flavour. Like every year, we felt extremely lucky to be able compare three different types of crab.

After the crab was the traditional toshikoshisoba (year-crossing noodles), mine topped with nishin (partially dried herring). And then we got to work on another tradition:

Addressing our nengajo (New Year's postcards). We'd actually got them made early this year, or I should say Hideaki got them done early- for the first time ever he made them all by himself, and a very good job he did. But handwriting the addresses and messages got put off and we found ourselves madly trying to get them done before midnight (you are actually supposed to do it by December 25th, but because we're both procrastinators we consider New Year's Eve to be our deadline). The tigers, 2010 being the Year of the Tiger, are a rather untraditional colour (they are actually more orange than the crimson they appear here), since for some reason tigers are always depicted as being yellow here, which just doesn't look right to me. The message says Akemashite Omedetou Gozaimasu, the standard New Year's greeting, which literally means "Congratulations on the Opening [of the New Year]". The design has a lot of blank space because in Japan messages are supposed to go on the front- the back is just for addresses.

The New Year arrived and the next day we ate osechi ryouri, the traditional New Year's foods. This is actually the lunch version (osechi is served for breakfast, lunch and dinner for the first three days of the year, but in my family they differ somewhat with each meal). Show above, clockwise from the top: datemaki (an omlet-like roll of eggs and steamed fish paste); umani (simmered vegetables with beef); chuuka salada (shirataki noodles with shiitake, carrot and lotus root dressed in soy sauce and vinegar); kimchi (spicy pickled Chinese cabbage); tainoko (simmered sea bream roe); and an unnamed simmered chicken dish; on the side is tempura shrimp leftover from the previous night's soba and a little vessel of otoso (sweet herbed sake). Each item has a special meaning, and many of the dishes (or at least the names) are unique to this family. The Japanese are fond of pointing out the differences in each region's osechi, but in my experiences the differences between each family are just as big. See last year's post for better explanations of osechi.

Here are two little plates of my favourite osechi. Note the kuwai (arrowroot, the funny vegetable on the right that looks like a tiny potato with a giant spike growing out of it), a vegetable only available at New Years and an important part of the umani (which in other households usually has chicken instead of beef and may be called chikuzen-ni, gameni, iridori or nishime). At the top is isobeyaki mochi, toasted rice cakes dipped in soy sauce and wrapped with nori seaweed).

For dinner on New Year's Day we have yakitai (salt-roasted sea bream), which seems to be more popular in western Japan, especially in areas like Osaka near the Setonaikai (Inner Sea) where wild bream abounds. It is meaty and delicious and very much the Japanese equivalent of our roast turkey at Christmas (it is bigger than it looks here).

It is always served with crab salad, and since we've been getting those Hokkaido crabs the crab meat is always leftover from the night before.

Here we have rice topped with mentaiko (spicy cod roe) and ikura (salmon roe); cabbage dressed with shiso (perilla); potato salad with ham and chuuka salada; and ozoni (soup with mochi).

Oshogatsu is not just about savoury food though. Alcohol abounds (this is the only time of year when people are encouraged to drink from breakfast until bedtime), although since three of us were sick there wasn't much of it this time. There are also tonnes of sweets, especially at my in-laws, who receive them as oseibo (year-end gifts) and stock up on more in order to spoil their children and grandchild. And more there are more desserts when we go visiting, like this lovely strawberry-topped cake we had a friend's get-together.

There was way more good stuff, and not all of it food-related, but as I look over my pictures I realize I hardly used my camera at all. This may be my skimpiest New Year's post ever, which is probably a relief to you readers but makes me wish I'd taken a few more shots. If you're curious about oshagatsu and want to read more, see these past posts: 2009, 2008, 2007, and 2006.

A few more holiday pictures can be seen here.

Christmas

I thought Christmas 2009 was going to be different. I went out of my way to decorate the house and feel Christmasy, unlike in 2008 when the only decoration was a tiny poinsettia that a student gave me a few days before the big day. Back then I had decided that all the fuss of decorating and cooking holiday treats wasn't worth it and wanted to see what a no-effort Christmas was like. Not surprisingly Xmas '08 made me a little sad, and I realized two things: one, that you do have to put in some effort to get that special Christmas feeling. And two, that even as a fully grown-up person, without kids, and an atheist to boot, I actually still wanted that special Christmas feeling.

So this time around I put up decorations and we even fashioned a kind of tree out of some branches (two trees actually: one on our balcony made of sticks from the park, and one inside made of a fancier branch from the florist's). I played Christmas music 'till my ears hurt, got my Christmas cards done early, and made Hideaki put up Christmas lights in our bedroom window and on our balcony.

And still Christmas never really came.

The first bad sign was after I'd done my Christmas cards, I was literally on my way out the door to mail them when I did a quick email check on my phone and got an email from my mother telling my Uncle Bill had died. Bill was to turn 100 on January 13th, and although I already had a birthday card picked out I thought I'd send him a Christmas card too, writing giant letters (an empty gesture as he was too blind to read) and hoping he'd remember who I was.

Uncle Bill had an interesting life, especially during the war. He flew with the Royal Canadian Air Force and spent time in Finland, involved in a mission so top secret that he still wouldn't discuss the details six decades later. After the war he married and lived in the Parkdale area of Toronto, where he'd grown up.

He was actually my great uncle by marriage, the husband of my father's grandmother. We weren't particularly close and I'd only met him a handful of times, but he'd kind of become part of our family in recent years. We'd been out of contact with him and his wife for decades, only getting back into touch several years ago. Aunt Mabel died ages ago, they never had kids, and our family was his closest kin, so when they regained contact my dad took responsibility for him, visiting him often at his home in Toronto and eventually moving him to a home nearby in Brampton. He was a bit senile but fairly lively for his age, with a newly developed forbidden love for chocolate and sweets (he wasn't allowed to eat them for health reasons, but dad figured at his age he deserved the pleasure and would smuggle in occasional treats for him), making jokes about how he likes to keep after-dinner mints around "for the ladies" and even once goosing a female attendant. On my last visit he had done what he always does to younger visitors: held up both fists and asked me, of my dad, "Is he giving you any trouble?". Apparently when my brother or other males visited the fists would be twirled around in an old-fashioned boxer's move, a treat I never got to see.

So although we weren't close I was really sad to hear about his passing. The timing was also sad, since he just missed his 100th birthday, but as my mom pointed out he already believed he was 102 or 103, so in his own mind he'd already passed that milestone.

The news didn't ruin Christmas though, and I was mostly just glad I'd had the chance to visit recently and that he had lived such a long life. But still Christmas didn't come. Oh sure, we tried to do some Christmasy things, starting with a visit to an event at the Tokyo International Forum (a good place to visit even when there's no event, as the building is amazing and the surrounding neighborhoods always have nice Christmas decorations). Called the "Strasbourg Christmas Market in Tokyo", it was an attempt to recreate the famed Alsatian Marche de Noel. It sounded great, with booths and artisans directly imported from the original market, Alsatian delicacies on sale, free concerts and give-aways of Alsatian wine. Alsace is one of my favourite wine regions but I haven't had a chance to try the food, so I was really looking forward to that (OK, it was the free wine that really got my attention).

I met Hideaki there after he had a job interview in the area, and we were both underwhelmed. We were too early for the concerts, no free wine was to be had, the stuff for sale in the booths was way overpriced, the tarte flambes were sold out, and the very tempting charcuterie cart above was closed without explanation (it re-opened just as we were leaving, when we were already full).

So I took a picture of the Christmas tree, imported (along with its decorations) from Alsace. As I did so passersby looked around in confusion, wondering what I could possibly be taking a picture of, as the tree was extremely tame by Japanese standards- it didn't even light up! Then we bought some overpriced grub at the one food stall that was open, eating it while we froze at the outdoor tables provided (no heaters or blankets offered).

Clockwise from top left: a nice bread with bacon and onion; some kind of potato dish with cheese, mulled apple juice, wine (variety unknown); choucroute; and quiche. The choucroute was delicious and I may have to rethink my hatred of sauerkraut (or maybe the Alsatians are just the only ones who do it right). The other stuff was good but not very hot when served and quite cold by the time we ate it.

Now that I think about it, I don't think it was the food or booths or other stuff that failed to impress me, it was the crowd: the very few people there looked miserable, which is completely normal for Tokyo but just doesn't work for a Christmas market.

December 23rd is the Emperor's birthday and thus a national holiday, so when Christmas (which of course is not a holiday here) falls on a weekday lots of folks choose the Emp's birthday to celebrate. We did so by meeting Hideaki's sister Atsuko and her family at the Tokyo Hilton for brunch. We go there every once in a while for special occasions because they put on a nice spread, but hadn't been a few years. In the time that we'd been away the place had renovated, raised both the level of their food and their prices, and been declared the best hotel buffet in Japan (a title way better than it sounds, as tonnes of hotels here do buffets and most are very good). I'd read that the buffet now included raw oysters and even had Hide call and ask, and he was told something odd: that they do have oysters but they're not actually raw, having been treated to render them safe. We'd never heard of this so were curious to see what they meant.

Sure enough, there was a mound of oysters on the halfshell over ice, and they looked like normal raw oysters. I picked a few up on my first trip to the buffet, failing to notice the sauces, and ate them plain. That's how I ate the Akkeshi oysters in Hokkaido and at that time I couldn't imagine adding any kind of flavour to an oyster. But it turns out that not all oysters are equal to Akkeshis, because these had almost zero flavour! Was it the variety of oyster or the mysterious treatment they'd undergone that did it? No idea. They had the same texture as regular raw oysters, a bit of a briny odour, but close to nothing on the palate. I later went back for some sauce, and once they were dressed up they suddenly tasted like oysters again. I think I must have had nearly twenty, which I later regretted- oysters go down so easily but are deceptively filling.

The rest of the food was good, and although the others were most impressed with the desserts, I thought the salad bar and appetizer bar was the best and also offered the biggest bang for the buck. I was already stuffed by the time I got to the hot food, above, and couldn't finish my plate.

Afterward we checked out some of Shinjuku's Christmas decorations, which Marya especially was impressed by. Believe it or not, this was the first proper light display I'd seen this Christmas- I really don't get out like I used to. We then started an Ultraman stamp rally (a stamp rally being a unique Japanese custom of bringing a special flyer around town to various locations to get a stamp from each one, usually with a reward when you've got all the stamps), Marya being an Ultraman fan, but had to cancel halfway through when I suddenly came down with a cold. Just like that- I was feeling fine one minute and the next felt like hell. So straight to home and to bed it was.

Christmas Eve I downed enough cold meds to get through the night and met my friend Emi for dinner. We usually go to Nasu to celebrate but I couldn't afford it this year, so dinner it was. We were a bit curious to see what it would be like to have a nice dinner together on this night, since Christmas Eve is considered THE date night in Japan. Women without dates on Xmas Eve are supposed to stay home in shame, and the lucky ones who do snag a date can expect an expensive present, a fancy dinner, and a few hours at a love hotel (if the guy has was smart enough to book a room months in advance, that is- Christmas Eve is the busiest night of the year for love hotels).

Like most stereotypes, this turns out to be not quite true: nobody looked as us funny and we saw lots of other women who were obviously not on dates, in groups, pairs, and even alone. The male-female couples in our restaurant, however, stayed true to the stereotype and each girl was handed a present by her man (a cashmere scarf for one and jewelry for the others, the lucky bitches).

Anyway, we ate at Cafe Table, an interior goods shop in Omotesando (selling pop-art type stuff they call "Sweet French Style") with a French restaurant decorated with their wares. It was a very cute looking place and the food was way better than my initial expectations were, although a bit gimmicky. The Christmas wreath salad had lovely bits of pate and scallop mousse, and the "cappuccino style" soup below was made with soy milk and mushrooms, with a very rich flavour and no evidence of icky soy milk.

Next was seafood (a large shrimp, squid and raw scallops) atop pesto risotto with a red pepper sauce, just lovely.

The roast beef with "Maria Maricia" sauce was less impressive, as the sauce turned out to be chocolate-based. Not like a complex and very slightly chocolaty mole sauce, but really really chocolaty. 

The dessert was a mini white yule log and ice cream with balsamico reduction. There was way too much of the sauce and the ice cream was rendered far too sour and savoury- I found myself wondering if the chef had mixed up the sauces for the meat and dessert courses.

Still, it was a very nice meal, and they gave us each a free coffee mug as we left. It's still under my Christmas tree (I mean branch), waiting for our real Christmas to come).

After dinner we checked out the Christmas lights along Omotesando. These lights were once a famous sight in Tokyo, but this is the first time they've been up in over a decade: local merchants disliked the crowds that the lights brought (at the time such displays were rare here) and worried about damage to the trees, so put an end to the displays. In the years since, the shopkeepers have looked on in envy as other neighborhoods in Tokyo started putting up lights, with displays becoming more and more elaborate and the crowds getting bigger and bigger, and I guess they realized that massive crowds are better than none at all, and the lights are back up.

The display was pretty, but it was hard to get a good view as the pedestrian bridge was closed, the street was lined with parked cars whose occupants were taking pictures, and the curbs were strewn with trash bags (must've been garbage day on Christmas).

Meanwhile, back at home, Christmas didn't develop much past the decorations. With Hideaki's job situation as it was, we weren't doing presents for each other, and of the three parcels my mother had sent only one had shown up. There were no traditional Christmas Eve presents, and the next morning we opened stockings (his was full of lame stuff from the local convenience store that I'd hastily bought on my way home the night before, mine with treats from all over that Hideaki had actually been collecting for some time- he's getting really good at Christmas!) had then one present each from my parents (the only two that made it from home). No mimosas in the morning or champagne at dinner, no turkey or even chicken- knowing that I had to recover from my cold before my upcoming ski camp job, I took it easy and let Hideaki do dinner. He did tiny but beautiful wagyu steaks, and although I could barely taste them I could definitely appreciate the melt in the mouth texture (you'd have to be near death not to appreciate that).

So, despite a lot of good eating, it was kind of a sad non-Christmas after all. It's highly embarrassing to realize that at 36 years of age I still rely on my mother to make Christmas happen, and also rather disappointing to know that I really do need all the presents, traditional cooking and other bells and whistles. How The Grinch Stole Christmas was wrong. It didn't come without packages, boxes and bags!

Wait, I'm exaggerating. I had some nice times with friends and family, the present from my mom was lovely, and we did get one very special present on Christmas: a phone call for Hide, from the company he interviewed for the previous week. He got the job!

He starts this Tuesday, and hopefully the boxes from home will arrive around the same time he gets his first paycheck, and we'll have a proper Christmas after all. A month or so late, but I'll chalk that up to the time difference.

Hope you had a merry Christmas, if Christmas is your thing! And if you're interested, a few more holiday pictures can be seen here.