Odd Stuff in and from Japan

I do hope this is just a simple translation error by Uzbekistan Airways. If it really is notice of a further tightening of Japan's recently changed and much derided immigration process, I just hope you get your fingerprints back on departure.

(Original here).

One of the nice things about Japanese trains is that, for the most part, they just work and - barring natural disaster or other acts of {insert name of favourite deity here} - are rarely late, and incidents which on the British railway system are part of daily life, such as a train conductor oversleeping resulting in the cancellation of the train, are worthy of national news coverage. One of the other nice things about Japanese trains is that when they turn up on time and stopping exactly where the markings on the platform tell you they will, they may well be decorated in some interesting and / or slightly surreal theme.

A few years ago (6, to be precise), I was bumbling around Japan on the Japan Rail Pass, heading off each day in whatever direction took my fancy, and one day fetched up on Shikoku. After visiting the Giant Sand Sculpture in the Shape of a Coin (銭形砂絵, zeni-kata sunae) at Kanonji (not a must-see item on any Japan trip, but a pleasant walk in a nice quiet town in Kagawa Prefecture), I was faintly disturbed to find myself boarding the Anpanman Train bound for Matsuyama.

(Note: I was intending to post this on Boxing Day, but Real Life got in the way: I hope the subject is still fresh in people's minds).

If you're not familiar with Japanese, the title of this entry, in Katakana script, reads "nô ichigo kurisumasu kêki": literally, "no-strawberry Christmas cake".

If you're not familiar with Japan, then "kurisumasu kêki" is not Christmas cake as you know it. For a start, it has a strawberry on top, and beneath the soft whipped-cream "icing" there's a layer or two of sponge.

If you're not familiar with my humble self, then you may not be aware that I value the strawberry as a seasonal fruit, one which ripens in June and is associated (in an ideal world) with lashings of cream, pleasant sunny afternoons early in the British summer, and the faint babble of commentary from Wimbledon in the background. The strawberry is not a fruit naturally ocurring in the midst of winter, and is as out of place on a Christmas cake as a piping hot o-nabe (Japanese stew) would be on a humid summer's day in Tokyo.

In Japan you're never far from a nice cuppa. Just head over to the nearest vending machine and grab a can of Royal Milk Tea for 120 yen. It comes pre-heated and contains 23% milk.

On second thoughts, don't. It tastes like - and in fact is - milky tea which has been kept warm in a can for a long time.

Vile.

(Note: the following will only make sense if you are familiar with 1990s UK politics).

Are your pinstriped suits sleaze-stained? Are your underpants dogged by scandal? Has hard graft taken its toll on your clothing? Then let Tory Laundry wash your reputation whiter-than-white!

Japan has a rich and varied culture of food - and in a country which places great weight on academic qualifications, you should insist your chef is the graduate of a renowned institution such as Ikebukuro's famous Tonkatsu University (とんかつ大学).

Recently someone asked me about a penguin they'd heard had been adopted by a Japanese family and which was famous for toddling off to the local fish shop with a rucksack to pick up the family's daily supply of fish (and no doubt a little extra for him or herself). I recalled having read about this same penguin, but if my brain archives were pulling up the right data, it must have been at least a decade ago. Being a bit of a penguin fan myself though, I took the opportunity to have a rummage through the internet and thanks to the wonders of YouTube here he is:

While walking from the station down to Inuboesaki (犬吠崎, the most easterly point in Chiba-ken and also famous for being the first part of mainland Japan where the sun rises on New Year's Day) I was alarmed to see what appeared to be a miniature Godzilla hatching in this restaurant carpark. I informed the appropriate authorities, and as I haven't heard any news in the meantime of a giant scaled beast tearing its way through Tokyo, I presume the matter has been dealt with.

Lexicographical note: "Inuboesaki" literally means "Cape of Barking Dogs", although on that day I didn't come across any. The gentleman on the bike indicated they had been either scared away or eaten following a recent spate of mysterious incidents involving a large, reptile-like creature.