Rice and Ramen

As some of you may have known, this past weekend Typhoon Hagibis blew through Japan, specifically the Kanto region where Tokyo is. It had the grim distinction of being the strongest/most deadly storm to hit the region since Typhoon Ida in 1958. Typhoon classification scales are confusing (and, interestingly, the only difference between a "typhoon" and a "hurricane" is the naming convention of the region in which it occurs ), but at one point Hagibis was classified as a "violent typhoon," the strongest category the Japan Meteorological Agency has, roughly the equivalent of a Category 5 hurricane. Fortunately it didn't make landfall at that strength, downgrading to a Category 3 equivalent storm. Personally, although Typhoon Hagibis (which means, appropriately, "speed" in Tagalog) was not the first typhoon I've (pardon the pun) weathered here in Japan, it was most certainly the most extreme. Most typhoons don't directly hit Kanto, inst...

There is a common saying about Japan's tallest mountain: "A wise man climbs Fuji once. Only a fool climbs it twice." There's another tradition that everyone should climb Mount Fuji at least once in their lifetime (perhaps with the intention to become wise, if there's any merit to the saying). Making the trek myself has always bee on my unofficial "bucket list" of things I wanted to do in Japan. Last year I scheduled days to attempt the climb -- twice! -- but was thwarted each time by inclement typhoons. This year, the climb was absolutely going to happen. A few weeks before my own attempt, my coworker, Shaun, climbed Mount Fuji for the first time under the expert guidance of another coworker, Oscar. They made an incredibly entertaining and insightful podcast episode about the entire process (which you can listen to  here ). I took a lot of good advice from Shaun about what to pack for the climb, which Troy, his dad, and I were going to do overni...

Happy 2019 everyone! Though to be fair, it is already the end of January, and even by Japanese standards it's too late to say "Happy New Year." I just realized I haven't written since November, back when Troy and I climbed Mount Takao to take a look at the fall foliage. Needless to say, there's no more autumn colors here in Tokyo (though still shocking amounts of green on trees everywhere; it NEVER feels like winter here to me despite the somewhat chilly temperatures). The end of 2018 was a bit of a hectic rush, what with the natural chaos of the Christmas holidays colliding with a lot of advanced work to prepare for my two-week vacation. I used up the rest of my vacation days to spend some well-deserved and much-needed RR back in Chicago, where I did nothing except sleep, eat, watch TV, and catch up with friends and family. Returning to the "real world" after that was a bit of a shock to the system! But I'm all settled into my usual routine...

When I think of quiet, meandering rivers, lush vegetation, and little sound other than your own footsteps and the chirping of various hidden birds Tokyo usually isn't the first place comes to mind. That's what makes the  Todoroki Ravine  a bit of a hidden gem as well as a refuge from the hustle of the city. It's a bit of a hike (pun intended?) to get to, but it's worth the trip.  One of the nicest things about Todoroki, in addition to its verdant charm, is the decrease in temperature. Even though I went there on a rather cloudy and somewhat chilly day, I've been told it's a popular refuge in summer when the heat and humidity become impossible to bear.  Golf Bridge (Apparently there used to be a golf course nearby.) Golf Bridge is at one end of the 1.2-kilometer course (so, really, even at an amble you can cover the entire length of Todoroki in an hour or so) and at the other end is the Chigo Daishi Mieido Shrine, dedicated to Kobo Daishi ...

Sometimes when you're in Tokyo, as wonderful as its bustling atmosphere is, you just want to forget you're in the middle of Tokyo. Even if the sunsets are gorgeous. A few weeks ago I was chatting with a guy from Sweden who regularly came to Japan on business and he said that despite how much he loved Tokyo he could never live here because of the lack of green space. Tokyo has its parks, of course, like all major cities, but if you want unspoiled greenery you have to be willing to head at least forty minutes outside of the sprawling metropolis limits. In winter this desire to surround oneself with greenery might not matter as much, but now that spring is seeping into the atmosphere and the upcoming sakura season is on everyone's mind (NHK even puts out an annual "forecast" for sakura!) the neon lights and concrete jungle start to feel a little oppressive. That's when little hideaways like the Sato Sakura Museum and Kohmeisen come in handy. The  S...