Now Drowning in Snow From Every Angle

Snow snow everywhere.....

I had a pretty pathetic couple of days.  I struck me as interesting that the last, and only other time I've been sick in the preceding 12 months, it was also at Tazawako.  It was disappointing.  Whereas previously, a temperature topping minus 20 would be manageable - if it was coupled with piles of large powdery snow flakes (which it was).  But now, suddenly, the thought of sitting on a chair lift held no appeal. Instead resting my head on my hands in between sips of hot chocolates, while peering out the window and being thrilled I wasn't out in the totally unattractive elements, was now plat du jour.  My head ached, my body ached, my throat burnt, and I was as shitty as all hell.  That fucking crap food - unidentifiable slop - too.  I just wanted some fresh food you bunch of cockheads!!!  So whatever, I was crook, I'm just not a very good patient really.  I would hate to look after me.

Little Onsen Hotel Tsurunoyu- heaving under the massive snowfall

Outside onset

I was relieved to know that we were having a little time out from the mountain.  The hectic schedule (of fun) that I'd been on for some time had been without reprieve (poor meeeeee).  So Chalks had booked a night at a nearby onsen guesthouse.  They came to pick us up by shuttle bus in the afternoon.  The driver drove us deeper into the snowy forest.  I have never seen more snow in my life.  It was completely mental.  How can there be so much???  The drive wasn't long, but it was slow.  We finally arrived, just as twilight was gathering, to a tiny place absolutely draped in layers of snow.  I'm surprised the roof hadn't collapsed from so much of the shit.  The whole collection of tiny wooden buildings sit over a hot water fast flowing river of mineral rich water.  People have been coming to bathe in the therapeutic waters for nearly 400 years.  It is called Tsurunoyu Onsen which means Crane's Hot Water.  The true story of the discovery of the incredibly healing powers of this water involves, you guessed it - a Japanese Crane.  In this case, a Japanese crane with a sore leg.  A local hunter saw a crane bathing its injured birdie limb in the waters coming up from the earth long ago.  From hence forth,  people have been visiting this place to heal their ailments and partake in the complex array of life-giving minerals these waters provide.  Fascinating shit huh?

More whole fish being cooked in our room

It was verging on the impossible to book.  Chalks managed to do it by phone - and I have no idea how. I'm impressed, but will never admit it (we are always in competition over our comprehension and abilities regarding our nihongo jozu - good Japanese).  Any admitting of another's language strength signifies immediate weakness.  I would not buckle, and there would be no compliments.  He has already learnt the hard way, and he still married me.....

My warming saviour

Getting in the vibe

This place was bullshit.  BULLSHIT. Forget the life affirming waters - how about our room???  Pretty screens, ace views (if piles of snow is your thing) an ash pit where dinner was cooked for us at night, scalding hot milky baths.  The food was all sourced from the area - mountain mushrooms, sashimi and whole cooked river fish, roots and mountain vegetables.  One thing I haven't addressed is just how fucking freezing it was.  I have never stayed in a colder place in my life.  In the parts of the hotel that weren't heated, the ice crystals came through the wood panels.  There was ice all over the inside of the windows, and the room (although heated with hot air blowing heaters) remained on the chilly side.  So cold was I, that I couldn't get to sleep, and ended up having a late night scalding hot bath in the onsen to warm myself to the core.  Then I changed into my thermals and wore my snowboarding socks and a wool beanie to bed.  It was a long night of sleep.  I racked up 10 hours and Chalks 11.  The girls slept their usual 12.  Of course there was no television, but also no internet or phone connection.  It was one of the most isolated places I have ever been to.

Looks pretty, tastes uncool

Valli chows down on the whole black fish

Breakfast sucked as usual.  You know things are bad when you look forward to the soy sauce cured black fish as a welcome reprise from the other food.  Valentina certainly enjoyed it.  I was amazed.  She even played with the eye.  In this instance I was disturbed.  Post breaky it was up and out.  Chalky was keen to get back on the slopes seeing it had snowed all night.  I was less keen, but welcomed the thought of a hot chocolate and some kind of food that was recognisable.   I still felt sick.  The sore on my hand didn't seem healed either.  I mentioned my doubts about the reputed healing powers of the waters.  Chalks assured me that the healing was internal.  That night (when we returned the Japanese "Old Power" hotel for our final night in the area) I had a very unsettled sleep.  I kept waking up absolutely drenched in sweat.  It was pretty gross, but I was too weak to do anything about it.  Well by morning time, the results were undeniable.  I was completely back to my old annoying self.  I seriously felt 100% cured.  Completely over it and ready for an action filled day on the slopes.  I became an instant believer in the powers of the Tsuronoyu Onsen waters.

The weather looked good at the bottom

Narnia

Thank god for that really.  We had booked a CAT tour to the back country, and now disused resort located nearby to Tazawako Ski Village.  Taking a CAT tour to a now non-operating resort is the stuff of legend.  Many people talk about it - how it's possible, how there are so many resorts that closed down after the 80s boom, and sit vacant, waiting for pow pow creamers to come and rip it up - yet nobody I've ever met has actually done it.  Well, we were going to go for it.  The urban legend of CAT riding the deserted resort was going to become our reality.  I was extremely excited.  This faded a little to anxiety when I got handed a pack with a shovel, snow shoes, retractable poles and had an avalanche beacon strapped to me.  Chalks, myself, a guide and a short middle aged man called Mr Yamanuchi all piled into the CAT ready for adventurous action.  By this stage the two coffee's I'd had for breakfast were filling my bladder at an increasing rate and I wondering with some alarm where the hell I was going to achieve release.  It was an exceedingly long ride to the top.  At some stages it even seemed like the large vehicle just wasn't going to make it.  The landscape was startlingly beautiful.  Like Narnia in The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe, when the Snow Queen ruled the lands with an icy oppressing fist.

Freezing and unforgiving

Shelter

Finally we came to a stop and were told to pile out.  There was a small hikers hut which we took temporary shelter in as the weather had come in bad.  There was a toilet!!! (I chose to hover over the completely ice encrusted seat).  Apparently we had a two hour snow shoe hike ahead of us.  I was completely shocked.  Was this in the brochure??? Who would know, the fucking thing was completely in Japanese.  I honestly thought it would be up and down all day in the heated CAT.......I guess the snow shoes on my pack should have really set off the alarm bells before we left.

Some people are cool, some just aren't

After waiting a little while in the freezing cold, our guide - Fujiwara - informed us that "a short walk" would now be necessary.  So off we went.  Snow shoes on, board on back, poles a ready.  Has anyone ever tried uphill deep snow walking before?  I wouldn't.  Unless physical pain is your thing.  The sheer beauty of my surroundings kept me occupied for a little while, then imagining a bear waking up mid hibernation and feeling a little peckish meant I didn't let myself lag too far behind.  I was tempted to scream out KUMA!!!! (bear) on occasion - just to see the masses panic.  But I didn't feel cruel enough to go for it.  Also, because I was bringing up the rear, the others had already trampled the snow down somewhat and it was far easier for me, so there was a twinge of guilt (which didn't last long actually) that also prevented the false cry of man eating beast.  Chalks didn't seem to be loving life really.  I decided to annoy him by chanting "Witness the Fitness"  about my unpuffed self.  It was definitely annoying.  For him.  Not for me though.  It was actually hilarious.  Then I realised that with icicles hanging off his helmet, a stiff frozen face-warmer, ice all over his face and completely frozen goggles, Chalks was not going to be chuckling about my lame jokes at any time soon. I quit the jokes, decided definitely against the bear call, and took photos instead....see......

Chalk's least favourite moment of the whole trip captured on camera and shared with all

Trample that snozza down for me honey, trample it down

Only put this in to try to impress

By the time we made it to the top, I was thinking "This had better be good".  And it was.  It's not often that you get to swoosh through a metre of untouched powder in the middle of nowhere.  It was a short-lived pleasure though.  Honestly I would have expected more for all that trudging.  Then the next part involved more swooshing, some pushing ourselves with retractable poles through thick snow, another walk with snow shoes, and finally more swooshing.  The swooshing part was what it was all about.  But I would like to point out that it was a whole lot of work for not much - to be honest.  The pain far exceeded the short moments of pleasure.  And there were some pretty badly uncomfortable moments.  My low point arrived when all my fingers and toes had gone numb from pushing myself through deep snow with the poles.  Then once I started the next phase - walking with the snow shoes again - and the blood began to flow through my toes finally,  the pain was horrendous.  It was like my little piggies were being crushed in a vice.  Fun stuff.  Did we really pay a hundred and fifty smacakaroos to be tortured like this?  The only thing that was going through my mind apart from "God NOOOOOOOO" was that song from 1990-something.  Retractable Penis.  It was because of the retractable poles you see.  I just couldn't get it out of my head......"retractable penis, retractable penis.....".  Then Chalks informed me that it was actually "Detachable Penis".  I was disappointed.  I do that lyric-fuck a lot too.  Probably the worst one was with that song by The Rolling Stones "Start Me Up, Start me up, (I'll never stop)".....for some reason I thought the words went "Stomeo, Stomeo, I'll never talk".......Chalks pointed that out to me on one of our first dates.  That was a tad embarrassing actually.  Oh well, like I said, he still married me, despite my disabilities.

The toes are really hurting here

Another less fine moment for the old ball and chain

Talking of disabilities, I think me, Chalks and Mr Yamanuchi were all relieved when we ungracefully rolled out of the back country, and tumbled down a snowy shoot next to a river of sulphur smelling water.  For a start I was starving.  There's only so many miles of uphill walking in snow shoes that a few sheets of dried seaweed and a bite of fish head will cover you for.  I had reached my limits long ago.  Besides we had a date with some besties in Tokyo and were leaving that afternoon.  I was actually looking forward to breakfast carbs, a bed that wasn't on the floor, stepping outside my room without a round of ohayo gozaimus with all the geriatrics, a pillow that wasn't made of pebbles and a tiny break from being buried alive in snow.  No matter how much you love it, a change is always fun......

OK, I'll put one in of Chalks looking cool too

Buried in Snow in Japan's own Tazzie

I've seen better photos

Long live Tazawako!  We fricken love it here.  What a random gem of a resort.  It's tiny, that's for sure, but it kicks big arse.  The snow is always excellent, the crowds are sparse, the foreign scum consist only of us (and a few Koreans on occasion - who come to see where their favourite Korean Love Drama was partially filmed), and the silver haired crowd rule supreme. The older skiers even wear badges that say "Japan Old Power" on their upper arms.   Particularly, the greys dominate in the hotel we booked into this year.  We couldn't stay in last year's hotel (banned possibly?), or the one the year before that (gone out of business...due to us??), so we randomly selected another.  It was gold.  As I mentioned, a classic Japanese country hotel.  So dated and shabby.  Only Japanese style rooms, food and language.

Japan-easy

Bendies Inc.

It was completely packed with olds.  I've never a seen a more concentrated collection of osteoporosis.  The Japanese get it bad too.  Too much bending down in those rice paddies year after year can do nasty things to your posture.  It must be so uncomfortable, never being able to straighten up.  Although part of me just want to put a knee in those backs, grab hold of the shoulder and have a good old wrench and say "Stand up straight you old bendy , and stop staring at my fanny".  That's exactly where they're looking too when you go for your evening onsen.  And it's not like I can tell them to stop staring, their eyes have no where else to go.

A friend of mine, due to arrive in Japan tomorrow asked if she would feel out of place having an onsen and being unwaxed in the lady garden region.  I was like "No way".  The Brazilian is yet to sweep Japan.  All the ladies embrace their forests like they do the remainder of Japan's once thriving old growth.  The bush is back.  In fact it never went away.  Those pubes are thick, and anyone who isn't on board feels like a peeve with a Lolita complex who's trying to get a role in a D grade porno.  That would be me by the way.  I'm still suffering the effects from an over zealous fanny waxer with a penchant for pubic pain.  I forgot about the side effect of showing the female half of the Japanese public my clitoris whenever I decided to bathe nude publicly.  Usually I wouldn't even go there, but those mineral baths after a hard day on the snow are out of control fucking fabulous.  It is worth the public shunning of perversion.

Mary Kate and Ashley - The Misty Onsen Twins

Whole fish and other crap

I want to delve briefly into the food here before I go into detail about my legendary performance daily on the snow (actually I've been pretty sooky and lame this week, but more about that soon).  Chalks is mad for the food here.  But me, I tire of it.  Too many dishes, most of them unidentifiable and weird.  I like to know what I'm eating, and I don't want it to be green, snotty, and include an edible head.  It is a good idea to learn how to say "I don't want" in Japanese prior to arrival.  That way you can also order your lunch noodles without the raw egg and the frothy snot.  They never serve sushi at these kind of places.  Or tempura, or any of your usual Japanese classics loved in the west.  There's a reason why the Japanese Mini Whole Fish restaurants never really took off, and why the Tokyo Pond Sludge joint on St Kilda Road sits empty every night.  Just not tasty.  I don't want to eat fibrous roots for dinner.  I'll have the soup, but does it have to include really bizarre types of giant twisted mollusks?  Same with breakfast.  There was nothing to eat.  I just can't go that grated yam shit - it really does take on the consistency of phlegm.  Fuck off with your stewed meat too.  Not one piece of bread in sight.  I know I'm in Japan, but who doesn't love a mini muffin in the morning?  Put a banana muffin on a plate next to a sour pickled mini plum and who's going to zone in on the plum?  Really???  Be honest with yourselves here people, I don't care how long it's been since you ate carbs.  Amazingly Valli and Cordi developed a fondness for dried seaweed.  That was all they ate for breakfast - maybe a couple of spoons of rice to go with it.  I was impressed.  That stuff is good for you.......not very filling though really.....

Munch it down Vee Vee

View from one of our windows

Not much to ski on either.  Those seaweed sheets must be about 3 calories a pop.  We only put them in ski school one day here.  Not because the ski school wasn't good, actually it was brilliant.  But because of 2 things.  Number 1 = day care was so incredibly cheap - $17 dollars for a whole day - each kid.  Crazy.  And, number 2 = it was just so bloody cold.  Seriously it was freezing.  Minus 25 with the wind chill factor, and I was not loving life.  I had to keep coming in and taking hot chocolate breaks to try and warm up.  It was brutal.  Windy as all hell too sometimes.  But the snow itself was totally worth it.  It practically didn't stop the whole time we were there.  And with the lack of other punters there was so much fresh snow to be had it felt almost criminal that more people weren't there enjoying it.

Dreaming of my bathers, the beach and a chilled white wine here

The difference with Tazawako, is that rather than being privately owned - like somewhere such as APPI -  Tazawko is a state owned ski mountain.  This is why it is cheap and well maintained.  It must be one of the only ones in the area, and the local government keeps pouring money into it, despite the lack of crowds.  It's why the day care is next-to-nothing, the ski school is cheapish (and good), and why new restaurants keep being built, and everything is impeccably cared for.  It's very personal and homely.  Just like the hotels and all the people that work here.

Number One Fanclub

This place also has a special kind of meaning for us, because it is where we were the day that the March Earthquake/Tsunami hit Japan nearly 2 years ago.  Every time we go up the summit lift, we recall the sensation of the earthquake from so high up,  and of course,  it's aftermath.  The people that work at the resort still remember us from this day.  I guess you remember things from traumatic events.  It's nice to be welcomed back fondly though.  And I think that's why the ladies in the childcare room love Valli and Cordi so much.  They were with them at that time,  they protected them, and held them until we finally made our way back to our babies two hours after it struck.

Looking good on the runs

Just a brief visit this time.  But of course we will come back next year.  It's too good to stay away. I do have a boot to put in though.  They seem to have borrowed APPI's favourite ski slopes CD to blast all over the mountain from the various speakers mounted on the chair lift line.  I like to call it - "Modern Songs to Ski To" Volume 2.  Well, who knows what it's really called, but if I ever hear "Somebody I used to Know"  "Diamonds in the Sky" and "We're Gunna Die Young" on loop repeat again for days in a row, I'm going to use my new fuchsia helmet like a large rock and shatter somebody's jaw bone.  I was visibly relieved when they changed it to J-Pop yesterday, and usually I can't stand the shit.  Even last year's favourite "Mournful Japanese Ballads to Ski To" Volume 16, that used to send me insane, would have been better than Gotye, Rihanna, and not to mention, her slutty little white trash friend .

Yes you, Scrag Face

So if you feel you can put up with bad music blaring across the powdery fields, and really disrupting your peaceful appreciation of the glorious snowy world, that is Tazawako Ski Jo, then you should come along. It is hard to get here though, and the language barrier can be a challenge considering you will not meet a single soul who speaks a word of English.  It's the sticks dudes.  I don't think the JET program has infiltrated schools out here yet, and certainly there's no English schools to be seen.  It takes some sort of determination to get here (and a legend of a husband who makes it happen every year), plus a higher diploma in charades.  This is the true Japanese countryside.  It's not for everyone, but it is for us!!!!

Red nose, strained with the bone numbing chills, but happy

Not Happy Appi

"The bold yellow facade is symbolic of the impressive APPI Resort"

Actually we were happy.  How can you not be.  Mountains of snow and crab legs, and people smiling at you all day and calling your kids cute.  "Yes, yes, they're very cute....how about you take them for lunch and try to stop them rolling around under the table on the floor in a dirty pond of soup from their noodle bowls lady?  Oh, and that will be 100 yen for that photo you just took".   Japan, Australia, The Caribbean - where ever..... Kids. Are. Annoying.  Cute?  Yeah sure, why not?? But annoying??? Always and without fail.

"APPI Grand is created by one designer's wish and dream"

We had decided to enrol them into ski school seeing as we dropped a bundle on their equipment in Tokyo.  Those little ingrates were going to get out on that mountain and they were going to enjoy it dam it.  Ski you little bastards, SKI.  If I had to push them down the slopes with their own mini ski pole I was prepared to do it.  However, we paid a pack of sullen ski school teachers to do the job for us.  We decided to pay a third of the price and sneak them into the Japanese group lessons.  It didn't go down well.  Firstly, they didn't buy our assertions that they were 4 year olds (the tantrums and the crying for Mama pretty much gave the jig up here), and secondly they didn't speak a word of Japanese, so convincing the teachers that their Japanese was pretty good proved to be a bit tricky.  Well, maybe they could manage a "Konichiwa",  but how far does a comprehension of only "hello" get you when you are trying to avoid a couple of foreign infants hurtling out of control down a mountain with no idea how to stop.

"The instructor kindly teaches you in the small group lesson. After that, enjoy your fantastic riding on slope".

Yep, not popular.  It was like Pancake from Thailand all over again.  Only this time, it was a terrifying man called Manuba.  There are many cute Japanese people.  Manuba was not one of them.  He had the military attitude going on.  And it was scary.  Manuba was the kind of Japanese prick who starved our boys in the POW camps in WWII.  In fact, I am going one step further and suggest that Manuba's Daddy starved my Grandad.  I could hardly look him in the eye once I discovered this heartless connection between us.  What a bastard.  Like father like son is all I can say.  We actually had to bribe the girls with playing those stupid candy machine games to get them back every afternoon.  They weren't big on Manuba either (probably because I'd carefully explained to them about his father's inherent brutality").

Repeat after me "We love every minute of skiing"

The sad thing is, that once this would have been so cutting edge

What else did we get up to there, in our weird, dated resort??? Hmmmm - we visited a Korean BBQ restaurant.  Again, perhaps not a wise move.  Taking 3 year olds to eat in a restaurant with an open fire in the middle of your table is a bold strategy.  They wanted to be in charge of the tongs too, which was also a slight disadvantage to their safety.  God dam, that meat is good though.  But god dam it it can make you feel sick when you wake up in the middle of the night after the extremely fatty cuts have been swimming around with two giant beers for a couple of hours. Euuuughhhh.  I feel sick just recalling how sick I felt.  Breakfast was an interesting array.  Your usual Japanese items that I just can't find appealing - pickles, fish, sweet egg, potatoes stewed with pork and cabbage.  Oh and how about this one - deep fried ham?  It's like they were trying to design the most unhealthy food they could think of.  I ordered a latte.  It cost extra.  It was also the colour of dirt, and the most bitter thing I have ever had.  I still drank a third of it.  I was awake for 2 days.  Other interesting choices were brown rice bread and collagen bread.  Both looked and tasted exactly the same, and exactly like white bread rolls.

Good shit.  Good, good shit.

Collagen is a popular item for consumption here.  Apparently turtle is full of the shit, and thus is a popular choice for the ladies.  It was on the dinner menu of the Japanese restaurant we tried one night.  So was "raw horse" and our personal favourite, number 53. "Assorted Slimy Foods".  Yummy.  Why not say it how it is.  Obviously "slime" in Japanese doesn't have the same connotation it does in English. Other things up for snack were piles of crab legs, and a curry buffet where there were 8 different curries on offer - with names like "English Curry"  "Mild Curry for Children" "Curry of Southern Europe" "Javanese Curry".  Every single one of them tasted exactly the same.  I mean exactly.  Teamed with this dazzling array of Curries of The World was a fridge full of ice cream or as it was signed "GERATO".  Apparently these "gerato" were "certified by the  Italian gerato association of  Japan".  Go to a lot of trouble why don't you.....However, you may want to kick things things off with the correct spelling of the word "gelato" for a feasible starting point. I'm not sure what the blue flavour was, but it wasn't good.  Nothing blue is really.  I preferred "green tea gerato".  In fact I'm always into the green tea favoured bullshit as soon as I get to Japan.  I particularly like the green tea frappuccinos from Starfucks, oh, and the Haagen Dazs green tea ice-cream cups.

The only photo of the globes I could find

But our stay in Appi was a brief one.  Although I love to hang shit on it, let's face it, it was brilliant.  The snow was supreme and the beer chilled.  The rooms were comfy, despite their retro tragicness (Japan must SO be waiting for 80s furniture and building styles to once again have their moment - when that happens they are IN!).  You should have seen the globes in the Korean BBQ restaurant.  As soon as we entered I remarked to Chalk's "Obviously ambient lighting isn't a priority for them".  The room was lit up like a hospital toilet.  All he could say to me was "How would they find a replacement globe?".  I lost it in hysterics.  Each globe in each hideous light was a curved and swirly bright fluorescent tube about 3 metres long.  It wouldn't be easy that's for sure.  They must curse the architects name every time one of those suckers blows.

Waiting waiting......

But. we were off to our next destination - beloved Tazawako - pretty much our all time favourite resort in Japan.  Small, authentically Japanese and constantly buried in mounds of fresh snow.  But first let me mention our unfortunate train situation that we experienced when getting here.  We were cutting it fine, there was no doubt.  We arrived at the train station by bus, with 5 minutes to spare.  Chalks bought our tickets.  The train left at 4.24pm.  The time on the clock said 4.24pm.  We sprinted for it (AGAIN).  The station masters directed us to track 14 - we bolted up the escalator, the door were closing, Chalks jumped on, the platform attendant was blowing a whistle, the train was ringing it's bell, I came running, passed the girls to Chalks, passed my bags to Chalks, squeezed through the open doors, and away we went!!  Ha HA! Said we, chuckling about our superior skills in train boarding capabilities.  This feeling of smugness evaporated when we showed the tea lady our tickets.  We were on the wrong bloody train.  And it was an express going in totally the wrong direction.  We were rooted.  We stood outside the toilets with all our stuff and the kids rolling around on the ground crying for 40 minutes (travelling at 200kmph), until it made it's first stop.  Then we got off, only to find that we missed the train back to the station we had just come from by 1 minute, and had an hour to wait at a tiny station for the next one.  Freezing cold, limited food.  At least we found the heated waiting room.  Scared everyone else out though - just the way I like it.  Finally it was back to the original station, and another 40 minute wait before we could eventually board the correct train.  We were 3 hours late.  But, of course we made it in the end, and here we are.....at last.  Tazawako in Akita prefecture.  Staying in another classically authentic Japanese countryside hotel.  We are all sleeping on the floor of our tatami mat room.  It absolutely reeks of sulphur from the onsen (hot spring) inside the hotel.  It is jammed full of the over 80 crowd having  a hot springs holiday.  Nobody speaks even one word of English.  Basically, it is absolutely perfect!!

Valli got taught the classic Japanese camera pose by the girls in the background

Let The Honeymoon Commence....!

Oh.  That's right.  We'll be sharing a bedroom with our two small children for the next 6 weeks.

I did something I’m ashamed of.  Actually more to the point, I did something that I’m ashamed of, because I know it's bad, I loved doing it, I loved the effects, and I will be sure to do it again.  But before I confess, let me explain the circumstances……Briefly.  Let’s start with the post-wedding comedown, which included major house pack up, scramble to see all my beloveds, stuff storage, final dinners, and final goodbyes.  Flight to Melbourne, more beloved-seeing scrambles, late night dinner, repacking and re-storage….and finally……a 9 hour overnight flight to Japan, via a 2 hour stop-over in Sydney (10.30pm departure from there).  Very crowed flight = no chance of blocking off the surrounding seats to lie grumbling 3 years olds down for 3 hours sleep (if we’re lucky).  This is the usually the best we’d be able to hope for.  Because, usually, by the time the ridiculous 11.30pm meal is finished, and following the promised viewing of the plane movies they always get in a tizzy about (piss OFF Happy Feet Two….stupid little dancing penguin idiot); it would take us to about about 1am.  And, of course, even at this rude hour, the bloody economy cabin lights would still not be dimmed.  All this would typically result in two little girls with a serious case of the "over-tireds" and therefore even less chance of them going to sleep. Crap.  Sux.  Shithouse.

Hello my little darling

This visit, we had a 6am arrival (Japan time) to contend with, and of course had no chance of checking in at our hotel until mid/late afternoon.  Plus, we had a full day of snow gear buying ahead of us.  All great of course - but tricky with the midgets at the very best of times.  All of that realisation about the anticipated hell of day 1 of our "honeymoon" was starting to collect into a bitter taste in my mouth.  Plus, I was already one exhausted individual.  Until I had a brilliant plan.  That genius idea was to drug my daughters, and thus myself.  It was the first time (for them that is, I’m no stranger to better living through chemical enhancement on long flights - I just can't do it much these days in case the kids break into the cockpit while I'm on the nod).  Anyway, it worked like a charm.  On them I used a child-friendly anti-histamine.  Sweet little Phenergan – friend to many parents - including my own so I hear, the 70s was Phenergen's heyday.  Watch out though baby owners, you can’t use it in the under twos (bring on that breakfast dose on their 2nd birthday though).  Also, it can go the opposite way and make your offspring hyperactive instead of drowsy.  Now THAT would be bad on an over-nighter.  On mine, however, it lived up to the hype.   When things began to look promising, I pumped a Xanax into me.  Again, what a pleasure.  All three of us nodded off just as the plane took off.  Slumped at awkward angles in our upright prick of a seats; seats that would normally produce a long flight of interrupted sleep, sore necks, that annoying jerking thing that happens that wakes you up in terror.  Naturally they'd be plenty of howling, whinging, bitchin’, and finally red wine consolation (and that's just from me).  Not this time.  None of that nonesense.  We dozed and frolicked in our pleasant dreams all the way to Tokyo, where we woke refreshed and ready for an active day in the big city.

There she blows......

The old hood

God knows what's inside, but they sure look cute

Chalky said he felt sick to his soul to see me dish out the doping meds (whatevs Mr Perfect) – but I bet that feeling became obsolete, when he got to watch Argo without any whinging or nagging, and chow down in peace without a slimy paw slipping into pinch his ice cream (I love ice cream).…..So, in absolutely brilliant moods, the four of us got off our flight, amidst the red eyes and shitty attitudes of our fellow travellers,  to see the red morning sun of Japan slowing ascending over the hills.  How very symbolic for our touch-down in the land of the rising sun.

Very nice indeed

I was elated!! We were back!! Konichifuckingwa everybody!!!!  A couple of hours, and a bus and taxi ride later, we arrived at our hotel in Tokyo.  Only for a bag drop.  The front desk seated us in their executive lounge (whose morning tranquillity we destroyed in one vile swoop), and apologised profusely that we were not able to check-in. Stop grovelling love, it's unbecoming..... We were offered, however, an immediate check-in option.  We could pay an extra three and a half thousand dollars and go directly to the president’s suite.  What a tempting offer. And not to mention, an incredible bargain.  The fact that they suggested it in all seriousness is one of the funny things about Japan.  They didn’t give a shit we looked like refugees, or were all sporting bad cases of halitosis.  They really though that perhaps an upgrade of that calibre was really what we might have liked, and budgeted for.  I should have asked to at least view it.  Lets face it, it would have been the closest I would ever get to the presidential suite.  But then of course, seeing it would make me despise our real room we would be of course forced to occupy following the presidential tease.  It was a no win situation really.

Love a bit of city + kimono

Just in case you wonder if the shop in the background is indeed "Almond".....

Tokyo Architecture at it's finest - I actually once taught English here

So anyway, we told them to shove off, and instead spent part of our presidential budget on shopping for a fair amount of snow equipment.  We felt superior.  The prices are easily a quarter of Australia – many, many bargains to be had in a large district of Tokyo devoted entirely to ski and snowboard shops.  The main thing I was happy about, was getting new snowboarding pants.  I seriously nearly gave myself my own version of genital mutilation whenever I bent down to do up my bindings last year.  At least I’d have one aspect sorted if I ever thought about conversion to the Islamic faith.

Always time for everybody's favourite!

Good old Shinkasen desu 

It was a one night Tokyo affair though – the next day it was pack ‘em up, mooooooovvvveeee ‘em out (to borrow Alex’s favourite quote).  But first, there were a few issues actually getting on our train.  We had given ourselves quite a bit of time to get to the train station located right next to the hotel.  However, we didn’t count on the complete balls-up the bellboys were responsible for, in regarding moving our bags from room to lobby.  Strangely, they seemed to have lost them, that part was unclear though.  Thirty minutes to get a few bags in the elevator when the pressure was on seemed a bit of a bold move.  What was clear however, was that Chalks, myself, the girls, and an apologetic bellhop, ended up sprinting for our lives, through Maranouchi station, and just managed to squeeze (with thirty seconds to spare), onto our Shinkansen bound for Iwate prefecture.  Even though my husband! (first time in this blog everyone, first time….) nearly suffered a heart attack from sprinting up several flights of stairs, through corridors and along the train platform carrying his own gear, there was another person who attracted more of my sympathy.  The unfortunate bellboy was carrying all of my luggage.  This included my 30kg suitcase, my snowboard bag - bursting with not only my own equipment, but also the girls new skis, helmets etc, AND an extremely heavy and giant shoulder bag filled with books, my computer, toys and other assorted accessories.  The poor prick.

Toshihara in crocheted bunny form

His poor, golden, shiny nametag lay twisted on the ground beside him.  His scarlet red face ran wet with an intense sweat.  His heavy breathing indicated serious lung fuck, and on top of all of this, he had to endure wearing a really stupid looking uniform.  The worst was the hat with the gold tassel hanging off the side.  How he didn’t lose that ridiculous item on the fourth flight of stairs I’ll never know.  As he desperately tried to pass Chalks my bags before the train doors trapped him in their metal grip, he had to offer the required series of Japanese overdone apologies: “Please Mr Korman, I’m so sorry Sir, this will never happen again, please forgive me, it was a terrible mistake, please come back and stay at the Shangri-La again Sir, I promise you will have a much better experience, Sir……I’m soooooooo......  The doors finally slammed shut.  As the Shinkansen pulled away, I could still see the ruined dude bowing like a maniac, and mouthing more and more sorrys.  Hopefully we would never see him again.  Sometimes the submissiveness thing is uncomfortable.  I want it to stop, but it keeps going and going……It’s effective though.  No complaints about Toshihara from us.  Hope he got his nametag fixed before his boss saw it…..that’s the kind of thing that results in a sacking.

A few hours later we arrived in Appi “King of Snow”.  Although, it wasn’t as smooth as that.  Cut to an image of me swearing my head off in the dark, slipping around like an idiot, trying to drag an unwieldy suitcase across a frozen icy train platform, in a poor attempt to get to a waiting shuttle bus, with the snowboard bag on my back.  A bag so heavy that it was seriously disrupting my balance.  Meanwhile, the kids were face down in a high mound of dirty snow having quite the feast.  At that moment I wondered why we weren’t lying on a beach in Thailand ordering mojitos.  But back to Appi, The Snow King.   Like many resorts in Japan, it would have been totally cutting edge when it was built in the 80s.  Now, it just seems a little dated and unfortunate.  Whatevs, if the snow is good, the beer is cold and the little druggies are palmed off, we’ll take it…..plus, there must be somewhere I can get a mojito……too early 2000s though??? Maybe a 'white russian' then, or a 'sex-on-the-beach'.......Come to think of it, Cocktail itself, staring old Tommy Boy is probably promoted as a latest Hollywood blockbuster here. Is it time to reminisce with that classic yet?  It couldn't be worse than it was in 1988 could it????

Happy to be in Appi