Photographs from a small group of islands
The incredibly varied victims of the current economic crisis appears to show that nobody is safe from its sickening sway, and, as if to prove the point, it would seem that even Satan has been subjected to setbacks; the demonic one suffering the considerable discomfort of having to downsize to a second-hand Subaru.
Plus, to add insult to presumably infinite injury, he even had to pick purple rather than his more routine, red.
For Tokyoites lucky enough to have a garden to tend, the unfathomable need to feature a gnome isn’t necessarily unusual, although the fat little fellas aren’t nearly as multitudinous as they are in middle England.
Masks on the other hand are considerably more common,
along with the rather more mournful mien of a mannequin.
Maybe.
Considering the current economic climate, a trip to Sports World a week or so ago was particularly apt.
Conceived during the bubble with the bank presumably backing the project with a ludicrously large loan, this sprawling Sports Resort Hotel at the top of the Izu Peninsula was opened in 1988, only a year before prosperity went pop. And, ten years later, after an impossibly optimistic opening,
the business too went bang.
A decade that, due to the site’s sumptuousness and size, must have been a stressful one to say the least, with the technology of the day,
no doubt making more noise than the till.
And even the acquisition of less archaic computers,
along with confidence boosting cups,
couldn’t have made the conferences any more comfortable.
This armchair on the other hand may have offered at least some sort of a rest bite,
but in the end, with nothing saved for a rainy day except company emblazoned umbrellas,
the staff were left with little option but to leave,
after perhaps loitering for a little while in the bar,
and having one last blow out to add to the already bulging bill.
In Part 2, some the the resort’s fast-fading indoor features are featured, including rooms, a pool and the gym. Plus a few pictures of the place blooming in its brief, bubble-era buoyancy. And in Part 3 there are images of Sports World’s huge outdoor facilities, with more ‘now and then’ pictures, including some of the staff.
In addition, for more haikyo, there’s always an abandoned mining town to have a meander through, or even a crumbling cable car for more loan-based lunacy.
There’s no denying that the societal pressure Japan puts on its people can be suffocating — some would say even insufferable. And that’s arguably nothing compared to the almost systematic overwork and wearing down of the workforce. Yet as far as getting lairy and lagered-up is concerned, the country can be almost lovingly lenient.
Meaning that whereas Britain for example is always banging on about binge-drinking and being disciplined, in Tokyo — or at least on its metro — manners are much more important. So, instead of trying to persuade people to make do with moderation,
they are merely petitioned to get plastered in private rather than in public.
For those on a budget looking to get bevvied on a beer-like beverage, then the long-established but pleasant on the pocket (although not necessarily the palate) happoshu is an abundantly available brew. An option that varies in taste from the really not that bad, to the really rather awful.
However, if it’s purely to get routed rather than relax, then Kirin’s new-ish Strong Seven is undoubtedly the way to go.
A tonic that, presumably due to its much touted tendency to help one forget, isn’t a titan in the taste department. But, as a beer that’s not actually a beer, and definitely doesn’t taste like a decent beer, it does pack a big old beer-like punch which, after all, is its purpose.
A sensatoinal seven perxent pumch at that, Lukily tho I can. Take my drink whatevr some moght say. specially that bstat wha’s he called. You no, that talll fella from the booozr? .
But yeh, ots strong and np fukinf mistak, jist a good jpb I can take my drimk.
Likr i said,