Tokyo is a megacity of steel and glass, a massive shining metropolis
with a huge port, smoggy skies (if it hasn't been raining) and several
intensely busy "centers" marked by gatherings of tall reflective
skyscrapers. Each of these hives of activity has its own character.
Shinjuku may be the busiest of all with a rail station the size of a
small town. Here the worlds above and below ground merge. The clean
white-walled subway system, blazes with light, hums to the sound of
rapid trains arriving and departing every few seconds, and swarms with
busy commuters who spill through wide, doorless entryways into giant
shops ringing with the welcoming calls of happy store attendants. Making
our way into the outdoors, we found a blazing world of neon signs, often
in long vertical strips down the sides of tall buildings, forty-foot
outdoor TV screens, strong primary colors indicating the discount
electronics stores, and a frenzy of pedestrians and traffic.
Although we looked different we felt invisible. No-one took a second
glance. Even when we tried to walk through the wrong turnstiles on the
subway, and set off buzzing alarms, nobody paid us any attention.
Everyone is polite and respectful here. Occasionally, while staring
intently at a chaos of Japanese symbols on a map of the city's rail
system, wondering where we were, someone would ask (in English) if we
needed any help. We might have been lost for hours without them. Though
a lot of English -- often amusingly mangled -- is seen on business
signs, magazine titles, and advertisements, often this only fools you. A
typical advertisement outside a restaurant might have the words "Menu --
Lunch Special" at the top, that draws you in. Looking below these words
however, you will find nothing but an incomprehensible array of Chinese
Kanji characters some of which the Japanese take 20-plus years to
understand.
At the climbing gym, we met a tight-knit community of climbers, many of
whom had traveled hours to get there. It is normal in Tokyo to spend up
to two hours negotiating trains and subways to get from one part of the
city, or suburb, to another, either for work, or for pleasure. Lisa
learned to sign her name in Japanese "katakana" characters (a phonetic
alphabet used for foreign names and words) on signing cards, chalkbags,
T-shirts, even pant-legs and climbing shoes. Since everyone seemed to
know about Lisa's Hello Kitty tattoo, and with Japan being the
birthplace of Hello Kitty, Lisa received lots of cute Hello Kitty gifts.
And it wasn't long before Lisa was asked to reciprocate by drawing Hello
Kitty faces for other people, next to her signature!
During a break between rounds at the comp, Lisa did a climbing
demonstration that kept some of the children entertained for about half
an hour as they tried to repeat the problems she had set the day before,
for adults! The children were incredibly cute, and the tiny boys were
amazingly dynamic, but on the second problem they still couldn't make
the big spans. The children were very appreciative and one of them drew
Lisa a picture to present her as a gift. Even the adults effused thanks
to Lisa for climbing with them. Lisa, meanwhile, who had little
opportunity to warm up, and was still feeling a bleary from jet-lag,
shook her way to the top and looked more likely to fall than several of
the local competitors!
The following week, we managed to escape from the city. With Mr. Koji
Suzuki and his wife Rei, we traveled to Ogawayama, a major, historic,
climbing area about 4 hours' drive from Tokyo. It is a heavily forested
and mountainous region, with towers of granite and flanks of cliffs
rising in ridges around a valley. After a freezing cold night -- the
altitude is high -- we met a group of climbers who had come out to join
us for a day of bouldering among the yellow-leafed aspens, which were
just beginning to turn to their fall foliage. There are many
interesting, classic problems where edges, shallow pockets and slopers
combine on the same section of rock. We only saw a tiny sample of the
bouldering here and would love to return for more. After climbing, we
stayed the night at the lodge there, as a guest of Mr. Nao Naito, of the
Pump climbing gym, enjoyed a good soak in the huge hot baths -- one for
women, one for men -- and stayed in a traditional tatami-mat room with
futons and low table.
The next day, we headed out to another bouldering area called Mitzugake
that, as yet has no guide and few visitors, even though the rock quality
is just as good as at Ogawayama, and the setting equally spectacular.
There is potential here for development of a lot more bouldering, though
the boulders tend to lie on slopes rather than on flat ground. Another
wonderfully peaceful area.
After a day of sightseeing and shopping, back in Tokyo, we took a train
out to the suburb of Hamura to meet Mr. Nobusuke "Buzz" Tokunaga, and
his wife Harumi, who had invited us to stay with them and their two
children at their house, which had been imported from Oregon. They
picked us up in a giant bright-red Suburban. The house was a meeting
place for climbers from around the area. There was a climbing wall in
the garage that at times, they told us, would provide workouts for up to
20 people. Such a set-up is a rarity in the Tokyo area, where a garage
is a luxury. There is so little space due to the density of the
population, that people wishing to buy a car must first get a
police-stamped certificate verifying they have a place to park it.
Buzz's local bouldering area was Mitake -- also Tokyo's nearest area --
about half an hour away, by car, and this was our last taste of rock
before we had to catch our flight out of Japan. The rock was excellent,
there was a great crowd of friends, and again, we climbed some superb
problems in a pleasant setting beside a wide, fast-flowing river.
Looking back on our time in Japan, the most amazing, and memorable
aspect of the visit was the incredible politeness, hospitality and
friendliness of the local climbers -- thanks to all!