Sunday, 27 February 2011

Day 14: Realm of Games

Mark woke at 11:30 on the fourteenth day, but the late start did give me the chance to finish Small Gods, the Terry Pratchett book I had borrowed from him at the start of the trip. I quite enjoyed it, but there was something about it didn’t quite work for me, and I don’t think I’ll be exploring his extensive catalogue any further. I am very easily amused by the dry sarcasm in, for example, Nick Hornby’s early works, but my sense of humour isn’t quite sure how to react when it comes across jokes that are actually funny as they were in Small Gods. That completed, I started getting back into A Clash of Kings, which I had started on the plane. It’s the second book in George R. R. Martin’s heavily political fantasy series, and with a word count of about double that of The Fellowship of the Ring, the longest book I’ve ever read.

When we were all ready at around 12:00, we headed out to the Tokyo Games Show. We hadn’t specifically planned our trip to coincide with this annual event, but the fact that it happened to fall on the final day seemed too good a coincidence not to take advantage of. Our journey took us just outside of Tokyo itself, and was just over an hour long, meaning we arrived at lunch time. Everyone else wanted something simple, so my attempts to promote a Japanese omelette restaurant fell on deaf ears. We did at least end up at a Japanese fast food place rather than a McDonalds, though, and I had a shrimp burger with some rather pleasant spicy sauce.

It took us a bit longer than expected to find the entrance of the Games Show. There were about thirty exit and entry points, all of which were restricted to cosplayers, stallholders, journalists and so on. We walked up and down the massively long hallway twice, fighting against the crowds of people who were doing the same thing, until we finally had the sense to ask at the information desk only to find out that our entrance was in a completely different place. Finally locating it, we presented our tickets and were allowed in.
The Entrance
Predictably, the crowds outside didn’t begin to compare to the crowds inside, which were incredibly densely packed. By means of bellowing into each others’ ears, we agreed that we would meet outside if we were separated, and then began to look around. The first hall seemed to have most of the really big players in the industry, with Square Enix and Microsoft being the two that first caught my eye. The market for games is often different in Japan to the western world. The Japanese generally prefer storyline and dialogue-driven games, whereas Americans would sooner have shooting take precedence over the storyline, which is usually weak if it exists at all. There are a few Japanese games that have been popular enough to get professional translation. Square Enix are powerful enough to be able to take on American giants such as EA and Activision by translating and marketing their games for audiences in the US and Europe. For the most part, however, western fans of Japanese games generally have to make do with amateur translations, and don’t often get those.
Part of the main hall
Having decided to glance around at everything and then come back and look in more detail later on, we moved through the first hall and into the second, which was packed full of cosplayers. As I mentioned in the Harajuku entry, cosplaying (dressing up as anime, film or, in this case, game characters) is rather an art form in Japan. Mark and I spotted a number of Final Fantasy cosplayers (even those from VII, VIII and IX - it’s good to see that those games have endured for over ten years). There was an excellent Lightning, a pretty good Selphie and Irvine partnership and a passable Tidus. Unfortunately, Henry and Yingke don’t share our enthusiasm for Japanese games, so I haven’t ended up with any photos of the Final Fantasy cosplayers; I’ll have to make sure I take some of my own next time.

The second hall had a greater number of stalls, and most of them were from smaller companies. There were a number of stalls marketing mobile and handheld games, as well as those from companies that had maybe only released one or two games on a tighter budget than those allocated by Square Enix and Microsoft. We were in luck, however. As Yingke was admiring a driving simulator, I spotted a stall advertising a console port of When the Seagulls Cry, which I mentioned earlier. The series of games has gone down in my estimation significantly since the release of the eighth game, as the final solution to the overall mystery is frankly stupid, even if the way the individual locked room mysteries are constructed is still very clever, and I feel a bit annoyed that I wasted so much time thinking about it. Even so, I was still very enthusiastic about it back then, and so was very glad to see the sparkling pile of ‘gold’ as well as people dressed up as Beatrice and Battler, the two central characters.
The central characters of When the Seagulls Cry
The final hall was a tournament hall, with a large crowd watching two guys battle to the death in some fighting game that none of us knew. It was pretty intense, and we all stayed and watched the match that was going on, but in the end, we didn’t have all that much time, and wanted to look at the exhibits properly, so we headed back into the main halls to have a more thorough look around.

We paused briefly at an Evangelion stall for Henry to take pictures, although I hung back a bit. There are some shows that you know you’re just going to hate based on watching a single episode; Evangelion was certainly one of those. I’m rarely a fan of giant robot shows at the best of times, and Evangelion is a giant robot show served with a reasonable helping of philosophical pretentiousness. In any case, I kept my criticisms to myself, and moved on when the others were ready to. Back in the first hall, we stopped to check out the Microsoft stall properly and watch the demonstrations and trailers. There were some very impressive graphics and pyrotechnics, especially in Halo Reach. Clearly the Idolmaster 2 trailer is the one that stood out for Henry, as I’ve ended up with a massive collection of photos of it. Idolmaster is a pretty good example of Microsoft’s ability to throw their weight around. Their purchase of the franchise and exclusive release on Xbox 360 in Japan resulted in Xbox 360 live subscriptions increasing by something like ten times on the day it came out. A lot of their success doesn’t come from the abilities of their staff, but just that they have enough money to buy out any company that looks like it might be reasonably successful.
'Idolm@ster' - more than a little creepy.
The Square Enix and Eidos stalls were our next stop, the latter of which was responsible for my becoming interested in gaming with its release of the epic Tomb Raider II back in ‘95, and who has since been taken over by the former. The Tomb Raider series is still going, although wasn’t being advertised by Eidos, who were concentrating on the new Deus Ex game, which is coming out a good seven years after the previous one.

The queues were predictably ridiculous, and we weren’t tempted by the hour-long waits to spend ten minutes actually trying out the unreleased games. That said, I would have been tempted to spend an hour waiting for Final Fantasy XIII-2 had the dialogue not been in Japanese. Nor were we able to interest ourselves in Japanese games that we had never really heard of, and we gave the stall advertising Love++ a wide berth. Even being single as long as I have been, I still find the concept of a ‘dating simulator’ a little sad. Instead, we went off to explore the merchandise stalls at one end of the main hall. Prices were predictably ridiculous, and having already spent so much, I wasn’t even really tempted by the Tohsaka Rin T-shirt. The Final Fantasy soundtracks might have been of some interest, but CD prices in Japan are absolutely ridiculous. My upper limit for a CD is £13, and even then, I’m only prepared to go that high if it’s something I really want but is difficult to get hold of. The standard price for a CD in Japan is around ¥3000, which is well over £20. While I had counted myself lucky to pick up a battered copy of The Art of Life in Akihabara (a legendary single-track twenty-nine minute classical-inspired speed metal epic) which had been somewhat reduced, I certainly wasn’t paying over £20 for a soundtrack.
Not sure what these guys were advertising,
but they are pretty impressive.
As fun as boarding the same train back to Tokyo with a million other people as the game show closed and everyone stampeded for the exit would have been, we ended up deciding to leave twenty minutes earlier and catch a different train, thus avoiding having our limbs crushed. We therefore left at 4:40pm, boarded the wrong train, sat in the reserved section and were charged ¥500 by an irritable ticket inspector. The train was fortunately still going to Tokyo, so we did at least end up in the right place. Henry somehow had about ¥10000 ‘extra money’ left. We weren’t quite sure how this had happened, given that he had spent about as much as the rest of us put together, but in any case, we did make one final stop at Akihabara for him to sort out this terrible problem by purchasing the blu-rays of the Fate/Stay Night TV reproduction for exactly that amount. That was our last purchase, however, and we headed back to the hostel after that to finish our packing.

In some ways it’s a shame that I don’t really have the interest in games that I used to. I remember cycling home at suicidal speeds to pick up my copy of the original Fable, and bolting down breakfast so that I could spend half an hour playing Knights of the Old Republic before school when it had just been released. But I’ve had Final Fantasy XIII for almost a year now, and I’m not even half way through (and this is Final Fantasy - my favourite series of games of all time). I’ve got a bunch of other games sitting at home (Dragon Age, WET) which I’m half way through and bored with. I think it’s probably me that’s changed rather than the games, and while in some ways I miss getting the levels of excitement I used to get out of gaming, in some ways it’s a blessing. Conquering challenges in the real world is, after all, much more satisfying than taking down dragons and demons in the virtual world, and time is scarce enough that one invariably comes at the expense of the other.

Sunday, 13 February 2011

Day 13: Death and the Panda

I woke at my usual 8:30am the morning of our Asakusa trip, and took my time with my usual morning routine as I waited for the others to wake up. For a bit of variety, I picked up a couple of egg-flavoured varieties of bread along with the usual melon-bread.

When the others were up, we decided to make a bit of a start on packing before heading out. Everything in our suitcases had distributed itself around our room along with our purchases, and it seemed to make sense to start getting organised a bit beforehand, so we didn’t have quite such a last-minute rush. It was worth missing a bit of time exploring Japan for the amusement value of watching Henry trying to figure out how to pack a pillow he had bought in Nakano Broadway, which was almost as large as his suitcase by itself.

Asakusa was our first destination after we had left our hotel at 12:00. It was fortunately only one stop away from our hostel, so we were there comfortably by 12:30. Asakusa is one of the more traditional parts of Tokyo. Rickety wooden stands outside shops overhung with lanterns offered lucky cat statues, chopsticks and fans. The atmosphere was altogether much nicer than that of the Oriental Bazaar, and the things for sale were actually being bought by Japanese people rather than tourists, which seemed to make all the difference. I went ahead and purchased souvenirs for my family members, and my friends did the same.
Asakusa
Asakusa's shops were often more colourful than
those we had encountered elsewhere
We hadn’t spent all that long looking around the shops before starting to get hungry, so at around 1pm, we had the usual food debate, settling on a ramen restaurant. Yingke made the very unwise decision to have a cream soda with his ramen, which looked a bit like melon soda served with ice cream (and therefore absolutely disgusting). It certainly didn’t agree with him, and unfortunately, he had to head back to the hostel straight after lunch, feeling rather ill.
Cream soda. Not the most appetising
drink in the world.
Henry, Mark and I decided to continue our explorations, and headed in the direction of the Sensoji Temple, which is one of the older and more impressive temples in Tokyo. Stopping outside the imposing entrance, we saw a large number of stalls selling charms and bracelets. Fortunes and charms sold at temples and shrines are very popular in Japan – much more so than in England. The three of us paid ¥ for our fortunes, and unrolled them eagerly. Unfortunately, none of us did that well – Henry and I received ‘regular luck’, while Mark managed to get one of the uncommon ‘bad luck’ fortunes. The system is that you then tie the paper fortune in a knot to one of the stands around the temple, and this either makes the fortune come true if it was good, or purifies it and makes it disappear if it was bad. I’m not sure what it does if it was ‘regular’ – presumably nothing. In any case, I managed to tear my fortune while I was tying it in a knot, so I imagine I’m now doomed to be devoured by a giant serpent.
Sensoji Temple
After drawing our fortunes, we headed past the grotesque statues and into the massive temple itself. Like the other shrines we had seen, there was a large box with a grate over it in the centre of the temple where you could throw money and pray. Unlike the others, however, the Sensoji temple seemed like a very lucrative business – people were crowding around the box to throw their money through the grate in return for having some wish granted, and while most were throwing coins, several notes went in while we were watching (where the smallest note in Japanese currency is ¥1000 – around £8). In the spirit of things, we threw some of our change in and prayed to the Shinto gods as well. I wouldn’t usually consider giving money to organised religion, but as far as I can see, Shinto doesn’t actively seek to convert or influence people like Christianity does. Most Japanese people seem happy to visit and donate to shrines whether they believe in the Shinto gods or not, just for the sake of maintaining tradition. They would probably be much less willing to maintain that tradition if the existence of the Shinto gods was made into a point of fierce religious debate, as the Christian god has been. I imagine the money is just used to maintain and restore shrines and temples across Japan, which is a cause I’m more than happy to support.
Purify your fortune by tying it onto the railings.
Or tear it into pieces in the attempt...

Donations are thrown into the grid, in exchange
for prayers.
After wandering around the temple a bit more, we headed back to the station. Our next stop was Ueno park. We had had brief glimpses of Ueno before, as it was where we had changed trains on the way to our hotel on the very first day, but were glad of the opportunity to explore it properly. After wandering around inside the park, we headed for the zoo. Ueno Park Zoo was well known for having a giant panda, which are quite rare. I say ‘was known’ because their giant panda died of chronic heart failure in 2008. They are currently in negotiation with the Chinese for a new giant panda. The effort of taking all the panda signs, cutouts and information apparently wasn't worth it just to put them all up again a couple of years later, so the zoo’s non-existent centrepiece is, amusingly, still heavily publicised.
The elephants were a pretty good substitute
for giant pandas.

It's a stylish lion, although I always
prefer tigers.
We paid the ¥600 entrance fee, and wandered around. It wasn’t a huge zoo, but they packed quite a lot into a small area. I particularly liked the elephants, who we saw being cleaned. They responded very obediently to commands to lie in certain positions so that their cleaners could reach different parts of them, and equally obediently to commands to stand on their hind legs and carry buckets and mops around. Clearly, training your elephants pays off. We also saw a variety of monkeys, pelicans, lions and a gorilla. Sadly neither the penguins nor the tigers were visible (the latter of which I was quite keen to see), but we felt we had managed to get good value for money as we headed out of the zoo at around 5pm.

Yingke still wasn’t feeling terribly well when we got back to the hostel, and Henry was a bit tired, but Mark and I still had some energy. We therefore decided to head out and visit one of the places that we had skipped over earlier in the trip due to lack of time: the Shinjuku metropolitan government building. It was right on the other side of Tokyo, and the trip there took over 30 minutes and cost around ¥500 each way, but it was worth it: this was one of the last chances we would have to look around Tokyo.

Shinjuku is the commercial centre of Tokyo, and many of the people who work in the towering office buildings make vast sums of money doing so (it’s a shame that they presumably have very little time to actually enjoy it). The government building is more than twice as high as the observatory we went up to in the Tokyo tower, and the views were spectacular. There was even a restaurant up there, which didn’t seem vastly more expensive than the one we had been to in Kyoto, although the diners were all very well dressed. Sadly, unlike the cameras possessed by Yingke and Henry, mine wasn’t quite up to capturing high-resolution cityscapes through the reflective glass of the observatory, and as such, the photos I took are all too blurry and generally poor-quality to be worth posting. I think next time I would schedule a more extensive evening exploration of Shinjuku. The mass of concrete and glass that surrounds you as you walk down its streets is really quite stunning.

After eating fast food as an attempt to save money, Mark and I headed back to the hostel to meet up with Yingke and Henry again, and slept at around 10:30pm.

Tuesday, 1 February 2011

Day 12: In the Presence of Merchandise Part 2

Honestly, I’m not really sure how to write this day. The second day we spent in Akihabara was one of the most exciting days for us, and all of us found one or two things that we hadn’t expected to find but really wanted. On the other hand, written up, it will mostly just end up being, “we went here, and then we bought this, and then we went there, and then we bought that,” which I can’t imagine being very interesting to read (especially given that the Nakano Broadway entry is almost exactly like that anyway).

After some thought, I have therefore decided to dedicate this post to the pros and cons of the idea of moving to Japan. It’s something that was originally fun to think about when my thoughts were on auto-pilot but now, having visited Japan and done significantly more research, it seems like a much more serious prospect. I’ll interleave the paragraphs with pictures of what we bought in Akihabara on this day, so it doesn’t feel too much like a wall of text.
I never thought that I would find an
Akari figurine

The first and most obvious problem with moving to Japan is the language. Learning a language is always difficult, but the written forms of Japanese and Chinese are notoriously so, mainly because of Kanji. Outside of the 72 letters that make up their basic alphabets (Hiragana and Katakana), Kanji are Chinese characters that have been adopted into the Japanese language. There are about 2000 ‘core’ Kanji, which are required to be taught to all Japanese people in schools (yes, the Japanese do spend a fair portion of their school life learning to write their own language), and the vast majority of books and newspapers limit themselves to those. Reading academic papers and technical literature will usually require learning more than that, however. Most Kanji can be pronounced in multiple ways (some have as many as eight readings) and have multiple meanings (some as many as fifteen). There are ways in which the Kanji system makes learning vocabulary easier (you don’t have to remember ‘telephone’ is ‘denwa’, you can remember it as being a combination of the kanji for ‘electricity’ and the kanji for ‘speak’, for example), but for the most part, it only makes everything much harder.

The second major problem with the language is that finding time to learn it consistently at university has been really difficult. It isn’t like I couldn’t find time, but if I did, I would have to do it at the expense of other things – the chance of getting a first, for example, which still isn’t beyond the bounds of possibility. Learning language in fits and starts rather than doing some every day is a terrible way of doing it and, in the two years I’ve been learning it, I’ve probably only made about three months worth of the progress that I would have made had I been doing it full time. That can be pretty frustrating, and it feels like I’ve got a number of years to go before I could think about actually living in Japan.
The legendary Natsume figurine

Outside of the language, a further obstacle is that the Japanese just aren’t very accepting of foreigners. Unlike the UK, they’ve had a very tight immigration policy for a very long time. They’re beginning to relax a little, but fundamentally, there’s not much legislation around in Japan that says that you can’t discriminate against foreigners when making decisions about who to hire and who to promote. This makes it quite difficult for foreigners to work their way into a company at a position worthy of their skill set, and to work themselves up as they would in the UK.

The biggest issue I have with working in Japan, however, is the working hours. Most workers in Tokyo spend over twelve hours a day, six days a week at work. If you don’t put in those hours, you probably won’t last very long. I imagine it isn’t so bad if you are brought up with it, but it sounds absolutely dreadful to me. I have always been someone who enjoys working on a number of different things at once. At the moment, aside from my computer science degree, I’m learning Japanese, writing a blogging platform in PHP, writing this blog, and reading a book on social psychology on top of the clubs and societies that I take part in for fun. Even if you are getting paid more, working 12 hours a day means you don’t have any time to develop yourself in any other ways, and I would really hate that.
We didn't think that "Detective Opera
Milky Holmes" was likely to be a terribly
classy interpretation of Conan Doyle's classic...
Are there solutions to these problems? Well, the answer is yes, if you look hard enough, and if you work hard enough. Learning the language is mostly just a function of hard work. There’s one other thing that could really help, but I won’t go into detail on that for now. For the problems of being accepted and working reasonable hours, there is a route to go, but the number of openings is incredibly limited. Recently, with the slowly increasing tolerance of the Japanese for foreigners, there have been a few westerners who have set up small companies (often technology companies) over in Japan. Naturally, these companies are willing to hire foreigners, and generally they don’t expect the ridiculous hours that Japanese-owned businesses do. Prospects there may be more limited (if the companies aren’t making much, I can’t expect to be paid much), but it might be an excellent way to establish a foothold in Tokyo, from where I can examine my options more closely.

Why do I want to move to Japan despite these obviously major obstacles? Well, there’s an awful lot that I like over there, for a start. Most of my hobbies and interests come from Japan, and are much more socially acceptable over there. I think there’s also a fairly major element of wanting to do something interesting and have a long-term goal, though. I haven’t yet accepted my fate as being to leave university, go to work, work for someone else for fifty years, and then retire, because it sounds so dreadfully mundane. Going and working in Japan is something that feels more adventurous, and if I manage it, even if I hate it over there and end up coming back, I will have picked up some very useful language skills and will have done something quite special that very few other people do. And from there, I can move on to some other crazy objective.

Friday, 21 January 2011

Day 11: Souvenirs D'une Autre Île

On day 11, I was, as always, the first to wake up, rousing myself at around 9:30. While waiting for the others, I headed downstairs to do washing. The others woke up shortly afterwards, but even so, the need to do washing resulted in a very late start indeed. After a brief breakfast of melon bread, we set off at around 11:45, to arrive at Shimbashi at 12:00.

It wasn’t too hard to buy tickets to the train that would carry us across the famous ‘Rainbow Bridge’, which was not, in fact, terribly impressive during the day. It was certainly large, but not much larger than suspension bridges back in England. The train travelled underneath the bridge, in a cage-like structure, and we had some good views of the island. When we arrived at Daiba station, it was about 12:30, and we were hungry, so we headed off to find somewhere to eat lunch.
The Rainbow Bridge during the day

The usual problem arose as we searched around Decks and Aquacity (the two shopping centres near Daiba station) for somewhere to eat. For every one of us who wanted to eat at any given restaurant, one of us was prepared to eat there, and the other two wanted to find somewhere else. Fundamentally, though, the problem that Yingke and I wanted to eat traditional Japanese food and Mark and Henry wanted to eat at McDonalds was not to be resolved. After around twenty minutes of hunting, we decided to divide up into two groups: Yingke and I went one way, Mark and Henry the other.

Yingke and I ended up at a Japanese restaurant with a terrace looking out over the harbour. The prices were around ¥1000, but most definitely worth it. My dish of chicken in rice covered with omlette and chopped tomato was really delicious. After eating, we met up with Mark and Henry where we had agreed and headed across the road to have a look at the TV Tower.
The rather impressive TV Tower

The main attraction of the TV Tower was that, unlike everything else in Tokyo, admission was free. We rode the bubble-like escalators up and spent half an hour or so looking around the exhibits we were allowed to without paying. With the exception of Eden of the East, I knew hardly any of the television shows being advertised. It was interesting all the same, however, and we did get to see some live television being filmed.
'Eden of the East' was one of the few shows being
advertised at the TV Tower that we all knew

Two short walks and a short train ride later, we arrived at the science museum, which was our next stop. The others were shocked that I hadn’t heard of Doraemon, a time-travelling robotic cat who was represented on a large poster outside the museum, and wasted no time in educating me. Once inside, we discovered that there was a special exhibit on gadgets which was in some way connected to the mechanical feline. Whilst it would have been fun to see, the tickets that included the special exhibit were much more expensive, and we were concerned that we wouldn’t have all that much time to look around the main part of the museum, so we opted for the regular tickets.

Once inside the museum proper, we had great fun looking around the exhibits which ranged from medicine to space travel. My favourite was an interactive simulation of using machinery to operate on a patient. I have about the co-ordination as a drunken hippopotamus, so I predictably messed up and killed my patient. Also of interest was an ‘intelligent’ computerised seal, which would respond to being stroked, and spoken to. Finally, I rather enjoyed the computerised ethical quizzes in the medical section, which would tell you what percentage of Japan agreed with your views. The Japanese were largely in agreement with my pro-stem-cell research stance; less so with my more radical strongly pro-abortion views.
The Science Museum

We stayed at the museum until it closed at 17:00, and then headed back to the station. It was pretty dark, which was fine for the final thing I wanted to do in Odaiba – a trip to Pallette Town, the shopping centre on the far side of the island from the Rainbow Bridge. “What’s this? James wanted to go out of his way to a shopping centre?” I hear you cry. But this is no ordinary shopping centre. It has a section called Venus Fort, which is styled as an 18th century European town.
Venus Fort, complete with rather convincing fake sky
The interior really was beautiful, even being what it was: a vessel for a huge number of chain clothes shops. Stepping in from the darkened wooden platforms and metal railings of Pallette Town, the world was transformed into one of tall stone columns, marble floors and (fake) cloudy blue skies. The shops themselves were of no interest; almost all of them were chain women’s clothing stores. Still, this meant that the shoppers were mostly young Japanese women, something which I certainly didn’t object to. We wandered through the winding streets, through the impressive Fountain Plaza, until we finally reached the front of a church, with huge oak doors that presumably opened onto solid stone behind. Taking this to be the end of Venus Fort, we headed back the way we came and, after a considerable amount of getting lost, we finally found the exit (which was fairly well-disguised) and headed back to the station.
The Fountain Plaza
The Church Plaza
It was past 18:00 by the time we had finished our explorations of Venus Fort. Whilst there was a hot-springs theme park we could have visited, we decided to give it a miss (hot-springs are popular in Japan, and would be great if it weren’t for the fact that being naked is practically compulsory). We decided to head back off Odaiba and in the direction of the Tokyo Tower, finding somewhere to eat on the way.

It was much easier to see how the Rainbow Bridge gained its name as we went back over it in the dark. I was lucky enough to have a window seat facing in the opposite direction from the way we were going, and could look back out over brightly-lit Odaiba. The huge Ferris wheel was particularly prominent, with constantly changing multi-coloured lights tracing patterns across its shape.

Arriving back at Shimbashi station, we were only a couple of stops away from Tokyo Tower. A few sites had recommended against going to Tokyo Tower, claiming that it was touristy, and that better views over the city could be had for free from other buildings. I was therefore slightly sceptical of it, and even had an alternative plan ready for if the others shared my scepticism, but as the Tokyo Tower is such a well-known landmark, we decided it would be worth visiting at least once.

A couple of train stops later, we arrived at the nearest station to Tokyo Tower. Here followed the usual face-off about which restaurant to go to, with the usual compromise of an udon restaurant eventually being reached. I didn’t much like the food there, but it was filling enough and, having finished it, we headed in the direction of the Tokyo Tower. I hadn’t actually been able to find directions to it, but for obvious reasons, it wasn't difficult to find.
A lack of directions to the Tokyo tower
did not pose a major problem...
The queue to get into the tower was pretty small, and it wasn’t long before we found ourselves in a rather futuristic elevator. Stepping out of the doors at the top of its ascent, we were greeted by the darkened main observatory, and walls of glass that allowed us to gaze out for miles over brightly-lit night-time Tokyo.

It really was incredibly beautiful, and the thick atmosphere created by the darkness of the observatory and the soft, tasteful music playing through loudspeakers was masterfully achieved. Moreover, almost all of the observers were Japanese; there was barely a foreigner in sight. Perhaps in summer, the observatory crowds out with American tourists every evening. Even so, I must say, I completely disagree with the general advice that the Tokyo Tower should be given a miss; I thought that it really was wonderful.

There wasn’t much to actually do up there besides looking at the scenery, but that certainly never seemed to get boring. Mark and I spent a fair amount of time discussing the sorts of deep philosophical questions that a mass of lights and life stretching out across the darkness will tend to inspire, while Yingke and Henry took some of the best photographs of our trip.

To get back down to the ground floor, we had to descend a flight of stairs to a second observatory, a floor below the first one. Whilst going down the stairs had just been a means to getting the elevator back down to the ground floor, the second observatory had enough distractions to keep us up there for another twenty minutes or so. A glass panel in the floor of the second observatory that you could stand on allowed you to look directly down the metal construction of the tower. After we had walked across it and observed that, unsurprisingly, it didn’t break, I realised that the music on this floor was much clearer, and sounded much more like a live performance than a recording. Heading around the corner, we found a small stage with a piano, vocalist and a small crowd of people.

I’m normally rather a snob when it comes to music. If you give me an album to listen to that isn’t by an obscure European band and doesn’t incorporate extended instrumental sections, fifteen-minute tracks and influences from at least seven genres, I’ll tell you that it is simplistic and dull. Even so, I’ll refrain from over-analysing this particular live performance, because I had no concept of doing so at the time. The music was fairly sweet, melodic and poppy, but it fitted my mood, and I greatly enjoyed watching it without thinking about 13/16 time signatures or artificial harmonics or blast beats. I watched for as many songs as I felt I could without inconveniencing the others, and eventually allowed myself to be led away and back down the elevator.

The way back to the station was as painless as the trip to the Tokyo tower, and we soon found ourselves on the Hibiya Line, travelling back to Minowa. This was not an enjoyable trip. Office workers in Tokyo are mostly expected to work twelve-hour days (perhaps even longer if you’re in a position of any responsibility), so at 8:30pm, we were right in the middle of the rush-hour. And for those who know what it feels like to be on the London Underground in the rush-hour, it doesn’t begin to compare with Tokyo. Being crushed so closely to the people next to you that you can’t move an inch, and having your feet stampeded over whenever the train stops and people try to create a path to the exits is not a terribly pleasant experience. We were all very glad when the doors opened at Minowa station, and we all successfully managed to force our way through the crowds to the exits. We were, as usual, exhausted by the time we reached our rooms, and after washing, collapsed into bed gratefully, ready for an early start again the following day.

Wednesday, 5 January 2011

Day 10: In the Presence of Merchandise Part 1

Due to exhaustion from the previous day’s climb, I woke up at 9:30, which was still an hour earlier than everyone else, but considerably later than my normal time. We headed off to Nakano Broadway almost immediately, stopping briefly at the supermarket to pick up bread for breakfast, which we ate on the twenty-minute train journey.

Nakano Broadway is similar to Akihabara, in that it is an otaku paradise, selling anime merchandise, electronics, CDs, DVDs and so on. It is, however, much less polished, much less touristy and significantly cheaper than Akihabara. Whilst Akihabara will have all of the latest and shiniest merchandise from the most recent and most popular shows, Nakano Broadway is full of dusty boxes and cases containing cut-price second-hand or defect figurines and manga volumes from series that aired five or six years ago.
Nakano Broadway
Nakano Broadway itself wasn’t too hard to find, but it was about ten minutes walk away from the station. It was certainly more tucked-away than Akihabara, on the second floor of the shopping arcade. It took us a while to find anything. Although a figurine shop was of some interest, many of the shops were packed with old miscellaneous junk.

Eventually we stumbled across fantastic doujin store. Unlike Akihabara, where doujins were almost all ¥600 or more, everything here was between ¥100 and ¥300. While Henry and Yingke didn’t have all that much interest in browsing for doujins featuring their favourite series, Mark and I eagerly began searching through the racks. This was a rather more time-consuming operation than it had been in Akihabara, however. The doujins were sorted by circle rather than by series, and none of us were familiar with many doujin circles. We therefore had to browse dozens of racks packed with books in the hope of finding one or two with series that we knew. An hour or so of searching yielded a reasonable number of successful finds, however, and having paid for our very reasonably priced books, we headed back out into the Broadway.
This wall just seemed to be there for anyone to draw on it.
It's worth viewing it in full size - bits of it are quite
impressive.
When we had finished looking around that floor, it was almost lunch time. We initially looked for a curry place that I had had recommended, but were unable to find it, and eventually settled on the cheap and easy option of udon. Mine was fairly filling, but the shop next door to the Udon counter was selling the most amazing ice-creams I had ever seen. The ice cream part was much taller than the cone itself, and came in swirls of whichever flavour combination you asked for. I avoided the experimental ‘green’ option for once, and went for chocolate and vanilla, which tasted wonderful. Sadly, I don't have a photograph of it, but it baffles me why ice-creams that awesome aren't sold here. Perhaps there's a business opportunity there.

After lunch, we headed back upstairs, this time looking to explore the highest floor of Nakano Broadway. This time, results came much more quickly. Within minutes of reaching the top floor, I had located a Tokiha Mai figurine at just under ¥2000, and a little more searching in a nearby shop yielded a Senjougahara figurine for under ¥1000. While I agonised over the decision of whether to buy one or both of the figurines, Yingke made the decision to go back downstairs (accompanied by Henry) and purchase some Touhou nendoroids he had seen.
A nendoroid is a type of small figurine with a disproportionately
large head.  I don't think they're very appealing, but
some people find them adorable.
I eventually decided on buying both figurines, which was really inevitable, but I wanted to at least pretend to myself that I was thinking about saving money. Mark and I waited around the figurine shop for a bit to see whether Yingke and Henry would come back up to us, then decided to head down to see them.

This proved a rather more difficult operation than we had anticipated. Whilst we knew the route back to the stairs, it was impossible to actually follow it without being distracted by the multitude of shops selling anime merchandise. We ended up going into five or six, and spending five to ten minutes in each. By the time we did finally reach the first figurine shop where we knew Yingke and Henry had gone, they had predictably left.
Are there any circumstances in which you would pay more
than £200 for a playing card? I thought not...

What followed was about twenty minutes of searching for each other. There were multiple sets of steps connecting the two levels of Nakano Broadway, and could probably have kept going around in circles forever had we not had the bright idea of one person staying in the same place and the other searching. By this method, Yingke and Henry eventually ran into Mark, who was standing still at the bottom of a flight of stairs while I searched the upper floor, and we were thus reunited.

We had been planning to go to Washinomiya Shrine next, but forces outside our control (rain, the length of the trip, a desire to buy more cut-price anime merchandise) prevented us from doing so. We decided to stay in Nakano Broadway, and doing so turned out to be a good plan. We went back around the top floor, this time making a more thorough search, and it didn’t take us long to find a CD and DVD store.

It was almost exclusively selling anime CDs and DVDs, which didn’t stop me subtly hunting for an Olivia CD. What I found, however, was just as good. In a corner of the store near the bottom of the rack were two Maria-sama ga Miteru drama CDs. I was tempted by both, but one was standalone, while the other was the third in a sequence. Even though I wouldn’t have been able to understand it anyway, I wouldn’t have wanted the third part in a sequence without having the first or second, so I ended up just buying the standalone CD. Yingke similarly located three Aria drama CDs. We were feeling pretty good about having resisted temptations and only spent around ¥4000 between us in that particular shop, when Henry broke off from our group just as we were leaving and headed back into the shop, mentioning as he did so that he was “just going to pick up the Shana box set”. The Shana box set was ¥12000.

Leaving the store, we headed on in the direction of a nearby Mandrake, a shop selling manga. The range was fairly impressive but, well aware of the amount we had bought by this point, we only bought a couple of volumes each.
The figurines purchased at Nakano Broadway. The nendoroids
belong to Henry and Yingke, while the taller ones at the
back are mine.
Finally, staggering under the weight of our purchases, we headed back to our hostel. It was the rush hour, and the train was packed to bursting, but we somehow made it. After an hour or so of playing around with our purchases and taking photographs, we headed back out again. Henry was in favour of the Chinese restaurant again, but I made an eventually successful push for a curry udon restaurant in Ueno.

Unfortunately, another disagreement ensued when it emerged that every other member of our party objected to either curry, udon or both. Defeated, I agreed to the grill restaurant nearby as a better alternative than Chinese food for the second night in a row. Amusingly, I ended up being the most satisfied with the food we were served. The steak with egg and onion sauce was absolutely delicious – indeed, I would go as far as to say that it was the nicest ‘British meal’ I’ve ever eaten. English chefs should be ashamed if the Japanese are capable of outdoing them so easily.
Steak, egg and onion sauce. Delicious.
Yingke and Henry weren’t filled by the meal, however, so they went into the Chinese place for a second course on our way back. Mark and I returned to our rooms, meanwhile, and started a second long discussion of When the Seagulls Cry, to the amused exasperation of Yingke and Henry when they returned an hour later to find us still coming up with and dismissing theories.  

Friday, 31 December 2010

Day 9: At Splendid Heights

This entry is pretty short, because there's only so much one can say about climbing a mountain beyond admiring how nice the scenery was. As with the Osaka Aquarium entry, I'll put in a few more photos than usual to pad it out a bit.

I woke unaided at my usual time of 8am on the morning we were to spend up on Mount Takao, and waited around for my friends, who eventually woke at 10am. After a brief schedule re-arrangement to allow us to spend another day in Akihabara later on in the week, we headed off to Ginza on the Hibiya line.

Once there, we found the Sony building fairly easily, and wandered around inside. There was a wealth of high-tech gadgets, including a number of stereoscopic 3D displays, a camera that compensated for being shaken and a head tracking system. Prices went up to around ¥400,000, although nothing topped Osaka’s inkstone. There was more interactivity than we had expected, and most of the electronics could be tried out.
At ten million yen per square metre of floorspace in Ginza,
it pays not to cut costs on making your shop front
as impressive as possible.
You could buy this television for 399,000 and its speaker
set for 99,000. Or you could get an inkstone for the same price.
We were in there for around an hour and a half, although some of that was spent looking for each other, after we had separated to explore in pairs and then alone. We would have liked to spend more time in Ginza, but it was around 12:00 by the time we left the Sony building, and I was worried about not leaving enough time for Mount Takao, so we headed back to the station, and set off on the long train journey to Takao.

After about an hour and twenty minutes of sitting on and changing trains, we arrived at the base of Mount Takao. There was an option to take a cable car up to the half way point, and after some deliberation, and some persuasion from the team of those eager to climb the mountain unaided (Mark and I) we headed up the steep slope.
A statue on the rather scenic walk up Mount Takao.
The sights from a high place are best experienced after the climb up there, or so I have always believed. Indeed, after a few rest stops and much panting, we arrived at the visitors’ centre half way up Mount Takao, and were rewarded a fantastic view over Tokyo, which was all the more satisfying for having worked to earn it. We stayed there for ten minutes and caught our breath, and then headed on upwards.
The view from the rest area.
If I were an evil spirit, I'm sure I'd be warded off
pretty effectively.
The rest of the climb was more relaxed, and passed through a couple of Japanese religious structures reminiscent of those on the way up to the Inari shrine. The view from the top of Mount Takao itself was more scenic than that from the visitors’ centre, looking out over mountains and forests rather than over Tokyo. After spending a short time at the rest area at the top, we headed back downwards.

A long discussion about Final Fantasy with Mark made the journey downhill go by quickly, and we didn’t have to stop for rest breaks. Darkness had fallen by the time we reached the visitors’ centre, and Tokyo was spread out beneath us as a great carpet of lights. We stopped to admire it briefly before heading on down the steep paths to the bottom.
The view from the top of Mount Takao.

The path back down in the dark.
The journey back felt much more relaxed than the journey there. The train from Takao to Tokyo was fairly empty, so we could easily get seats together, but none of us spoke very much, all content just to relax in our exhausted states. I took advantage of the fact that the journey was almost exactly as long as Blind Guardian’s excellent At the Edge of Time album, and listened to it from start to finish as the starlit countryside rushed past us.

It was nearing 21:00 by the time we arrived back at Minowa station, and rather than make another journey out to find somewhere to eat, we gave in to Henry’s request to eat at the Chinese restaurant near our hostel. It wasn’t as refined as the food at the restaurant on Pontocho nor did it have the authentic feel of the udon restaurant on the way to the Inari shrine, but it was filling and tasted good, so we were more than happy. Somewhere near the beginning of the meal, Mark and I engaged in a discussion of When the Seagulls Cry, an incredibly tough murder mystery visual novel (and, as far as I’m concerned, the best murder mystery ever written – not that I’ve read very many). It improves upon the murder mystery genre with a number of systems that, as far as I know, are unique to it. The most prominent of these is ‘red text’: whenever a sentence spoken by a character is highlighted in red, that statement is definitely true (for example, ‘Jessica was outside the mansion at the time of the murder’), which will often be used in incredibly devious ways. Our discussion lasted almost three hours, and we came up one or two plausible theories and a great many implausible ones. This lasted us all the way through supper, back to the hostel and by 0:00, having just realised that one of the crucial pieces of information we had been basing most of our theories on probably wasn’t true after all, we gave up and settled down to sleep.

Monday, 20 December 2010

Day 8: Inside the City of Cloth

‘Inside the City of Cloth’ is probably the best title I came up with, as a modification of the final track of Katatonia’s ‘Viva Emptiness’ album. That said, this is the only section that was actually difficult to write, and has had to go through three drafts. I’m still not really satisfied with it, but I can’t imagine it’ll get much better with a fourth draft.

I met my expectation of being the first to wake up on the morning of Harajuku. I was pretty excited at the plan I had for today, thinking that the combination of Harajuku and Shibuya might even surpass Akihabara. I awoke at 7:00, a full two and a half hours before anyone else got out of bed. I filled the time by bringing my notes up to date, doing hygiene-related things and reading. Once everyone else was fully awake and we had eaten breakfast, we headed off at around 10:30.

Harajuku is the centre of fashion in Tokyo, and especially popular on Sundays. Japan-guide and Wikitravel, the two sites that I had made the most use of in my planning, had described it as being a popular location for cosplaying and for dressing in extreme fashions, such as gothic lolita. As everyone who knows me reasonably well will be confused at this point by why I was interested in fashions, I should probably clarify. As far as I am concerned, Japanese women are far more attractive than English women; I was a lot less excited at the prospect of looking at the clothes than I was at looking at the girls wearing them.
The Takeshita-dori, Harajuku 
Arriving at Harajuku station, we orientated ourselves and then set off. We headed first down the Takeshita-dori, which was easy enough to find, and incredibly crowded. Despite being one of the most popular streets for clothes shops, it wasn't terribly wide, and fairly difficult to move (the fact that there didn't seem to be any particular system of keeping on one side didn't help), and we therefore moved down it at a fairly slow pace. I didn’t mind at all, however – it gave me a good chance to look around at both the attractive female population of Harajuku and into the windows of the huge numbers of clothing stores. We eventually emerged onto the Omotesando, the largest street in Harajuku.
Smorking is naturally forbidden.
Surprisingly, so is the usually legal shoplifting.
It was at least pleasantly cool walking down the Omotesando, as trees grew over the paths on either side, providing some measure of shade. We decided to give KiddyLand, the huge toy store across the road, a miss, and instead headed for the Oriental Bazaar, a shop that, according to my research, sold traditional Japanese things that made good souvenirs.

The Oriental Bazaar sadly turned out to be the most awful shop we entered on our trip. It had a polished look with a high ceiling and stone floor that was clearly intended to appeal to westerners. I wouldn't have been at all surprised if it had been set up by an American. Indeed, other than the shop assistants, the only people in there were western tourists, all buying their 'traditional Japanese' souvenirs (miniature swords and dolls and so on) that had presumably been manufactured in some third-world country. Perhaps I'm being overly cynical, and perhaps I shouldn't judge the place too harshly (my friends all bought things from there), but (as melodramatic as it sounds) it was almost as if this shop was personally insulting me. I had spent a very long time meticulously planning a trip that was unique to us and didn't follow any preset routes, and I had felt so far that I had experienced Japan in really quite a special way. Entering the Oriental Bazaar, it seemed like someone somewhere had decided every tourist wants pretty much the same things out of their trip to Japan, and wouldn't it be a bright idea to package those things up and sell them in a shop built to resemble a western department store. Considering the amount of time I've spent on this paragraph trying to explain properly why that shop left me feeling so dead, it still feels rather incoherent, but suffice to say, I didn't want anything, and I was very glad to leave.
The Oriental Bazaar. Ugh.
Coming out of the Oriental Bazaar, we headed back up in the direction of the station. By the time we arrived, I was wondering if I had made a mistake in my research. Other than gawping at pretty young women, one of the main reasons to come to Harajuku had been to see cosplayers – people who dress themselves up as musicians and characters from film and anime. Whilst ‘dressing up’ in the UK is often thought of as a children’s activity, in Japan it is often considered more of an art form, with people putting incredible amounts of care into extravagant clothes and make-up. The sites I had researched had implied that while extreme fashions could be seen everywhere in Harajuku, the cosplayers tended to gather around a certain bridge. Unfortunately, the station bridge (where I had thought they would be) yielded no results, but we crossed it in any case, and headed into Yoyogi Park, the large green space across the railway from Harajuku.

The first thing that met our eyes upon entering the park was a sign telling us which way the nearest temple was. We considered looking at the temple, but I was rather determined to find the cosplayers that I had been looking forward to, and so we instead set off in the other direction.

Thinking I must have been mistaken about the station bridge, I was convinced that there must be a bridge somewhere where the cosplayers were gathering. There were a few small ones over the road, but none of them were covered in cosplayers, and probably unlikely to be the ones we were looking for. We found a Sri-Lanka festival, at which we stayed for no longer than five minutes, and a rather impressive fountain that shot jets of water high into the air. By around 13:00, our stomachs were growling from walking around all morning in the heat, and we decided to abandon the search. Irritated with myself for not doing the research for Harajuku properly, I got out my directions for my recommended place for lunch, which was an okonomiyaki restaurant. For once, everyone agreed to go with my experimental option rather than seeking a safer alternative, and we headed back in the direction of the Omotesando.
The Yoyogi Park fountain

Passing back out of Yoyogi Park and over the station bridge, we finally saw them: two girls dressed in brightly coloured yukata with face masks. Apparently, cosplayers aren’t morning people: the station bridge had been the right one, but we had just been too early for anyone to be there.

In some ways, I suppose two girls was a bit of a weak offering compared to the mass of cosplayers I had been expecting. Even so, I was very glad that we had found what we were looking for, and that a fault in my planning hadn’t caused us to miss anything exciting – indeed, glad enough that I took out my camera for the first time on the trip and got some photos of them, one of which is displayed below. I stood around watching them for a while, but was quickly forced to give in to the requests to get going, and relinquished my gaze on the brightly coloured couple for the much less important business of finding somewhere to eat lunch.
The station bridge cosplayers
In Sakuratei, everyone cooked the food themselves on hot plates in front of them. Although it was an okonomiyaki restaurant, they also had a few other options, such as yaki-soba. Yingke, Mark and I went for the former, whilst Henry ordered the latter. We waited for a short time, and were then brought a bowl of ingredients. There was only room on the table for two people to cook at once, so Mark and I went first, and attempted to follow the instructions which would allow us to turn our assortments of interesting meats and vegetables into edible food.
Partially cooked okonomiyaki
(mine is the one on the left, pre-flipping)
My portion of okonomiyaki included vegetables, bacon, seafood, egg and sauce, and in theory, was meant to end up as a sort of pancake. Whilst Mark commissioned Henry (who had experience working in a restaurant) to flip his pancake at the required times, my determination to cook my own got the better of me, and I ended up with something resembling an explosion. Even when broken, it was delicious, however. After having eaten, Mark and I settled down to wait for Yingke and Henry. I would like to think that Yinke was only completely successful at producing a perfectly round okonamiyaki because he had learned from my mistakes, but perhaps he was just not quite so badly co-ordinated. It took us almost two hours to eat and, when we had finished, we headed back towards the station.

We found the ¥100 shop on our way back to the station, and looked in briefly, but didn’t stay long. The main purpose of £1 shops (and therefore the main appeal of ¥100 shops) is for people to impulse buy things they don’t actually have any use for because they are cheap. Whilst the store owners had managed to grasp the concept of filling a shop with things nobody in their right mind would want to buy, the idea of pricing everything at ¥100 seemed to have been beyond them, and indeed, we didn’t manage to find anything at all that was exactly ¥100. Slightly confused, we exited the shop, and headed back towards the station to catch our train to Shibuya. We had another glance at the station bridge on the way, but there wasn’t much else. The girls who had been there earlier had moved down the street slightly, and there was a cluster of people dressed in gothic clothing on the far side of the bridge, but no more cosplayers. Had I been alone, I would have hung around the station bridge longer in the hope of seeing something else interesting, but I felt that I had already asserted my own desires enough for one day, so I didn’t make the suggestion. We moved back into the station and used our Pasmo cards again to get us onto a train to Shibuya.

At around 16:30, we arrived in Shibuya. Other than generally looking around, our main objective was to go to a Mahjong parlour. I had picked out Shibuton as one that was fairly beginner-friendly (assuming that we were beginners by Japanese standards), and we were able to find amongst the high-rise buildings that made up Shibuya without too many problems. The parlour itself was rather smoky, but otherwise had a nice atmosphere. We were brought drinks shortly after sitting down while an assistant tried to explain non-verbally how our automatic table worked. We eventually got the hang of things, however, and once he saw that we all knew how to play, he left us to our game. It was the best sort of game we could have had - long and dramatic. There were a good number of big hands and two one-shot tsumos. Mark, Henry and I were all in the lead at some point. Yingke who had had rather a run of bad luck, pulled himself back up into second place with a dealer limit-and-a-half (worth 18,000 points) in South 4. Fortunately, I was able to win a quick, cheap hand and end the game with myself in first place before he could combo more than once and rack up any more points. (I apologise for the fact that those last few sentences will have been almost complete gibberish to anyone who doesn't play mahjong.)
A starting hand heading for toitoi, yaku-hai, dora 4
for a limit and a half? Not bad...
Even with the help of the automatic tables, which dealt and shuffled for us, our game took almost three hours. We were charged ¥6000, which seemed a bit steep, but we didn't really complain. When we got back outside, it was around 20:30, and night had fallen. Shibuya is one of Tokyo's main nightlife districts, and looked much more dramatic after dark than it had during the day. The streets were illuminated by dozens of neon lights and crowded with young men and women. Rather than the nightclubs, however, our destination was Sweets Paradise, an all-you-can-eat restaurant which has a few savoury dishes, but mostly specialises in cakes. It didn't look like a very easy route on the map, but we got there quickly enough, and paid our ¥1500 entrance fee.
The crossing outside the Shibuya 109 building
Sweets Paradise was decorated in a red and pink colour scheme, and for a moment, we were worried that it might be a repeat of our evening meal in Osaka. We found out quickly that the groups of people there were a mix of genders, however, and, feeling more comfortable, we headed over to pick up plates. I managed two large plates of noodle and rice dishes, before moving on to cake, of which I managed slightly more than two more plates. There was a fantastic variety, including some delicious chocolate and coffee cakes and one bright green one that tasted absolutely disgusting. After two plates of cake, the usual all-you-can-eat conflict set in, where I felt like I really should keep eating to get my money's worth as far as possible, but couldn't quite bring myself to transfer any more food from my fork to my mouth.
Part of the incredible selection of cakes
at Sweets Paradise
When Sweets Paradise closed at 22:00, we headed back out into Shibuya. It was even livelier than before, and I tried my best to take in all of the sights and sounds of the packed district before we reached the station again and embarked on the long train ride back to Minowa. My friends and I were separated on the train on the way back, as we were all tired enough to accept the free seats distributed around the train, even if doing so meant depriving ourselves of each others’ conversation. This did, however, give me the chance to use my MP3 player for the first time on the trip. I had been rather neglecting music so far (indeed, I think the first few days in Japan were the longest I have gone without listening to music in several years, which speaks for itself). Even so, rather than going for my usual power, progressive or black metal, I listened to some Olivia, the only Japanese artist I have any music by, which matched the mood rather well.