Well, vacation is over and the "blues" has set in. Yesterday I sat in my room wondering where the hell my two weeks off had gone. Guess that's just the way it goes. Today I sit at the Kencho.

But we did have a great time. Hokkaido was fun. And the relaxing week back here was fun.

We left for Hokkaido on the 24th in the cold and dark of 445am. Our bus was to leave from the Kofu train station at 530am and although it's normally only a 15 minute bike from my place, we had to somehow get a medium sized suitcase there with us. So I did what any American boy who can't call for a taxi in Japanese would do....I took two bungee cords and straped it to Amy's bike. Her bike has a basket on the back and I just laid the thing down on top of it and secured it on. Then I rode behind her to make sure the thing wasn't moving around. We rode slow and steady and it worked pretty well. Amy, while informing me her trials and tribulations during the ride, did quite well and we got ourselves and the suitcase to the Kencho, locked up the bikes and then walked over to the station. First mission accomplished.

The bus ride to Haneda airport in Tokyo was a nice quiet one--only 3 other people on the entire bus--but it ended up being longer than our flight to Hokkaido. It took us a little over two hours to get to the airport (Tokyo traffic) and the plane ride was an hour thirty-five. But I'll say this...After my trip to St. Kitts this last summer, nothing seems long. From the time we left the apartment to the time we grabbed our luggage in Sapporo was perhaps about eight hours and this includes everything: bike, bus, checking in, waiting for the flight, etc. Contrast that to the 50 hours it took to get me halfway around the world only to find that my suitcase wasn't there and you'll see my point. This time all went well; waits were fairly short and we arrived in time to still have half a day to screw around in our new location--not to mention that the suitcase was were it was supposed to be too.

As we approached Sapporo I noticed two things about Hokkaido: 1) it was pretty flat compared to Yamanashi, and 2) it was covered in snow. Of course, I couldn't see the entire island from my airplane but this was how it appeared to me. My brother told me that his mental image of Hokkaido was one of a rugged, mountainous region, and while parts of it do have mountains for the most part it seems fairly flat and what mountains are there are nothing like they are down here in Yamanashi. So don't think Sierra Nevadas when you think of Hokkaido. At least not where I travelled.

Here's that map again in case you are interested ( http://sunsite.tus.ac.jp/asia/japan/maps/Japan_pol96.jpg ). When I read travel narratives I like to follow the action on a map. Two of the four places we went, Sapporo and Hakodate, are on there but the other two are not. For your info Otaru is west of Sapporo by about 45 minutes. If you follow that train route, Otaru lies were the track runs along the coast and just past that very small outlet of land you might be able to see and just before that line turns south. The other town not on the map is Noboribetsu. It lies south of Sapporo where the track traces the coastline and runs southwest/northeast. There a tip down there where the coast then turns and runs northwest before curving around to go down to Hakodate. If you come up about one third of the way from that tip in a northeasterly direction from where the track seperates from the coast that is about where this town lies. I hope all this makes sense. If not, find a better map. I tried online and can't.

Anyway, after we landed and collected the suitcase we hopped a train into the city itself. This was actually quite easy as all the signs were printed in both Japanese and Romanji (or the characters you are reading here). The ride was about 30 minutes or so and it was snowing heavily with snow already stacked up on the ground and roofs. It didn't look too deep though, perhaps only about 20 to 30 centimeters (that's about 7 to 12 inches for you Americans, ha ha). We also had noticed at the airport on some digital sign that said the temperature was running at about 2 degrees C (about 35 degrees F, you Americans again--oh, why can't we get with the rest of the world and use the Centigrade scale and the Metric System? I just don't get it). And it did feel colder than what we were used to. When those train doors would open at the stops, a wave of cold hit us like a dog waking you up with his tongue on your face (ah, how I miss my Dobe).

In addition to the snow and the temperature, Amy and I were a bit more shocked to see that Hokkaido Japan didn't quite look like the mainland Japan we knew. It had a more "American" (for lack of a better way of putting it) feel. The land seemed a bit like the midwest and the roofs on the houses were quite different than in Yamanashi. Japanese roofs are actually quite beautiful down here. And I am speaking of the roofs on houses. They look artistic and "Japanese", whereas the roofs up there looked more functional and less "Japanese". They looked more like any old normal roof. Between this and the fact that we'd occasionally see a house out on a piece of land all alone with only trees and fields of snow around it we felt we were no longer in Japan. "This could be Ohio," I thought more than once. But then we'd run through a small town and see signs with Kanji and that comfortable illiteracy would hit us and we'd relax knowing that we wouldn't be expected to know anything about anything.

Which brings me to a point I'd like to tell you about. Down here in Yamanashi I think that Amy and I, in our everyday lives, are expected to know a few things. We are not exactly treated as tourists (although we aren't exactly treated as locals either). We go to the same restaurants and grocery stores and see the same people who know we don't speak Japanese but also know that they've seen us before and that we can get by ok. So I think that many of them while willing to help if we need it don't assume we need it. But up in Hokkaido I think the people assumed we were tourists and, of course, we were, but what I mean is tourists fresh from some other country, tourists that had just arrived in Japan and probably couldn't even understand a simple sumimasen (excuse me) or arigato (thanks) or biru kudasai (beer please). And in all honestly I let most of them think that way; for, it was nice to be treated as a guest (side note--I never did understand those commercials from some hotel or restaurant that would say "We treat you like family" and think it a good thing. In my family I was expected to help out with chores and when we disagreed about something we sometimes got angry and argued. That never happens when I'm treated like a guest). But anyway, I hope you see my point. Amy and I almost never mentioned to anyone that we were "from" Yamanashi. Hell, they might have expected us to carry our own luggage if we let them in on our secret.

But back to the train.

We got into Sapporo and although I had a packet of papers with the hotel name and a map of how to get there, I wanted a better map. Give me a good map and tell me where I am on that map and I can get you almost anywhere (at least in cities I can, I've never tried being dropped off in the middle of the desert and testing my abilities, although with the proper incentive and an air-conditioned all-terrain vehicle I'd certainly try) . Maps must be one of the all-time greatest human inventions. So we found the tourist information place and found the foreign language desk. I went up and talked to a kindly lady who gave me an English map of Sapporo and told me that the best way to get to my hotel was to take the subway one stop south, then change lines and go one stop west. So off we set to check in and dump the suitcase.

The Sapporo subway system was easy to use. In fact, I imagine that since I can work the Tokyo system, which is much much bigger with many more lines, I could probably work any system in this country. The Sapporo system has just three lines with maybe only ten to fifteen stops on each. So we made it to the neccessary stop, came up to street level, looked around, and spied our roughly 30-story hotel, The Prince Hotel. After maneuvering the suitcase through about two blocks of ice and snow we got to the front door where a nice Japanese guy in a hotel uniform took my suitcase and led us to the front desk so we could check in.

Now, I wasn't sure about how the check-in procedure at our four hotels would go or how difficult they would be as I wasn't too sure about English abilities (by contrast I was sure about my Japanese abilities, or lack thereof, and figured that checking in with a biru kudasai or Sumo ga suki desu ka, which means "do you like sumo?" would be a little strange). But my confidence increased greatly on that day I went to the travel agency to collect all the tickets and vouchers for this trip; for, Sakura (the agent) gave me the pack and told me that all I'd have to do is give the person at the front desk the proper voucher and they'd have all the information needed to check us in. And it did, indeed, turn out to be that easy. Sakura and I had also put them in order so that I wouldn't be confused; airline tickets to Hokkaido on top, Sapporo hotel next, three-day train passes next, Otaru hotel next, etc. I didn't have to think at all. It was great.

So we checked into our first hotel--the girl here actually did speak some English--and were shown to our room where we rejoiced that we had a place to stay for the night (all had worked out) and then headed out to find the brewery.

So back to the subway we went and about fifteen or twenty minutes later we surfaced at the nearest stop to the brewery. What was great here was that it had begun snowing while we were moling our way across the city. And I don't just mean lightly snowing I mean pouring the stuff. Lots and lots of big flakes that insulated the air and muffled the city noise and decreased visibility. Before I could really enjoy it though I had to figure out where I was, exactly, and which direction I was now facing. Most subway exits that I've encountered dump you out at intersections and figuring out which street goes in which direction can take a moment or two, especially in this country where I can't read and streets aren't always labeled. But luckliy Sapporo is a relatively new city and the streets are laid out in a grid-like fashion (very much UN-like Tokyo). And what makes it even more easy is that they label the blocks in a very user-friendly way. If you start in the middle intersection you are surrounded by blocks north 1 east 1, south 1 east 1, south 1 west 1, and north 1 west 1. So if you want to get from there to some place you know is located in the north 8 east 12 block you merely walk north 8 blocks and then east 12. No problem. This system was also handy for figuring out which direction I was facing when coming up from the subway.

So we walked about 15 minutes and directly to the brewery in the snow (pictures later). I have to admit that when I know I am going to a brewery where they brew beer that I have drunk in quantity I get kinda like a kid on the morning before his parents take him to Disneyland or some other amusement park--a bit giddy (I was like this when I visted the Sierra Nevada brewery in Chico, Ca too). Amy had to tell me to slow down a couple times cause I was walking too fast. So we finally got there and walked past the gate that gets you on to the grounds. First I noticed that there was a series of buildings but it quickly became obvious which was the main one. It was a nice looking building, reminiscent of a European style structure moreso than any Japanese buildings I've ever seen down here in Yamanashi, all red brick and quite large. The smoke stack had the familiar Sapporo red star and I knew I was in the right place.

So we found the entrance with the help of a few signs, that were also in English, by the way, and went in. The young gal behind the desk smiled and welcomed us and then said something in Japanese. I have gotten quite good at giving that look that says, "Pardon me, you cute young thing, but I don't speak your language. Did I mention you are cute?" So she pulled out a binder, flipped to some page and then turned the thing around so that Amy and I could read the instructions. They said something to the effect of, "Welcome to the Sapporo Brewery. The tour is free and starts on the fourth floor. Please take the elevator to the forth floor to begin your tour." The English was good and understandable and it went on to tell us about the tasting room and the restaurant. All very easy for us.

So we went up and began our tour. Old pictures, old bottles with old labels, dioramas of the buildings, explanations on the process of making beer, and the history of the Sapporo brewery were all on display. Most of it was in Japanese and we couldn't read a thing but I can't say I cared too much about all that. I already know how beer is made and the pictures and old bottles were labeled with years so I got enough out of it all. What I really wanted was the tasting room and the restaurant. But we walked around a bit first and took a picture or two and took it all in.

Eventually we made it down to the tasting room and got two beers and toasted our arrival in both Hokkaido and the brewery. I have to admit that there was a hint of disappointment (barely a hint) in that the brewery seems not to make a large variety of styles--not that I expected this, I was just hoping. When I went to the the Sierra Nevada brewery a few years ago I tried thirteen kinds of brew. Usually in stores around California I could only find the pale ale, stout, porter and sometimes a seasonal brew. Turns out that the brewery makes more but that they don't sell them outside of the local area (at least not at that time). So it was much to my surprise and delight to find that there was a whole new group of beers that I would be trying that day. But visting the Sapporo brewery is probably akin to going to the Coors plant--maybe, I don't actually know this as I've never been to the Coors plant. But Sapporo is one of those large breweries that makes a solid pilsner style lager and that's about it. So at the tasting room there were four kinds: the classic Sapporo, the regular Sapporo, Yebisu lager, and Yebisu stout (Yebisu is a subsidiary company of Sapporo from what I can tell). Although there were four kinds, three of them are essentially the same with only the stout being the different style.

But anyway, we had a glass each at 200 yen apiece and looked at the pictures on the wall. While we were drinking, one of the two cuties (I hope I don't sound sexist here but the Japanese always seem to find the young cute girls to work behind counters and desks when you need instructions, help, or in this case beer. Happens at the train stations' info desks, the coffee shops, the bank, everywhere) behind the bar came out and handed us two sacks that contained one large bottle of Champagne each. She said, "This is Christmas present for you," to which I thought, "Wait a sec, don't you brew beer here?" but just thanked her. They were giving them to everyone there, which wasn't that many people but enough to make the place feel somewhat alive. My other thought in getting the Champagne was that we now had to carry them back to the hotel and if we didn't drink them both tonight we'd have to carry them to Otaru, but hey, it's the thought that counts.

After our beers we found the restaurant where I would be getting what I'd been wanting for a long time: the Genghis Khan meal. I have no idea why it's named that so don't ask. All I know is that the Lonely Planet book says it's a feast and that it's all you can eat and drink for 100 minutes. When you mix the "all you can drink" part with the fact that we were at a brewery you might begin to understand my excitement. So we sat down and ordered two of these meals by pointing to the picture in the menu.

The Genghis Khan meal is a two part deal: the food and the beer. The beers you can order are all the same ones that we could get in the tasting room and the food consists of lamb, cabbage, onions, and a carrot or two. In the middle of the table is a convex heavy iron plate that sits on a burner. The edge of the plate has lips so that any juices won't spill over onto the table. When you finish ordering the waitress turns on the flame and disappears to get the goods--two platters, one with the meat, the other with the veggies. She then starts cooking for you; first some fat to grease up the plate and then a few veggies around the eges with the meat going on top.

So she cooked for about five minutes demonstrating how it all worked and then left it to us. I had a good time greasing up the iron before laying down the meat and veggies and we both enjoyed two and a half platters of meat and two of the veggies. Amy even managed to drink a few beers rather than her normal sipping one or drinks all evening. I lost count on my own intake. All in all it was a great feast and I will always remember my Xmas eve meal of 2004.

After we glutted our stomachs with food and saturated our blood with beer we paid and walked out into the still snowing evening. We did the obligatory run through the gift shop (always the true Americans) and then it was a stumble, mostly for Amy, back to the subway and a ride to our hotel.

But the night was still young and after we dropped off the Champagne we headed out to find the Xmas lights. I had heard about these and had seen a couple pictures in various brochures and figured it might be worth a stroll. I wasn't sure where the lights would be so on the way out of the hotel I stopped by the front desk and pointed to one of the pictures in a brouchure and asked where it was. The lady then indicated on my map where it was--merely a few blocks away--and we set off.

Once there we walked along the edge of the block wide and perhaps 5 blocks long park and looked at the lights, watched children playing in the snow, and made our way towards the Sapporo TV Tower (which looks a hell of a lot like the Tokyo Tower, which looks a hell of a lot like the Eiffel Tower, which looks a hell of a lot like a large skeleton of a monster depending on your vantage point and how much you've had to drink). Once there we thought about going up in the tower but then thought better of it considering that our room was on the 19th floor of our hotel and how much better would the view actually be? Probably not worth the fifteen or so dollars it would have cost us to get up there. Besides, we both have been up in the Tokyo tower, not to mention that I've also been up in the Eiffel Tower, the CN Tower, the Washington Monument, the St. Louis Arch, the Seattle Space Needle, and I used to climb trees all the time when I was a boy.

So we settled for a glass of water (for the girl) and a beer (for me) under the tower and then slowly made our way back to the hotel where we decided that perhaps we weren't quite high enough (double meaning here, folks, pay attention) just yet and had another drink on the top floor of our hotel overlooking the park we had just walked through. The bar was quite nice and fancy and I felt like I was in some Bond flick and might have to make a quick jump out the window to get away from some group of henchmen where I would luckily fall into a truck bed full of futons and simply brush myself off and catch the next subway out of there. Or maybe that was just the martini I was drinking.

We never did make it to the Champagne.

I will write about the rest of my trip at a later date. Kencho time is about done for the day.