RTW ’25 Leftovers

Posted on June 12, 2025 by admin

Summertime, and the living’s not bad. Pretty good, really. But those aren’t as catchy as the actual lyric. Time to pause posting for the summer holiday string: Flag Day, Juneteenth, Canada Day, Independence Day and Nunavut Day. Come to think of it, that’s an exceptionally representative run of holidays for North America. Back around July 13.

The flight from Chicago to Tokyo took us far north, as that flight path usually does. There was more light than I thought there would be, looking down at this moment on the February snows of the Yukon or Alaska; I’ll never know which. I could have been eying the border, for all I know, which suggests that borders are a gossamer fiction at these latitudes.

Japan

It was a happy moment when we ate at Mos Burger. One of these days, I’m going to dig out my paper copy of an article I wrote for Kansai Time Out in 1993 about four varieties of Western-style fast food chains founded in Japan, and post it. Today isn’t that day. But I can say that Mos Burger was the best of them.

As good as I remember it from 25+ years ago, the last time I went to one.

In Enoshima, near the ocean, this fellow hawks soft serve ice cream. Goo goo g’joob. Look but don’t touch.

The handsome Osaka City Central Public Hall, completed in 1918. Amazing that it survived the war and urban renewal 20 years later, those forces that generally gave modern urban Japan the boxy concrete character it enjoys today.

India

A monumental monument in New Delhi: India Gate, which honors more than 74,100 soldiers of the Indian Army who died during the Great War, and a number more in the Third Afghan War a few years later. They did their part. One of the larger relics of the Raj, unless you count things better described as legacies, such as railroad lines, parliamentary government, and the bitter feud between India and Pakistan.

While we were looking at India Gate, a group of about a dozen uniformed schoolboys, who had detached themselves from a larger group, approached me and asked where I was from. They were gleeful to hear “America,” a reaction I didn’t know anyone would have anymore, but I suppose they’ve seen a lot of our movies. A middle-aged male chaperon appeared in short order and shooed them away, while giving me a sidelong glance with a hairy eyeball, though I hadn’t precipitated the encounter in any way. I was just a suspicious foreigner, I guess.

The Taj Mahal has a fair amount of parkland around it. That means a population of monkeys, too. I spotted more monkeys in urban India than I would have anticipated. These didn’t seem to be bothered by the men, the dogs or the motorcycle.

On display at the Ghandi Museum: a Marconigram. I don’t know that I’d ever seen one of those before. Or maybe there was one on display at the Titanic Museum in Branson. Anyway, that’s one good reason to go to museums: for things once common, now curiosities. Safia Zaghloul was an Egyptian political activist of the time.

United Arab Emirates

In Dubai it seemed like there were more men at work sweeping, mopping and other cleaning of floors and other flat places, per square meter, than anywhere else I’ve ever been. There are worse things to do with cheap labor.

Not sure exactly where this was, except somewhere out on Palm Jumeirah. Must have been a wall, or like a wall, in one of the posh retail corridors winding through one of the posh resort properties amid the poshness of the island.

Note: White on green is common indeed around the world.

Desert flowers. Of course, sprinklers water that bit of terrain at regular intervals.

Germany

What’s Berlin without currywurst? They say it came into style soon after the city was divided.

What would Germany be without Ritter Sport? A giant stack of them can be seen, in their great variety, at the Hauptbahnhof in Berlin. Later, I bought about 10 squares of RS at a discount price at a Netto grocery store near our hotel. Think Aldi or Lidl, but more cluttered.

Views of the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe, Denkmal für die ermordeten Juden Europas, near the Tiergarten in Berlin. It wasn’t there in 1983.

Czech Republic

Not calling it Czechia. Or, if it ever comes to it, not calling India Bharat, either.

St. George’s Basilica. I admired the nearby St. Vitus Cathedral. That’s a grand edifice. But St. George’s has that human scale, and echoes of an even earlier time. It was completed during the time of Good King Wenceslaus.

Vladislav Hall. The site of centuries of Bohemian parties, banquets and balls, me boys. That and affairs of state.

The Dancing House. We rode a streetcar line out of our way to see it, though not that far. It wasn’t there in 1994.

A sidewalk golem in the old Jewish Quarter of Prague. The Sidewalk Golems was a relatively obscure band who sometimes toured with Irwin Hepplewhite and the Terrifying Papoose Jockeys.

This could have been over Spain or Portugal.

The last image of thousands that I took, a staggering number in any context except digital images that take practically no time or effort to make.

Daiso USA

Posted on June 9, 2025 by admin

Retail comes and goes. After we visited Jo-Ann’s – where I bought a single item, an olive-theme doormat for our deck – we went a short distance to something new. Newish, that is, to North America, but well-established in Japan: Daiso.

We hadn’t noticed this particular northwest suburban location before. Back in February, we visited one in Tokyo, which was my first time at the chain, though I’d written about it before. Worldwide, there are about 6,000 Daiso locations, with only 150 in the U.S., and even those are fairly recent arrivals.

The store has an impressive amount of inexpensive goods, and a more imaginative selection that you’d find in a dollar store. Better designed, too. Things cost money in Japan, naturally, and sometimes quite a lot, but that country doesn’t share the notion, common here in America, that if you don’t pay a lot, you deserve crappy design.

Socks and clocks, among many other items.

Also, an unusual pricing structure.

I didn’t buy one of these, because we have one – an odd souvenir from the Bluegrass Inn during a stay in ’08. More recently I used it to swat moths.

Mangled English, no extra charge. An authentic Japanese touch.

The Quick and the Dead

Posted on June 5, 2025 by admin

In Japan, it was never necessary to have a car. In theory, one could wish such a condition for North America, but I wouldn’t want to give up the option of getting in a vehicle and driving a few hundred miles at a go, or further, to seek out fun roads.

There are probably similarly engaging roads in Japan, but I prefer trains there. We took quite a few during the recent visit. Some were crowded, as subways in rush hour tend to be, but none required the assistance of white-gloved train employees shoving passengers into cars – an image known to gaijin lore as much as the vending machines that sell weird items, but one I never saw at any time, even during rush hours in the ’90s. (And the vast majority of Japanese vending machines sell drinks.)

Scenes on the trains.

Almost everyone was paying attention to their phones, but not quite everyone. Still, the fellow reading a book – maybe manga – was a rarity this time around. Thirty years ago, half the car would have been reading physical books.

The train from Kamakura to the seaside spot of Enoshima runs along the ocean for a while, inspiring some passengers to take pictures of the scene.

Unfortunately this time there was no time to visit that most beautiful of cemeteries in Japan or anywhere else: Okuno-in at Koya-san, which is about an hour’s train ride from central Osaka. But there was a cemetery near where we stayed, a more ordinary one in the far reaches of suburban Osaka. I don’t know its name.

It is essentially just a sliver of land not dedicated to anything else. Around it is a short fence.

Around that is a neighborhood.

It also happens to be the location of my mother- and father-in-law’s memorial and ashes.

RIP, Enomoto-san.

Kamakura Stroll Garden

Posted on June 4, 2025 by admin

On the extensive grounds of Tsurugaoka Hachimangu Shrine in Kamakura – or maybe a separate entity adjacent to the shrine, it wasn’t quite clear – was a garden that managed to sport flowers in mid-February.

Part of the gardeners’ strategy seemed to be tepee-like straw structures over the blooms, many of them ‘mid the garden stones.

There must be a word for that sort of cover. In English or Japanese or some other language, and it must work somehow, though speaking as a non-gardener, it doesn’t look like it would keep cold air out. The area is roughly the same latitude as Nashville or Oklahoma City, certainly far enough north for some chilly winter days, though presumably the ocean off Kamakura moderates temps somewhat in Kamakura. Anyway, it does get cold there, as this detailed climate page notes.

Or maybe the growing season is longer than it used to be. Whatever could be the cause of that?

Not every floral growth was covered.

Even without flowers, the place made for a pleasant stroll in an elegant setting.

What would a kaiyushiki teien, a stroll garden, be without bamboo?

Or a stone lantern?

After we strolled the garden, we made our way to the Kamakura Daibutsu, the Big Buddha, a bronze of many tons that somehow makes you think about impermanence. As February days go, the one in Kamakura was top-notch.

Birdman of Osaka Castle Park

Posted on June 3, 2025 by admin

In Chinese city parks during our visit in 1994, it was fairly common to see (mostly) elderly men out for a walk with their birds. Their songbirds in cages, that is, which the men carried along with them and would hang somewhere nearby while they rested on benches. This article at least asserts that the practice goes back to the Qing Dynasty, which was founded in 1644. I’d never seen such a thing before anywhere else, and not since, until we visited Osaka Castle Park in February.

Note the fellow in the blue jacket and blue hat, near one of the former castle walls, with birds perched on his head and shoulders. He seemed to be out for a stroll with his birds.

They were living, chirping birds that would periodically fly away, but they would also come back. The bird at the left bottom corner of the image was one of his as well, tethered to a string he’s grasping with his hand. Guess that was a bird in training.

Of course, Japan is not China, however much the Japanese borrowed from China in earlier centuries. Bird walking wasn’t one of those borrowings, so I believe this man and his birds were eccentric outliers who eschewed cages for freedom of movement. Still, the level of training is impressive. It’s one thing to train the birds to return – carrier pigeons do that – but do they know to go somewhere else when it’s time to drop a load? I’d hope so, but I don’t know whether that is possible.

Even in winter, Osaka Castle Park (Osaka-jo Koen, 大阪城公園) is a pleasant place to stroll. We didn’t enter the castle itself, where we’d both been a few times before, but took in some nice views of it.

Many of the trees are plums. They are the first to blossom, and we could see the very beginnings of buds, but we were too early for full flowering.

Later, peach and cherries blossom in the park, though the place to see cherry blossoms in Osaka without the crowds in 1990s – and there were always crowds in the large parks, including the grounds of the Japan Mint – was Osaka Gogoku Shrine in Suminoe Ward. I’ll bet it still is.

Japanese Food

Posted on June 2, 2025 by admin

Take a pork cutlet, a nice thin one but not too thin, dredge a bit in flour, dip in beaten egg, coat with panko, and deep fry in light oil. Serve sliced so that the pieces are easier to manage with chopsticks, and with a brown Worcestershire-y sauce (but better, I think). Add a bed of lettuce, and sides of rice, miso and Japanese pickles.

A modest dish, but there’s nothing quite like a good tonkatsu. It is an example of salaryman food. Of course, other people eat it – a lot in my case, since the happy day sometime in 1990 when I had it for the first time. But in the lunchtime domain of male office workers in dense Osaka, the Kitchen of Japan, tonkatsu is a familiar regular (and in other parts of the country, too). They are little works of fragrant and delicious art whose purpose is to be eaten for the pocket money that their wives allow them for lunches.

Naturally, I sought it out during my recent days in Japan. This one is before the application of sauce. It’s the legacy of a Japanese adaptation of a European, specifically French dish, back in the 19th century. A detail from the Meiji era.

Another popular adaptation in Japan, spotted among the office towers near Osaka Castle. Doughnuts have long had a home in Japan.

Yes. It was time.

Another day, during a solo wander in the streets near Midosuji Blvd., I took rest at a small coffee shop, part of a large chain.

Doutor Coffee has some 1,200 locations in East Asia, with a concentration of 900 or so in Japan and others in Taiwan, Malaysia and Singapore. I expect most of them are franchised locations, and many are along underground pedestrian ways near subways or train stations. Mine was so close to a subway station entrance, you could hear the soft beeping of the electronic tickets and the slightly louder clank of the turnstiles if you decided to pay attention.

Mostly, the place was quiet, with people setting themselves in front of their laptops or fiddling with their phones. I joined the laptop users, pecking out emails or parts of whatever article was due next.

Considering the strong dollar (in February, anyway), the tab for milk tea and a warm chocolate croissant came in less than double digits in US dollar terms. But a refreshing beverage and a tasty snack are only part of the deal: you’re also renting a place to sit.

But not a place to smoke anymore. I was a little surprised, considering how consistently tobacco smoke used to linger, or sometimes billow and swirl, in public spaces in Japan 30+ years ago. That shift oddly reminded me of visits to Preservation Hall in 1981 and 1989 (minus the jazz, of course). The first time, the jazzmen played in a room lightly clouded with smoke. Eight years later, the air was clear.

Tetsudo Wasuremono Ichi

Posted on May 4, 2025 by admin

The sign doesn’t say the winter accessories are ¥300, but rather that they start at ¥300. A critical detail, but even so the items aren’t pricey.

We’d come across a curious shop deep in the heart of Osaka.

Riding into Osaka on a Keihan regional line, we transferred to the city’s subway system, specifically the Midosuji line (御堂筋線, Midōsuji-sen), which runs under a grand avenue of that name, Midosuji Blvd., for a few miles. The Midosuji line proceeds from Umeda to Namba and beyond to places like Tennoji, names that might not mean much to the outside world, but which are old and familiar to me.

My first summer in Japan, I hung out briefly with Bernadette and Lyn, two Kiwis, and Sean, a Californian.

“I tell people at home I can speak Japanese,” Sean said one fine evening at Osaka Castle Park. He’d only been in the country a few weeks.

“Oh, yeah?” said the saucy Lyn.

“Yeah, Yodoyabashi. Hommachi. Daikokucho!”

That was a laugh. He’d rattled off some of the station names on the Midosuji line.

I digress. Yuriko and I went a few stations south, then emerged at ground level and headed east on foot, along another major avenue, though without the ginko trees or skyscrapers or wide bridges of Midosuji Blvd. I had to look up the new street’s name later: Chou-Dori, a literal translation of which would be, Middle Road.

Above Chou-Dori is a major expressway. Built under the expressway is a row of massive buildings, one after another, maybe 10 or more of them: Semba Center, the entire collection is called. Space is at a premium in urban Japan.

Each Semba Center building had entrances on either end, directly in the shadow of the expressway, and each building – at least the half-dozen or so we walked through – was packed with discount retailers, lining each side of a hall that ran the entire length of the building. You want discounters in Osaka, this is the place to come, Yuriko told me. Clothes, mostly, including more than one cloth merchant, but also household goods and decorative items.

At Semba Center Building No. 9, 3-3-110 Senbacho, Chuo-ku, Osaka (to give its full address) is Tetsudo Wasuremono Ichi.

That is, the Railroad Forgotten Items Store. It’s a store that sells items left on JR trains – presumably Osaka-area JR trains, since I know there is an equivalent store in Tokyo. Many millions of people use those trains every day, so it stands to reason that there is a constant flow of many left items, all the time.

JR must have a deal with the store owner, the details of which hardly matter, though I suppose the railroad acts as a wholesaler of items left over a few months (some details are here). I’ll bet really valuable items aren’t sold that way, though. If somehow your Brasher Doubloon ended up in the JR lost and found, it would mean you were grossly careless, someone who found it had no idea what it was, and a JR-favored coin dealer would get to buy it.

Be that as it may, people leave behind a lot of umbrellas. In Osaka, there’s no excuse to pay full price for an umbrella.

The place is well stocked with clothes, too.

Many are the small items. Seems only reasonable.

People lose some odd things.

There’s enough readable text for me probably to figure out what this is, but somehow not knowing is more satisfying as a travel memory.

Tsurugaoka Hachimangu Shrine, Kamakura

Posted on April 27, 2025 by admin

In my experience, most visits to Japanese cities start by getting off a train. Most, but not all. In Kamakura, it did.

Torii (鳥居) gates also mark a beginning. Gate gates, in other words, though a torii is a special kind of gate, either marking an entrance to a Shinto shrine or the road to a shrine. (Most of the time.) Not far from the Kamakura main train station is one such gate.

Past it is Komachi-dori, which leads almost directly to Tsurugaoka Hachimangu Shrine. It’s a pedestrian shopping street, which are fairly common in Japan. Less common is that it has a name, since many streets in that country do not. Addresses are determined by increasingly small subdivisions of the land, a system that takes some getting used to, but which seems to work for the Japanese.

Komachi-dori is packed with shops, cafes and restaurants.

Standard souvenirs are widely available. Standard for Japan, that is.

Other places are more unusual, even for Japan. At one shop, you can have a belt custom made.

Who knows, artisanal belts might be the rage now. ¥6000 as of today is a bit less than $42, and in February would have been a little less than $40, and maybe worth it, considering the low quality of mass-produced belts that sell for half that much or so. But we didn’t stop in.

We also took a pass on Kamakura Pig Park.

A place where you can have coffee or tea, and play with “micro pigs,” it seems. I understand there is a trend toward cute animal cafes, often cats. We saw one of those on the street as well.

Tsurugaoka Hachimangu Shrine is a large Shinto complex, founded in the 11th century of the Common Era and getting a boost during the Kamakura shogunate not long after. The grounds include some handsome structures, smaller and larger.

The structures aren’t 1,000 years old, owing to the usual cycle of destruction and reconstruction common to wooden buildings. The Meiji government ordered some of the destruction in the 19th century, when it decided that Buddhism and Shinto had to be separate things. Previously rampant syncretism between the two in Japan had been the order of the day, but apparently that would never do, and so a fair number of sacred sites were thus destroyed, including structures at Tsurugaoka Hachimangu.

The stairs to the main sanctuary.

The “semi-mythical” Emperor Ojin, according to a sign in Japanese and English, is enshrined there as a kami. As far as I can tell, there isn’t agreement on whether such a human ruler of that name actually existed back in the first millennium CE, but I expect a niggling little detail like that wouldn’t bother a kami.

Prayers.

Speaking of torii, these mark the path to a sub-shrine, Maruyama Inari.

Small, but that is presumably all the god of rice, agriculture and prosperity Inari needs, to do whatever it is kami do.

Dotonburi & Hozenji Temple, Osaka

Posted on April 21, 2025 by admin

There he is, Glico Man.

A lot of people want to emulate Glico Man.

Or at least acknowledge him.

Gilco Man may be a mascot for the Japanese food conglomerate of that name – the Osaka food conglomerate, maker of Pocky sticks – but he’s pretty much a one-trick pony on the sign at least, exuberant at his racing victory. Still, everyone in Osaka knows him, since the sign in one form or another — LED these days, neon before — has been displayed for 90 years over Ebisu Bridge (Ebisubashi) where it crosses the Dotonbori Canal.

Dotonburi is the name of the canal, which is an early Edo period (17th century) enlargement of a river, but it is also the name of the district. A packed place even by Japanese standards, replete with restaurants, bars and other small business, many of whom advertise themselves in highly visual ways. When photographers, pro and casual, want to take flashy nighttime images of Osaka, with walls of neon and LED advertising and crowds filling the pedestrian avenues, Dotonburi is where they go.

We were there during the day, joining the crowds, both on the bridge and on Dotonburi’s side streets.

Nice view from the bridge.

Something I wouldn’t have expected in February, but we did see something similar in December.

When enthusiastic fans of the Hanshin Tigers baseball team really want to celebrate, they jump into the canal. Forty years ago during an especially exuberant moment, they found a life-sized advertising statue of Col. Sanders at a nearby KFC and dropped that into the canal, where it was unrecovered until 2009. The Tigers were pretty much a doormat team during the period when the Colonel was lost – mere coincidence?

A sort of Ferris wheel, looking out over the canal. It wasn’t there in the 1990s. We considered a ride, but it looked like it was moving awfully slow.

One of my favorite features of Dotonburi is the 3D restaurant advertising.

Hidden away in the nearby streets mostly too small for vehicles but well adorned with odd things —

— is Hozenji Temple.

“Built in 1637, Hozenji Temple pays homage to Fudo Myoo, one of five guardians of Buddhism,” notes Travel Japan. “During the 1600s, Namba and the surrounding area of Dotonbori were blossoming as a center for entertainment, with dramatic performances of kabuki and bunraku taking place throughout the district. Even the temple catered to the performing arts, with traditional rakugo storytelling and stage plays performed on site.”

One depiction of the Buddha.

But the temple is better known for its statue of Fudo Myoo.

Covered with moss, he is.

Because the thing to do is toss water on the statue. Keeps him hydrated. I took a turn myself, because who I am to deny Fudo Myoo a nice cup of water?

Tsuyu Tenjinsha Shrine (Ohatsu Tenjin), Osaka

Posted on April 13, 2025 by admin

Tucked away in the Umeda district of Osaka – a sort of downtown, with a heavy concentration of office, hotels and retail, along with the city’s busiest train station – is a Shinto shrine whose early history tends to be described (in English, anyway) using such phrases as “said to be” and “legend has it.”

While crossing on a pedestrian overpass a few days after arriving in Japan, I noticed the main torii for Tsuyu Tenjinsha Shrine (Ohatsu Tenjin). I must have visited the shrine in the 1990s. But when I got there this time, I had no memory of it. An odd feeling.

Clearly not ancient construction, or even that old. The U.S. Army Air Corps swept the area with a broom of fire in 1945, necessitating a reconstruction a decade or so later. A machine translation from the shrine web site tells of its hazy early centuries.

“[The] shrine was established on its current site, which was one of the small islands in Osaka Bay, to worship Sumiyoshi Sumuji Sone no Kami, and it is one of the former sites of the Naniwa Yasoshima Festival…

“The date of its founding is unclear, but since the Naniwa Yasoshima Festival can be traced back to the third year of the Kasho era (850) during the reign of Emperor Montoku, and the area is said to have been in place by the time of Emperor Kinmei in the sixth century, the origins of this shrine can be inferred to date back to that time.”

One of many such old shrines dotting the Kansai, in other words, many of which may still be around but which are still small, honoring obscure kami. But this one happened to be at the heart of Osaka during the Meiji era boom, and apparently grew with the city.

“The opening of the first Osaka Station in 1894 and Hankyu Railway Umeda Station in 1905 spurred the development of the area, and this shrine has come to be revered as the central guardian deity of Umeda and Sonezaki, in the heart of Osaka’s ‘kita’ [north] area,” the shrine notes.

That may be, but that isn’t why many people go there in our time. They go to offer prayers asking for better fortune in their romantic lives, whatever form that might take. Since I visited only a few days ahead of St. Valentine’s Day – another example of any number of cross-cultural WTFs you can find in Japan – the shrine was thick with prayers written on pink paper hearts.

I understand these slightly more permanent wooden plaques, known as ema, are young girls praying for beauty.

Why is this shrine associated with romance? That’s better attested, and something of an accident of history.

“Today the shrine is better known for its romantic associations, as it is a key setting of the bunraku puppet play: The Love Suicides of Sonezaki,” notes Osaka Station.

“The play tells the tragic story of two star-crossed lovers, the geisha Ohatsu and the apprentice trader Tokubei, and it was supposedly based on a historical double suicide that took place at the shrine in 1703. In the play an unfortunate combination of family pressures, financial misfortune, and the betrayal of a friend, threaten to keep the lovers apart. Unable to live without each other, they meet at the shrine and take their own lives.”

What is the opposite of star-crossed lovers, anyway? Star-aligned, maybe; one of those couples who end up celebrating a diamond anniversary without having grown to hate each other.

The popular name of the shrine, Ohatsu Tenjin, refers to the geisha of the story. Ohatsu and Tokubei are acknowledged at the shrine.

The shrine is surrounded by the buildings of Umeda and from its precincts you can exit into a shopping street. As with most such pedestrian streets in Japan, there are many small eateries.

I didn’t go there, but I can’t say I wasn’t curious.

Been There, Seen That

By Dees Stribling

Category Archives: Japan