Kyoto, Shinkansen, Tokyo: three first-timers in Japan via Air China (page 3 of 6)

Hi Alain,

I really like your photographic perspective. It’s so different from the "classic" shots, and that’s part of the travel experience—even if we don’t always dare to photograph people candidly.

Good evening Alain

I really like your photographic angle. It’s so different from the "classic" clichés, and that’s part of the journey—even if we don’t always dare to photograph people candidly.

Hey Eric

I have a friend who’s a professional photographer (not a tinkerer like me), and he has a knack for approaching people and asking them to pose. But he also takes stolen shots, as long as the image doesn’t harm the subject. It’s a lesson I try to keep in mind. Sometimes, I ask for permission. But certain candid scenes would lose all their magic if I did... So, to be honest, I prefer to act discreetly, even if it weighs on my conscience a bit.

Absolutely, instant photos have that extra soul. The art of turning an ordinary scene into a really beautiful shot 😉.

Hi Alain, Your travel journal brings back such great memories. I visited Japan for the first time in spring 2017. It’s fascinating to read your posts while you’re there. For me, an initial feeling—or maybe some preconceptions I brought along —transformed over time into something even more positive after I returned, even though I already loved it while I was there. I feel like I brought back a hidden treasure that only fully revealed itself to me little by little and took on a life of its own. The way you tell your story and your photos are a real treat. Thank you so much! I’m looking forward to what’s next. Maevita

Good evening Maevita,

Thanks for your kind words. It’s true that some experiences work on us without us realizing it and only reveal their true value over time... We were in Japan last April, but this was written day by day. So it comes with all the flaws—and maybe the strengths—of a discovery in the moment. Just really happy you enjoyed it.

I’ve been on a plane before, but it wasn’t this fast. The Shinkansen with its funny nose cuts across the country like a katana slash.

The nose worn by the effort of two Shinkansen

When the train stops, a door slides open like something out of a sci-fi story. You step right in—no steps, the train floor is level with the platform: perfect for wheeled luggage.

Sliding door

Waiting for departure, text version

and voice version

Each car has sixteen rows of five seats. The aisle divides the row into groups of two and three seats, each group able to be rotated to face forward or backward, depending on what the passengers prefer. All you have to do is pull a lever at the base of the seat near the aisle.

Jet profile Interior comfort

Power outlets under the windows let you charge laptops and phones. When you sit down, you instinctively look for a seatbelt to buckle before takeoff—understandable reflex. Thin carpet, dim but adequate overhead lights for reading.

Two detective novels had already tipped me off about how important the rail network is to Japanese society. *Tokyo Express*, also called *The Tokyo Express* by Seicho Matsumoto, revolves around the mystery of people who supposedly committed suicide, conveniently spotted at Tokyo Station. The story explores whether the killer could’ve committed the crime while sticking to the train schedule. This huge late-1950s hit—pretty much unreadable for French readers in its last section—speaks volumes about how central railroads are to the local imagination, and shows a real taste for the scientific precision of a plot woven into the reality of the train timetable.

Rails in Kyoto

Kyotaro Nishimura’s *The Tottori Dunes* builds an amazing plot around the most unlikely event: a train has vanished, along with dozens of passengers. It left, but never arrived. Vanished? Destroyed? But how could that be? And why the ransom demand? I’ll leave it to mystery lovers to discover the answers in Nishimura’s twist-filled novel.

On the way from Kyoto to Tokyo, Mount Fuji is on the left, but unfortunately, it was hidden by clouds during our trip. The landscapes we passed weren’t the endless suburbs some careless writers describe—they’re a mix of countryside and cities, with huge industrial complexes popping up now and then. View from the train

The cars are full: businessmen, tourists, families with babies. Several times, a hostess comes by with drinks and ice cream. The conductor, in white gloves, full uniform, and cap, bows each time he enters or leaves the car. A large electronic display above the door scrolls messages in Japanese and English, giving travel updates and announcing the next stop: “We will soon make a brief stop at Shinagawa.” Flashing arrows clearly show which side the exit will be on.

Brief encounter

The only downside? The Shinkansen’s toilets aren’t high-tech. So, no fancy bidet options that make Japanese restrooms so great. We make do by trying to decipher the instructions titled “how to use the toilet,” which highlight—by omission—an odd but apparently common way of doing things that needed to be banned. How do you say *E pericoloso sporgersi* in Japanese?

Proper use of the facilities

Hi Alain,

I’ve also been reading your travel journal with interest—I love the tone, sometimes caustic, sometimes offbeat, but never dull. 😉

I’m drooling over your photos, whether it’s the candid shots (I don’t know if I’d have dared to take those portraits) that speak volumes or the polished ones with framing, colors, or exposure (the night shot of Gion is stunning, for example). Bravo!

Thanks for taking the time to let us live vicariously through your experiences—it’s really uplifting. 🙂

See you soon,

Violaine

"A large electronic display, visible to everyone above the door, scrolls alternately in Japanese and English, providing travel information and alerting passengers to the next stop."

Not to mention the cute little tune that announces the upcoming announcement!

And kudos for the photo of that red Meitetsu train you're passing by (between Nagoya and Toyohashi?).

Forgotten, the hushed Kyoto with its gentle ways. Here’s the capital, Tokyo, with its fast-paced rhythm. Taking the subway already feels more like a combat sport: the cars are more crowded, and some people make space by pushing their way in with their backs first.



Asleep

Hanging on

Dreaming



Among friends

Don’t let go of the handrail

Like this young mother

Our apartment is in Ryogoku, the sumo district.

Heavy stuff

Tributes

Celebration

Overwhelming

Tributes to the greatest sumo wrestlers line the avenue leading from the station, like stars on Hollywood Boulevard. Each one features a small statue, the champion’s record, and their handprints. Inside the station itself, huge portraits remind visitors of the legend of these agile yet hefty athletes.

Cave art

Taking flight

Not bad, but what if we dance?

The Edo-Tokyo Museum is just a stone’s throw away. A quick note: two nearby stations share the same name, something we’ve noticed several times already in this city. It’s confusing but makes sense since there’s a separate subway station and a train station. For Ryogoku, you’ll need to head to the train station to get closer to the museum entrance. The visit is fascinating, tracing the history of the capital up to the present day, with detailed models and reconstructions—so detailed that binoculars are provided to take it all in. The exhibit is complemented by an extensive collection of images. A French-language audio guide is available for free, and it even displays the text.

Like all major cities, Tokyo revolves around different hubs of activity. One of the most famous is Akihabara.

The return of kawaii

Akihabara, a Vegas strip vibe

On this weekday evening, the resemblance to the Las Vegas Strip is striking: a wide avenue lined with neon lights and massive illuminated signs draws a crowd looking for entertainment. You won’t find casinos here, but shops for geeks, otakus, manga and video game fans—or whatever you call them.

Maid in Japan

Here and there, maids in short outfits, speaking in high-pitched voices like Minnie Mouse, hand out flyers. I take one: the glossy pink paper invites me to visit a "maid café," where I’ll be served a kawaii dish shaped like a teddy bear, followed by a dessert mimicking an animal of the same kind. On the back, I learn I could rent a themed room for the modest sum of 500 yen per hour (just under 4 €, plus tax), provided I buy something. And, I imagine, get to admire the maids at my leisure. Out of curiosity to better understand the quirks of this country, the idea of checking it out piques my interest.

Ryogoku at night

Anti-harassment campaign?

Women-only car

End of the day

"A large electronic display, visible to everyone above the door, scrolls alternately in Japanese and English, giving travel information and alerting about the upcoming stop."

Not to mention the cute little tune that announces the next announcement!

And kudos for the photo of that red Meitetsu train you’re passing by (between Nagoya and Toyohashi?).

Yeah, it must’ve been around there. Glad to please a fellow traveler. And no thoughts on Kyotaro Nishimura?

Hello Alain,

I’m also reading your travel journal with interest—I love the tone, sometimes caustic, sometimes offbeat, but never dull. 😉

Hello Violaine.

Ah, "never dull"—that’s a real compliment. Very honored.

I’m drooling over your photos, whether it’s the "candid shots" (I don’t know if I’d have dared take those portraits) that are so expressive, or the "polished" ones with perfect framing, colors, or exposure (the night shot of Gion is stunning, for example). Bravo!

Thanks for taking the time to let us live vicariously through your experiences—it’s really uplifting. 🙂

See you soon,

Violaine

I checked out your Sicily travel journal—now it’s my turn to congratulate you on the quality of your photos! The text is also packed with info, from what little I’ve read so far.

Hi,

I checked out your travel journal on Sicily—just wanted to say your photos are amazing!

Thanks for the photographer compliment—I’ll pass it on. 😉 I’m happy just filling my eyes and mind with beautiful images and colors, then staring in awe at photos taken by others.😇

I still love your slice-of-life photos—they really immerse you in the real experience. That shot of the little schoolgirls is *so* cute (as my daughter would say)! The Edo-Tokyo Museum sounds right up my alley; looks like you enjoyed the visit—did you check out the open-air version in Koganei Park?

Violaine

Hey Alain

I’m still enjoying your travel journal and photos just as much. Oh Tokyo... A city that definitely won me over after spending a full week there. I’m actually trying to go back in mid-March for the sakura.

I still love your slice-of-life photos so much—they really immerse us in the real deal. That one of the little schoolgirls is too cute (as my daughter would say)! The Edo-Tokyo Museum really caught my eye; looks like you enjoyed the visit—did you check out the open-air version in Koganei Park?

It was on the list, but next time! I can’t even remember what we did instead. Yes, the Edo-Tokyo Museum is totally worth the trip—such a special visit. So cute! :)

Hey Alain

I still enjoy your travel journal and photos so much. Ah Tokyo... A city that definitely won me over after spending a full week there. I’m actually trying to go back in mid-March for the sakura.

Hey Eric,

Totally agree with you, even though we only passed through. Hope you can make it in March and bring back a great report for us.

For March, it should normally be okay soon. However, I hate to disappoint you, but I don’t have the time or the writing/photography skills to put together a quality trip report. Since I don’t like mediocrity, I’d rather skip it.

Straight out of an arcade game

This big

Domestic scenes?

This guy’s got a weird face

Ladies' delight

Escape

Tranquility

A world away from high-tech, frantic Tokyo, Koishikawa Korakuen Garden lets a realm of contemplation flourish. This legendary garden whispers the timeless wisdom of an ancient Japan, its lessons hidden beneath an unshakable tranquility. Locals come to sit here on stone benches, gazing at the wisteria in bloom, which at this time of year takes over from the cherry trees. Right next to the wisteria, a patch of earth is covered with a thin layer of water. Soon, rice planting will begin here.

The paths of Koishikawa Korakuen

Water is everywhere in Koishikawa Korakuen, bordered by earthen paths you tread softly or crossed by elegant bridges. One of them forms a perfect semicircle, designed to mirror the full moon when its reflection completes the image. On the water’s surface, giant carp push aside water turtles with their wide mouths, searching for a ray of sunlight. Around an inner lake, a pair of herons nest in the crevices of a rocky outcrop crowned by an ancient torii.

Reflections

Almost nothing

This arrangement of almost nothing—flowers, water, stones, and bridges—has the astonishing power to plunge visitors into a centuries-old scene where the distant Orient unfolds. China and Japan take turns revealing themselves during this short yet moving stroll.

Back to the crowds

Ad culture

Hachiko, the crowd-puller

Does the name Hachiko ring a bell? Maybe from a passage in *The Parrot’s Theorem*, the famous novel by Denis Guedj? The story is well-known. Every day, the dog waits at Shibuya Station for his master to return from work. One evening, the man dies at the office. For a decade, Hachiko keeps coming back to the same spot, keeping watch for a master who will never return. Like Argos, Odysseus’ dog, the animal becomes a symbol of loyalty, and after his death, a statue is erected in front of the station. Here, we find the full tourist kit—people from all over the world flashing peace signs next to the dog’s effigy, as if they’d just bagged some elusive prey.

Off

On

A man in the crowd

While Akihabara evoked Las Vegas, Shibuya is pure Times Square. Giant screens, a glut of megawatts, and postmodern shops draw a trendy crowd, moving in hundreds across wide pedestrian crossings.

Perspective

Akira in Shibuya



Eyeing the shopping world with a skeptical glance, I take refuge in the Tower Records building, well-known to music lovers across the oceans. Head straight to the 7th floor, classical CDs section. Many European artists have performed concerts in Japan, and the local archives surely hold some great surprises that aren’t always easy to find back home. I buy a few discs on a whim—or almost. Browsing the shelves, I’m amazed to find my name on the back of a series of CDs I’d written the liner notes for years ago, at the request of a Tokyo producer.

CD by the great conductor George Georgescu

Back then, I never imagined I’d one day set foot in Japan—let alone come face-to-face with myself.

"And no thoughts on Kyotaro Nishimura?"

No, because first, even though I’m interested in everything related to Japan in general, my knowledge is mostly about trains, and second, I’m not into literature at all—even in French. I can’t stand novels or movies. My library is mainly made up of technical and scientific books (mostly about trains, of course) in many languages (mostly French, English, and German, but also languages I don’t understand, like Japanese). The photos are beautiful and interesting, and I can usually guess the captions. As for movies, I never go, and for TV, I always watch Arte, France 5, National Geographic, or the occasional news reports on major networks.

An old acquaintance

There’s an unbearable side to Tokyo. We experienced it firsthand. In Harajuku and Yoyogi Park, we were supposed to see young Tokyoites dressed up on Sunday afternoon, following what’s supposedly a common custom. Alas! All we encountered were tourists, all searching for the same thing as us, talking loudly and in the most annoying way, their very presence undermining the place’s charm. A crushing failure, compounded by a huge waste of time. We don’t thank the guidebooks for this.

Takeshita Dori, or the honest man’s nightmare

Trinket seller

Just a stone’s throw away, the famous Takeshita Street (or Takeshita Dori) promised to let us experience that offbeat, slightly rebellious, and sometimes unsettling side of Japan. The crowd we got caught up in—surrounded by hordes of other suckers, trapped like us in the sneaky bottleneck of this narrow passage—did nothing to redeem Tokyo. What a contrast with Jizo Street in Sugamo, where a genuine market thrives, frequented by locals! Walking through it to the sound of street vendors’ calls is pure enchantment.

Jizo Street

Who’s this blond guy next to Mireille Mathieu?

In the area

Taller than the Eiffel Tower

Tokyo from Mori Tower

Tower viewed from another tower



Fabric

Less hyped than Harajuku and Takeshita, and therefore more successful, Roppongi offers a stunning view of the capital from the top of Mori Tower. We could’ve gone up the Tokyo Tower, Skytree, or the Tokyo Metropolitan Government Building. Chance led us to Mori, and we don’t regret it—it’s a fantastic experience. Roppongi is also a must-stop for shopping addicts, though it holds little interest for travelers looking to spend their time on other things. On the ground floor, a hideous contemporary sculpture by French-American artist Louise Bourgeois—a giant spider carrying its eggs—serves as a reminder that Paris isn’t the only city wasting its budget on loud, ugly, and overpriced monstrosities.

Soft, ugly, and harsh on the eyes: a certain contemporary art

SOS pompier art

Odaiba is mainly worth the trip: you get there by boat and leave by monorail (or vice versa). We took the boat from Hinode Pier. Tickets are bought on the spot, and you board a vessel that looks like the tacky spaceships from *San Ku Kaï*.

A futuristic line (from the 80s)

Under the Rainbow Bridge

The short trip passes under Rainbow Bridge, with its striking lines, and offers some great views of the skyline.

Miraikan Museum

Once on the island, you can visit the Miraikan Museum and meet Asimo, the goofy robot that sings and kicks a soccer ball. A bit like Pascal Olmeta, really.

Asimo at Miraikan

Taking the monorail back lets you see this large artificial island from a different angle, wave at the Statue of Liberty, and enjoy the sight of the subway racing along its winding path.



Bartholdi’s lady in Tokyo

Games

Escape

The monorail’s wild ride

Hi Alain, Your photos are fantastic! You’ve got a great eye for finding cool and original compositions 🙂. They’re really striking too—I love that. Your snarky comment about LB’s spider had me giggling, but not too loudly in case my art-teacher husband scolds me...

See you soon, Violaine

In the Harajuku district and at Yoyogi Park, we were supposed to see young Tokyoites dressed up parading on Sunday afternoon, according to a supposedly common custom.

I get the feeling that this no longer exists (=cosplayers no longer gather there) and hasn’t for several years now. Even back in 2008/2009, there weren’t any left.

But she also takes candid shots, as long as the image doesn’t harm the subject. It’s a lesson I try to keep in mind. Sometimes, I ask for permission. But some spontaneous scenes would lose all their appeal if I did... So, to be honest, I prefer to act discreetly, even if it nags at my conscience.

It stirs mine too, and I must admit it really bothers me to see photos—no matter how beautiful—of people, especially children/minors in close-up, posted in 99% of cases without their consent or their parents’ consent.