So I made the decision to stay here in Tokyo. Thick and thin, this is what I set out to do many years ago. Sure I have spend a whole week going through the various scenarios (could have done with my think tank!) but returning to the UK always points to utter failure of everything I have built here. I would be living on borrowed accommodation and in the ass-end of a country I don’t particularly get on with. Mostly definitely broke and losing my mind.

I’d happily exchange that for a lifetime of slight tremors and my now two year old company and zany girl. Next week I apply for permanent residency in Japan.

For the family they are re-united in our memories.

I’ll always remember the wonderful lunches my gran made, and thank her from the bottom of my heart for putting up with me as a teenager.

Our first hotel was nice and roomy, not too expensive. We decided to relocate some days later to a cheaper place, which wasn’t such a good idea as the second place looked like various private detective novels had been penned in the dark nicotine stained rooms.

Lots of my friends and colleagues came to Osaka this week, we were able to meet up and have post-apocalyptic beers.

Strangely the nuclear threat really didn’t phase me. I’ve already had one dose from europe and know that the potential for Fukushima (fuu-coo-she-ma) to affect Tokyo is basically technically not possible. We learned that 7 guys died fixing the plant so far and feel humbled by our meaningless gripes and groans. Those are some of the bravest people on Earth.

Sitting in the office was just like any other day, fired up my Mac and started trawling through Xcode.

2:30pm. At first, the shakes to the office here in Tokyo were slight, but they escalated in intensity. Everyone in my office uses headphones to enter the “zone” as it were. Hardly a noisy office but we all rent desks independently from one another so no radio or other music system is in effect.
Heads started popping up from behind partitions like meerkats inspecting the safety outside their home. Eyes met. We all knew this wasn’t your average earthquake and got the hell out of there. Mercifully we are only on the 3rd floor. (US system in Japan, literally 3)

Our street was packed with office workers who had the same idea. We all stood in silence as the quake started to escalate to it’s epiphany. Screams and shocked cries replaced the silence as the street turned to Jelly.

Near my office is a hair dressers on the 2nd floor. Two old ladies were getting their hair curled. Seemingly uninterested in this once in a thousand year event. Curled hair is far more important in this part of Tokyo.

As the quake hit, a postman on a motorbike came up the office and delivered the post. He went about it with routine glamour.

After what seemed like a whole packet of cigarettes and several liters of canned coffee I returned to the office, I had a quick chance to change my facebook status but phones were out. Below is a photo of what we found. A decision from the building manager was made to lock the place up and leave. Wave after wave of aftershocks told us this was a good idea. At this point, no one know the full extent of the quake and what it might bring or when it might end.

I live within half an hour or so walking distance of my office so I decided to go home and check on my apartment. Here’s a photo of what I found inside.

So as the quakes kept coming, Twitter and Facebook evolved from pointless time wasting activities to my first life line. Whats happened? Where did it happen? Everything was found out from the network of friends and colleagues in Tokyo. Slowly it dawned on us that this event was catastrophic in North East Japan. Just how much devastation the tsunami wreaked was yet to be found out, reports of a 10m high wave coming 2km inland seemed unreal at first, thats taller than your house. Mercilessly the reports were true.

All I could do was create a path amongst the debris of my apartment, so that when I return with enough whiskey to take out a horse, I might not cause more damage to my already ruined bubble of existence.
Not a single building collapsed.

Ron passed away peacefully in his sleep today and will be dearly missed.

When I was a child we visited him and my grandmother every weekend. He was very good with us and tought me his passion, Archery. Before he was too old he made me an American Longbow.

Ron was an engineer for Rolls Royce for most of his working life. Working primarily on the 1st generation of jet propulsion engines, continuing the work of Frank Whittle. When visiting him we would always draw some different types of engines and explain to me how they worked. His work was awarded by the Prince of Wales but even this accolade couldn’t help him figure out how to re-wind DVDs. A classic engineer of the 50′s and 60′s.

His career led to the refinement of blast forming metals, numerous engine patents and other marvels. His head was full of invention, a busy mind leads to a long life and thats what Ron was gifted with.

R.I.P. Ronald Dickinson. My Grandfather.

Working out fine so far.

So I found a flaw in the Inn. Looks amazing inside and out. But theres an undercurrent of something, suspicious, about the place. Only when aimlessly walking down a random corridor looking for an open private “onsen” (hot spring room) did I spy a janitors secret door open! Peering inside, I realised this place is no more authentic than Disney Land is real. The janitors room was purely made of concrete, in stark contrast to the wooden panels and sliding bamboo doors that are shown outwardly. He had a TV, a little metal chair with a brightly coloured kitch cushion to take off the strain.

The spell was broken!

My basic summation would then be that this place is nothing more than an expensive love hotel, with private baths for shagging couples, done up like something from the fictional past like a theme park for adults. Unfortunately, this is the story for much of Japan. Beneath the beautiful Traditional veneer is always a stark prefab concrete grey staring back at you. The Matrix behind the virtual world.

My unfortunate disclaimer to this tale is that I was stricken with food poisoning at the time of passage, it was a hindrance to the trip, and impeded the experience in general, but I was determined to see it through.

Being lazy, and not so cheap, I took the bullet train from Tokyo to Nagano. It’s a short journey of little more than a cup of tea and a read of the news. Arriving in Nagano one would expect something spectacular, it being the City that hosted the Winter Olympics after all. In reality it was like stepping into the 1980’s, looked like no effort had been made to modernise for the event (‘98). This could be seen as a good thing I guess.
Took a wonder up to a local Temple before heading out to the hot springs (which are actually a good hours journey on the train from Nagano it’s self). As I imagined there was no one around and those that were around were old men talking to them selves out loud. Saw a couple of tourists, who looked similarly baffled that Nagano is nothing like one would imagine it to be.

Snow started to gently fall. Good news, this is after all why I came here.

Brief stop in a cafe from yesteryear and onto the next train. Descending into the underground terminus was like stepping through some kind of time portal into the 60’s. (yes, further back in time than the rest of Nagano!)—the first thing you notice is that Mushrooms are for sale everywhere—this place is like super mario land! After buying a ticket and listening to the inane music that played before the train left, my rickety ride to the mountains was off!

Two more trains and a winding journey in a courtesy bus from the Inn, I was safe in my preconceived ideas of the mad building that inspired one of the greatest animator / story tellers of all time. It lived up to the hype. The above photo headlining this entry is my own shot. Rabbits would have difficulty navigating this warren of stairs, sliding doors, secret passages and curious hidden gardens—lavished with wonderful first powdering of snow.

Jumped in a few hot springs, relaxed throughly, banged the wall of my noisy neighbors and sleep ensued.