Life in the fast lane
Hello from day 3 in Japan!
After a day of rest and relaxation yesterday, Lucinda has let me do the honours with today's adventures.
This morning, we checked out of our Nagoya hotel early and headed off into the Japanese countryside on a bunch of different trains to make a special pilgrimage to a place I've been dreaming about, ever since I was an annoying little curly-haired boy who made car noises in his bedroom.
Okay maybe it's just the hair that's changed.
I wondered in the run up to this trip whether this journey was going to be too much hassle, but it actually provided a nice glimpse into rural Japan as we watched the farm land rolling past the window, with traditional houses, locals fishing, kids practising baseball and mothers holding their children up to wave at the train as it passed by.
At Yokkaichi we had half an hour to wait before the next train, so with the sun shining, we walked past the old ladies selling fish stew at the station and met the local mascot, Konyudo-Kun.
He has googly eyes and a floppy tongue, I think we might be brothers.
From there, we boarded a tiny, dinky one-carriage train for our next stop: the historic Suzuka motor racing circuit.
When I was 8 years old, I remember waking up at 5am with my mum to watch Damon Hill beat arch rival Michael Schumacher to win the 1994 Japanese Grand Prix in treacherous monsoon conditions, with Nigel Mansell holding off the marauding Frenchman Jean Alesi further down the field.
My uncle Frank, bad influence that he was, got my brother Sam and I into computer games at a young age. The same track featured heavily in our gaming sessions on Geoff Crammond's Grand Prix 2, as his two little munchkin nephews struggled to get to grips with the unforgiving pixellated corners.
Ever since then, it's been one of my favourite races on the Formula 1 calendar.
25 years on, and here I was.
Around the station we could see nods to the area's illustrious racing history: from the signs, to the nearby factories and garages, to the steps painted like the kerbs on a grand prix circuit.
Google Maps helpfully guided us along a path through a nearby field, which led us past ramshackle houses, up a hill and out to the edge of the 3.6 mile track, as the iconic Suzuka ferris wheel began to appear between the trees.
When we arrived at the front entrance, I video called Sam back home in the UK. After filming the noise, the ferris wheel, the entrance and finally the sign, he eventually guessed where we were, and advised me to go streaking down the home straight stark bollock naked.
Not wanting to attract the attention of the Japanese police, we wandered fully-clothed around the nearby theme park which is aimed pretty squarely at kids, but had a few cool gift shops and galleries with historic F1 memorabilia.
Having booked onto the circuit tour, we eventually found the starting point and met a tour guide who spoke almost no English. She led us and a young Japanese family onto a bus which drove around to the paddock area behind the pit lane, where we were greeted by our own personal "interpreter", who spoke fluent English having lived in London and Paris.
As you can probably tell I was already a bit excited about the tour to begin with, but it was incredible.
Before we'd even had a chance to take it all in, we were whisked into the pit garage, past a bunch of mechanics, to meet a motorcycle racer called Takashi Kataoka who also runs his own team and manages a Ducati showroom in Suzuka.
Not only that, but he's FIFTY EIGHT YEARS OLD.
This legend of a man chatted to us for a while (via the interpreter) about racing, showed us his safety equipment and explained how it worked, and even let us sit on the bike itself.
The Suzuka Sunday Road Race was taking place at the time right outside the pits. We got a taste of the action when a bike came flying into the garage next door, with its rider shouting and gesturing frantically to his team about some kind of mechanical issue.
After all that excitement, we were lucky enough to be invited into the race control room, which is normally restricted to officials from the governing bodies of motorsport. The scrutineering officer took time away from watching the race unfold to show us some rule books, which were about 3 metres thick and filled with car specifications and regulations.
Then, we made our way into the media room, before stepping out onto the winners' podium just in time to see the first few finishers crossing the line with the chequered flag waving.
We could see all the way down to the first corner, where Ayrton Senna famously crashed into Alain Prost to win the 1990 world championship.
Our feet were aching, so the train journey on to Osaka via Nagoya was a welcome break from all the walking around, although it also felt like we'd been on about fifty trains.
We're spending two nights in Osaka which is the foodie capital of Japan, as you can imagine it's a place we were both really looking forward to sampling.
After checking into our tiny apartment, which is located down a back alley and has its own cooker and washing machine, we made the journey by train (but mostly by foot) to Dotonbori, which is known for its bright lights, party atmosphere and street food.
It delivered on all three promises!
First, Lucinda was greeted by a drunk man waving at her, who eventually shook her hand, took her picture and staggered off into the night.
Then, we tried takoyaki (aka deep-fried octopus balls) with four different seasonings. Fair to say it was very different from our usual grub, but once it had cooled down below the temperature of molten lava it was delicious.
We also picked up a beef and potato croquette (mostly potato) and two different kinds of taiyaki (a sweet fish-shaped pancake) - one with custard, one with sweet potato.
To round off the feast, we each had a bowl of pork tonkotsu ramen (noodle soup) and an ice cold glass of Asahi beer, before ticking off the obligatory tourist photos with the famous Glico "Marathon Man" and Asahi "Super Dry" signs along the Dotonbori canal.
Unfortunately Stranraer couldn't muster up a result to make it a perfect day but we're hoping to have a lot more fun and food in Osaka tomorrow!
「いただきます」
George
After a day of rest and relaxation yesterday, Lucinda has let me do the honours with today's adventures.
This morning, we checked out of our Nagoya hotel early and headed off into the Japanese countryside on a bunch of different trains to make a special pilgrimage to a place I've been dreaming about, ever since I was an annoying little curly-haired boy who made car noises in his bedroom.
Okay maybe it's just the hair that's changed.
I wondered in the run up to this trip whether this journey was going to be too much hassle, but it actually provided a nice glimpse into rural Japan as we watched the farm land rolling past the window, with traditional houses, locals fishing, kids practising baseball and mothers holding their children up to wave at the train as it passed by.
At Yokkaichi we had half an hour to wait before the next train, so with the sun shining, we walked past the old ladies selling fish stew at the station and met the local mascot, Konyudo-Kun.
He has googly eyes and a floppy tongue, I think we might be brothers.
From there, we boarded a tiny, dinky one-carriage train for our next stop: the historic Suzuka motor racing circuit.
When I was 8 years old, I remember waking up at 5am with my mum to watch Damon Hill beat arch rival Michael Schumacher to win the 1994 Japanese Grand Prix in treacherous monsoon conditions, with Nigel Mansell holding off the marauding Frenchman Jean Alesi further down the field.
My uncle Frank, bad influence that he was, got my brother Sam and I into computer games at a young age. The same track featured heavily in our gaming sessions on Geoff Crammond's Grand Prix 2, as his two little munchkin nephews struggled to get to grips with the unforgiving pixellated corners.
Ever since then, it's been one of my favourite races on the Formula 1 calendar.
25 years on, and here I was.
Around the station we could see nods to the area's illustrious racing history: from the signs, to the nearby factories and garages, to the steps painted like the kerbs on a grand prix circuit.
Google Maps helpfully guided us along a path through a nearby field, which led us past ramshackle houses, up a hill and out to the edge of the 3.6 mile track, as the iconic Suzuka ferris wheel began to appear between the trees.
When we arrived at the front entrance, I video called Sam back home in the UK. After filming the noise, the ferris wheel, the entrance and finally the sign, he eventually guessed where we were, and advised me to go streaking down the home straight stark bollock naked.
Not wanting to attract the attention of the Japanese police, we wandered fully-clothed around the nearby theme park which is aimed pretty squarely at kids, but had a few cool gift shops and galleries with historic F1 memorabilia.
Having booked onto the circuit tour, we eventually found the starting point and met a tour guide who spoke almost no English. She led us and a young Japanese family onto a bus which drove around to the paddock area behind the pit lane, where we were greeted by our own personal "interpreter", who spoke fluent English having lived in London and Paris.
As you can probably tell I was already a bit excited about the tour to begin with, but it was incredible.
Before we'd even had a chance to take it all in, we were whisked into the pit garage, past a bunch of mechanics, to meet a motorcycle racer called Takashi Kataoka who also runs his own team and manages a Ducati showroom in Suzuka.
Not only that, but he's FIFTY EIGHT YEARS OLD.
This legend of a man chatted to us for a while (via the interpreter) about racing, showed us his safety equipment and explained how it worked, and even let us sit on the bike itself.
The Suzuka Sunday Road Race was taking place at the time right outside the pits. We got a taste of the action when a bike came flying into the garage next door, with its rider shouting and gesturing frantically to his team about some kind of mechanical issue.
After all that excitement, we were lucky enough to be invited into the race control room, which is normally restricted to officials from the governing bodies of motorsport. The scrutineering officer took time away from watching the race unfold to show us some rule books, which were about 3 metres thick and filled with car specifications and regulations.
Then, we made our way into the media room, before stepping out onto the winners' podium just in time to see the first few finishers crossing the line with the chequered flag waving.
We could see all the way down to the first corner, where Ayrton Senna famously crashed into Alain Prost to win the 1990 world championship.
Our feet were aching, so the train journey on to Osaka via Nagoya was a welcome break from all the walking around, although it also felt like we'd been on about fifty trains.
We're spending two nights in Osaka which is the foodie capital of Japan, as you can imagine it's a place we were both really looking forward to sampling.
After checking into our tiny apartment, which is located down a back alley and has its own cooker and washing machine, we made the journey by train (but mostly by foot) to Dotonbori, which is known for its bright lights, party atmosphere and street food.
It delivered on all three promises!
First, Lucinda was greeted by a drunk man waving at her, who eventually shook her hand, took her picture and staggered off into the night.
Then, we tried takoyaki (aka deep-fried octopus balls) with four different seasonings. Fair to say it was very different from our usual grub, but once it had cooled down below the temperature of molten lava it was delicious.
We also picked up a beef and potato croquette (mostly potato) and two different kinds of taiyaki (a sweet fish-shaped pancake) - one with custard, one with sweet potato.
To round off the feast, we each had a bowl of pork tonkotsu ramen (noodle soup) and an ice cold glass of Asahi beer, before ticking off the obligatory tourist photos with the famous Glico "Marathon Man" and Asahi "Super Dry" signs along the Dotonbori canal.
Unfortunately Stranraer couldn't muster up a result to make it a perfect day but we're hoping to have a lot more fun and food in Osaka tomorrow!
「いただきます」
George
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