Soccer in the Park – 3 October
The last day of the Coerver Tour was one of mixed feelings. Happy to be starting the next stage of our journey but sad to be leaving all the families and the soccer behind. It had been a bit of a mixed tour for Grant, but all in all, it was a great experience and well worthwhile I think. It was thankfully a later start today, as we were checking out around 10.30am and had to be downstairs by 11.00am for the pickup. We went down for breakfast and enjoyed some animated and wild stories from some of the adults who took advantage of the child-free night that the wonderful Coerver coaches had offered us the night before. Some of the ‘boys’ went into Roppongi a bit of a wild area of Tokyo (stories of having to deal with Yakuza – Japanese gangsters etc) and some went into Shinjuku I think. I went for a very tame walk to soak up the atmosphere of Shinjuku on a Saturday night with a couple of the father’s on the trip and as always, got a bit lost, but eventually found our way back to the Hotel.
Asakusa is a tourist Mecca for overseas and Japanese tourists as well.
The main street leading up to this huge Temple is lined with hundreds of tiny shops selling a huge variety of soveniers, such as keyrings, chopsticks, tshirts, dolls, traditional sweets and hundreds more.
When Grant and I arrived the first thing we did was pick out a ‘lucky’ lottery prayer which you pay 100yen for and then shake a steel can with
a small whole in the top to mix up the sticks inside. The sticks have a number on them in Japanese and you find the small draw in what looks like a Japanese bedroom cupboard and take out the piece of paper with the matching number on it. Written on the paper is your ‘fortune’. Grant didn’t realize you need to take a stick and randomly opened one of the draws, and as he did four years ago when we were here, ended up with ‘big fortune’ prayer, the best there is. I on the other hand got ‘little fortune’, but was happy with this and kept the prayer. The Japanese have a simple way of dealing with the not-so-lucky prayers and there are what look like ‘clothes lines’ next to the boxes, where you tie the folded up prayer and attach it to the line to leave your bad fortune behind. It actually looks quite pretty but is a relief to those who chose the wron
g luck.
After we wandered round for a few hours it was time to meet back at the bus and for the tour to continue on to the airport and home, and for us to navigate with two heavy suitcases and two large sports bags, through the subways and train stations of Tokyo to our final destination, Kichijoji.
While w
e waited for the buses to arrive at the neighbourhood park (well, when I say park, I mean a gravel covered area about the size of a 3/4 size football pitch with some trees around the outside), Grant and a couple of the other boys who had arrived back early spotted 6 local Japanese boys playing baseball and saw a rubber soccerball on the ground near them. Having not played soccer for almost 24 hours, they were going through withdrawal symptoms ;-) so asked if I could ask the boys to play soccer with them. The boys were a little hesitant, but said ok. The game started and the sheer joy on all th
e kids faces, was a sight to see. With the tension and stress of the tournaments gone, the atmosphere was wonderful. A crowd of passers-by stopped to watch the fun, but as more of the boys/girls returned from shopping, the teams were getting a little uneven, so Grant and another boy turned turn-coat to help out the local boys. By the end of the match, the Japanese were overwhelmed at the number of kids playing (around 40!) and just as they started to withdraw a little, the bus arrived and we said goodbye them. As Grant and I said our hurried goodbyes to the families we had just spent 10 days ‘living in each other’s pockets’, the bus drove off to the airport and Grant and I wheeled our suitcases down the busy Asakusa street. I’m sure the boys who had once again picked up their baseball mitts and bat and who were enjoying the peace and quiet of their local park, were wondering what on earth had just happened.
After making our way through the metro and catching a local train to Kichijoji our next difficult/impossible task was to meet up with Mari, who had the key to our house. She said she’d meet us at the station, but Sunday night in Kichijoji rivals Shinjuku for sheer numbers of people! We called each other several times, but in the chaos and noise at the station, it was impossible to communicate. During one of the calls I was able to make out ‘MacDonalds’ and so Grant and I walked across the road to the only MacDonalds I could remember, in the busy ‘Sun Road’ outdoor shopping area. Even then, we couldn’t find each other, so I got into a phone booth and called her number from there. Finally being able to hear her, it turned out we were only about 8 meteres away from each other, but still couldn’t see eachother! Finally she was able to spot Grant’s blond hair and made the 15 minute walk past her house and then on to our ‘home’ for the next four weeks.
I’ve already written so much about this day, but have to write just a couple of more paragraphs. Arriving at our ‘home’ was like returning to my childhood. I felt like a 17 year old again, arriving home from school to my host mother and family. The house hasn’t change much at all since I lived here all those years ago, infact it has been unoccupied for the last 10? Years, so smelt very musty, but was unmistakably my home. Walking up the green staircase to ‘my bedroom’ brought another rush of memories which were overwhelming. The last time Spike, the kids and I we were in Tokyo, we hadn’t been able to see the house, and so it had been over 20 years I think since I was last here, though it only felt like a few days. How strange to be sleeping in the same bed that I slept in for 7 months all those years ago. The world is incomprehensible, but wonderful!
After a much needed rest, Mari accompanied us out to get a couple of groceries, though my wonderful host sister Keiko had already stocked the house with bread, fruit, milk, cereal, tea, coffee, beer, cookies etc. Afterwards the three of us went out to our favourite restaurant for dinner (Yakiniku) where we have fond memories of dining with Mari and her family. We barbecued at our table, thin slices of pork, beef, prawns, liver, tongue and a few veggies and I ‘gambatte’ and tried the tongue which I piked out on the last time we were here 4 years ago. It was then off home and after saying our thankyou’s and goodnight’s to Mari, we both fell into bed and for the first time since arriving in Japan, enjoyed being able to go to sleep without having to set an alarm!
The last day of the Coerver Tour was one of mixed feelings. Happy to be starting the next stage of our journey but sad to be leaving all the families and the soccer behind. It had been a bit of a mixed tour for Grant, but all in all, it was a great experience and well worthwhile I think. It was thankfully a later start today, as we were checking out around 10.30am and had to be downstairs by 11.00am for the pickup. We went down for breakfast and enjoyed some animated and wild stories from some of the adults who took advantage of the child-free night that the wonderful Coerver coaches had offered us the night before. Some of the ‘boys’ went into Roppongi a bit of a wild area of Tokyo (stories of having to deal with Yakuza – Japanese gangsters etc) and some went into Shinjuku I think. I went for a very tame walk to soak up the atmosphere of Shinjuku on a Saturday night with a couple of the father’s on the trip and as always, got a bit lost, but eventually found our way back to the Hotel.
Asakusa is a tourist Mecca for overseas and Japanese tourists as well.
The main street leading up to this huge Temple is lined with hundreds of tiny shops selling a huge variety of soveniers, such as keyrings, chopsticks, tshirts, dolls, traditional sweets and hundreds more.When Grant and I arrived the first thing we did was pick out a ‘lucky’ lottery prayer which you pay 100yen for and then shake a steel can with
a small whole in the top to mix up the sticks inside. The sticks have a number on them in Japanese and you find the small draw in what looks like a Japanese bedroom cupboard and take out the piece of paper with the matching number on it. Written on the paper is your ‘fortune’. Grant didn’t realize you need to take a stick and randomly opened one of the draws, and as he did four years ago when we were here, ended up with ‘big fortune’ prayer, the best there is. I on the other hand got ‘little fortune’, but was happy with this and kept the prayer. The Japanese have a simple way of dealing with the not-so-lucky prayers and there are what look like ‘clothes lines’ next to the boxes, where you tie the folded up prayer and attach it to the line to leave your bad fortune behind. It actually looks quite pretty but is a relief to those who chose the wron
g luck.After we wandered round for a few hours it was time to meet back at the bus and for the tour to continue on to the airport and home, and for us to navigate with two heavy suitcases and two large sports bags, through the subways and train stations of Tokyo to our final destination, Kichijoji.
While w
e waited for the buses to arrive at the neighbourhood park (well, when I say park, I mean a gravel covered area about the size of a 3/4 size football pitch with some trees around the outside), Grant and a couple of the other boys who had arrived back early spotted 6 local Japanese boys playing baseball and saw a rubber soccerball on the ground near them. Having not played soccer for almost 24 hours, they were going through withdrawal symptoms ;-) so asked if I could ask the boys to play soccer with them. The boys were a little hesitant, but said ok. The game started and the sheer joy on all th
e kids faces, was a sight to see. With the tension and stress of the tournaments gone, the atmosphere was wonderful. A crowd of passers-by stopped to watch the fun, but as more of the boys/girls returned from shopping, the teams were getting a little uneven, so Grant and another boy turned turn-coat to help out the local boys. By the end of the match, the Japanese were overwhelmed at the number of kids playing (around 40!) and just as they started to withdraw a little, the bus arrived and we said goodbye them. As Grant and I said our hurried goodbyes to the families we had just spent 10 days ‘living in each other’s pockets’, the bus drove off to the airport and Grant and I wheeled our suitcases down the busy Asakusa street. I’m sure the boys who had once again picked up their baseball mitts and bat and who were enjoying the peace and quiet of their local park, were wondering what on earth had just happened.After making our way through the metro and catching a local train to Kichijoji our next difficult/impossible task was to meet up with Mari, who had the key to our house. She said she’d meet us at the station, but Sunday night in Kichijoji rivals Shinjuku for sheer numbers of people! We called each other several times, but in the chaos and noise at the station, it was impossible to communicate. During one of the calls I was able to make out ‘MacDonalds’ and so Grant and I walked across the road to the only MacDonalds I could remember, in the busy ‘Sun Road’ outdoor shopping area. Even then, we couldn’t find each other, so I got into a phone booth and called her number from there. Finally being able to hear her, it turned out we were only about 8 meteres away from each other, but still couldn’t see eachother! Finally she was able to spot Grant’s blond hair and made the 15 minute walk past her house and then on to our ‘home’ for the next four weeks.
I’ve already written so much about this day, but have to write just a couple of more paragraphs. Arriving at our ‘home’ was like returning to my childhood. I felt like a 17 year old again, arriving home from school to my host mother and family. The house hasn’t change much at all since I lived here all those years ago, infact it has been unoccupied for the last 10? Years, so smelt very musty, but was unmistakably my home. Walking up the green staircase to ‘my bedroom’ brought another rush of memories which were overwhelming. The last time Spike, the kids and I we were in Tokyo, we hadn’t been able to see the house, and so it had been over 20 years I think since I was last here, though it only felt like a few days. How strange to be sleeping in the same bed that I slept in for 7 months all those years ago. The world is incomprehensible, but wonderful!
After a much needed rest, Mari accompanied us out to get a couple of groceries, though my wonderful host sister Keiko had already stocked the house with bread, fruit, milk, cereal, tea, coffee, beer, cookies etc. Afterwards the three of us went out to our favourite restaurant for dinner (Yakiniku) where we have fond memories of dining with Mari and her family. We barbecued at our table, thin slices of pork, beef, prawns, liver, tongue and a few veggies and I ‘gambatte’ and tried the tongue which I piked out on the last time we were here 4 years ago. It was then off home and after saying our thankyou’s and goodnight’s to Mari, we both fell into bed and for the first time since arriving in Japan, enjoyed being able to go to sleep without having to set an alarm!
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