This year marks the 10-year anniversary of meeting my wife. We’ve always regarded this date as the most important date instead of the actual wedding. Part of the reason is that we went in all-in on the relationship astonishingly quickly, so much so that everything else become moot. We spent the day on a stay-cation in downtown Toronto, and it was nice to experience the city like a tourist.

I also went through a phase of packing bento lunches for a while. Even though I made the food in bulk on the weekend instead of every day like a real housewife, it was still quite a lot of work to prepare multiple dishes, and then also make dinner. I enjoyed the challenge nonetheless.

Oh, I finally took a “proper” photo of the MG Alex 2.0, but I quickly realized how little I want to touch this thing. The amount of work I did on the decals just makes the thought of damaging this and scuffing the coating unbearable. I think this is a cool pose though, so I’m perfectly content just to leave it the way it is.

Finally, as spring finally poked its head out at the end of April, we went to see the Cherry Blossoms at High Park again. Nothing too different this time around, though I have concluded that cherry blossoms look a lot better if there is something dark in the background for contrast. 

I will however comment on the practice of pink-ifying cherry blossoms in photography in general. These flowers are pink in the public imagination, even though the most common varieties are definitely mostly white. However, as if under sharing a mission to warp reality itself, people go out of their ways to crank the tint and saturation to achieve a stronger pink in these flowers. I have definitely been guilty of this in the past, but in my defense I blame anime.

That’s all I got this time. The weather has been pretty glorious as of late finally, so here’s hoping for a fruitful photo season in 2023!

Our stop in Yokohama began with a heavy downpour at first, and it was bad enough to seriously consider postponing the visit. Thankfully, when we arrived at the Gundam Factory Yokohama, the clouds gave way just in time for some picture-perfect blue skies. This is the site of the moving life-size Gundam statue, which runs a performance routine every half-hour. The statue is secured to its service hanger with a large robust clamp, which also enabled the statue’s movements. 

Although this gundam’s movements were a lot slower than depictions in anime, its immense size made each movement instantly impressive. This was also helped by the smoke effects and the sound effects that complimented the performance.

Speaking of the performance: we stuck around for two of them, and each one was different. There was a story thread connecting them; from what my limited Japanese could piece together, this gundam is not the original RX-78-2, but rather a reconstruction. The first routine depicted the test pilot going through an activation sequence. The second routine depicted the test pilot communicating with the onboard AI of the gundam, which is somehow imprinted with the consciousness of Amuro Ray (the protagonist of the original Mobile Suit Gundam). The test pilot even asked this AI Amuro why he sacrificed himself at the Char’s Counterattack, when he managed to push Axis off of a collision course with Earth.

Besides the statue itself, there’s also an exhibition documenting the creation and inner workings of the statue, a themed restaurant, and a large gift shop. It’s a real shame that this attraction is currently slated to shut down at the end of March 2023, because the pandemic border restrictions severely limited the opportunity for foreign visitors to take in this gem.

We swung by the very tourist-orientated Chinatown, which is decorated to the gills with the trapping of Japan’s big neighbour. I especially liked the strange Japanese takes on Chinese food, like ebi chili, a stir-fried prawns dish smothered with a mildly spicy ketchup-based sauce, and the char siu melon bread, a mash-up of sweet and savory that I’m pretty sure did not come from the mainland.

One of the great things about Yokohama is how densely packed the attractions are on its waterfront. In addition to the aforementioned Chinatown and Gundam Factory, the waterfront is also home to Yokohama Cosmoworld, an aging urban theme park with a nostalgic appeal. The arcade inside has seen better days, but it also has some truly bizarre retro games that you wouldn’t find at a more up-to-date arcade. The colossal Ferris wheel there offers some great views of the bay, including the Yokohama Landmark Tower, the beefy skyscraper that was once Japan’s tallest building (now soon to be demoted to the third tallest).

Right across the street from Cosmoworld is the Cup Noodle Museum, which is a one-half blatant self brand-promotion, and one-half surprisingly inspirational rags-to-riches story of a man inventing instant noodles in a shack, then figuring out how to put it in a cup (there’s more to it than that, I assure you). We even made our own Cup Noodle with hand-drawn pictures on the cup, along with soup and toppings of our choosing. I had put this on the itinerary as a time-filler, but it ended up being a very memorable experience.

Hakone

Our luck with weather finally ran out on our visit to the onsen resort town of Hakone, because the forecast had called for rain for most of the day there. We were able to squeeze in a dip in the open-air onsen at Hakone Yuryo and a visit to the Hakone Open-Air Museum before the weather soured. The rain and winds were a lot worse than I had anticipate for, which posed a big logistical problem. 

To give you the simplified overview of the geography in Hakone: there is an active volcano (more on this later) in the centre of the region. To the east lies the train station, and to the west is our hotel. The simplest and most scenic way to get to our hotel is via a ropeway that goes right over the volcanic region, but this ropeway was shut down due to high winds. I did not prepare a backup plan in case the ropeway got suspended, and Google maps was not very helpful in navigating the local bus routes. Eventually we found a tourist information office and were guided to a bus route that goes around the volcano, but all in all it was about two hours of being lost, waiting, and being rained on. Morale was low, to put it mildly.

But the beauty of an onsen resort is that all one really needs to have a good time is a good place to stay, and the hotel Hanaori really saved the day. Despite being on the budget side of the spectrum, our experience there was overwhelmingly positive. Both the private and public onsens are clean and spacious, with the latter available to book for only 3000 yen. Dinner and breakfast were buffet style, which wasn’t as fancy as the full-course kaiseki in our previous ryokan experiences, but the quality of the food left nothing wanting. It was a bit of a shame that the stormy weather got in the way of what would’ve been a brilliant view of Lake Ashi, but Hanaori did a miraculous job on reversing the sour mood, and by the time we checked out the next morning we were fully recharged and ready to go.

The weather had improved significantly by this time, so we could take the ropeway back toward the train station. We made a pit stop in Owakudani, the area around the volcanic crater left behind by an eruption of Mt. Hakone 3000 years ago. Volcanic activity is still simmering here in quite a literal way — steaming hot springs constantly spew out odours of sulfur, making the entire area smell like farts. A popular tourist treat here are eggs boiled in those sulfuric hot springs, which are said to prolong one’s life by seven years. They both taste and look like ordinary hard boiled eggs on the inside, but the black colour and swirling patterns of the shells make them look like spawns of the devil.

Tokyo

Even though we have spent a significant amount of time in Tokyo on both of our previous trips, we still allocated five whole days to venture around, this time with a more relaxed pace to shop and eat. In reality, even those five were jam packed, because there’s so just much to see and do. Even on the morning of the day we were flying back, we were running up and down Kappabashi to pick up some kitchen tools that we didn’t have to grab earlier. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of visiting Tokyo, even if it’s my tenth time.

Of course, we did more than just shop and eat all day in Tokyo. We went on a guided bar-hopping tour in Shinjuku organized by Magical Tour, which took us through the colourful red-light district of Kabukicho. There were three groups of guests including us, and all three groups had been to Japan before. Not only that, given the timing of the visit soon after Japan’s re-opening, it was immediately obvious that this these were some hardened weebs. Our tour guide Sho was a consummate professional, but some of the trivia he tossed out about Japan fell flat on this group that clearly had done a little too much homework during the pandemic. At times the conversion got really out of topic, including a lengthy tangent about the differences between American and European health care systems. which was a strange subject to discuss across the world.

Still, it was a very enjoyable experience. Even though Japan is infamously safe, we were definitely in the heart of the red light district. It is well-known for some sketchy bar scams where unwitting guests would be pulled into a bar and be charged an exorbitant seating fee, and I have played too many Yakuza games to not be at least a little worried. Oh, and we definitely saw an escort girl showing off her goods on the street. This is why a guided tour was the perfect solution. The stops consisted of a cozy yakitori izakaya, a retro Showa-era themed bar, and a standing sake bar serving up fancy hooch. It was a great night of chatting with the tour guides and other guests (even if the conversations got sidetracked at times), and it was a much-appreciated change of pace.

There was also teamLab Planets, another art exhibition on display in Odaiba. Like the Borderless exhibit which came before it, this is another projection-heavy sensory overload extravaganza. There’s a room with a soft & jiggly floor which requires visitors to crawl through on all fours. There’s another room filled with knee-deep water, shimmering with projections of colourful fish on the surface. There’s even an upside-down garden with hundreds of live flowers dangling from the rooftops. I’m still not completely sold on the artist merit of all this, but it was a jungle gym for grown-ups where they can frolic around like children, which is always a lot of fun.

The last attraction of note to mention was Shibuya Sky. This is the open-air observation deck on top of Shibuya Scramble Square, the new confusingly-named skyscraper in the area adjacent to the the crossing itself. This observation spans the entire top floor and roof top, so there’s a huge area to wander around.

While we’ve been to other high observation decks in Tokyo, the open-air nature of this one really sets it apart. From the wind on my face to the clear views without the obstruction of glass, it was just a completely different experience. One can get a very clear view of the scramble crossing, the newly built Miyashita park, as well as the rest of Tokyo’s most active urban centres from here. During the day, even Mt. Fuji would be visible in clear weather. It was easily worth the 2000 yen admission price.

Final Thoughts

As I had mentioned previously, anti-covid measures were still very much a part of everyday life in November 2022. My personal feelings towards the practice really went through an evolution over the course of the two weeks.

Prior to landing in Japan, I considered masking a minor inconvenience, one I’m glad to put up with for the sake of the trip. Having contracted covid at least twice during the mask-wearing era in Canada, I was skeptical of its efficacy, but I figured that following the local customs would be the right thing to do.

Once we were actually there, frustrations quickly began to mount. Be it dragging around luggage or hiking across cities, travelling is often a strenuous activity, and the mask became a snowballing discomfort that made the face moist, the breaths heavier, and the glasses foggy. This was slightly alleviated by the discovery of some better disposable masks that minimize contact with the mouth, but it was still uncomfortable.

Many western visitors forgoed mask-wearing altogether, which made them stick out like sore thumbs. As the days went on, the feeling of wanting to conform to the local norms morphed into an expectation of shared suffering — it sounds overly dramatic, but I expected other people to perform the same task as I was, because they had to suffer as I did. When I saw people not wearing masks, I would think “what made you so fucking special?” Protection from covid itself became a distant afterthought.

However, my feelings about it changed yet again once confronted by the sheer ocean of humanity in Tokyo. When I saw its shifting tides flow through the streets and underground stations, I had to concede that even a small reduction of transmission from mask-wearing would do a lot of good for public health as a whole. The belief was reinforced when I returned to North America, where the cacophony of flu and covid could be heard just about everywhere. Pharmacies were running out of cold and fever medicine, and hospitals were struggling to deal with an influx of sick children. I found myself wishing the mask-wearing habit returned this time of year, and I even reached for the ol’ face-diaper a few times.

However, I still think the clear plastic barriers are beyond silly. Over the course of the trip I came across some truly confounding examples, like the plastic sheet dividing two halves of the same Taiko no Tatsujin arcade machine, as well as an irremovable barrier dividing the two halves of the same table in a crowded restaurant. It just seemed like long-outdated safety theatre that had no reason to exist in the year 2022, yet much like mask-wearing, there appeared to be no end in sight.

Covid stuff aside, this visit has made me appreciate the joy of just wandering without being under the gun to check off a list of sightseeing spots. Despite all of the splendors of Kyoto, I vividly remember feeling a sense of relief about not finally not having to be anywhere specific on the Sunday after we arrived in Tokyo. 

Now that we’ve experienced Japan in both the cherry blossom season and the autumn foliage season, I wouldn’t mind cutting back further on the sightseeing and indulging in more loosely-aimed wandering. It’s not that I think we’ve seen everything worth seeing in the country, but it has become pretty clear that we’ll be coming back pretty regularly in the future. Given that assumption, I would love to turn off Google Maps for a few hours at a time and just goof around more.

Being among the first wave of foreign tourists to crash onto its shores, facets of covid-era life were definitely still present. Masks use was nearly ubiquitous among the locals, and the sight of clear plastic barriers were everywhere. I’ll touch on this subject in the next post about the trip, but needless to say, the circumstances were rather unique, and it was during these unusual times when we embarked on our third trip to Japan. Here are some highlights and thoughts about our time there.

Nara

We had been to Nara before in 2019, but the visit was cut short due to poor weather. All we did was see a few deer and visit Todai-ji before calling it quits. Thankfully, the weather was much more cooperative, so we ventured further into the Nara Park area, where the attractions are concentrated.

Nestled in the primordial forest to the east side of the park is Kasuga-taisha, an ancient shinto shrine dating back to the eighth century. Stone lanterns line the paths here. The thick green moss on top of the lanterns, along with the old growth forest that separate the shrine from the outside world, created an aura of mystique. There’s a similar appeal here compared to the famous Fushimi Inari-taisha of Kyoto, but I found this much more enjoyable because the scenery is less repetitive here. Not being a never-ending uphill hike also helped!

The deer at the park were as belligerent as I remembered. It is my firm belief that these deer not only smell food, but also the fear of humans, because they will beeline for the tourists as soon as they see a bag of deer crackers exchange hands, at which point they will not take no for an answer. They will bow their heads about three times before their patience is exhausted, at which point the gloves come off, and they will use their teeth on human legs as a method of persuasion. Those who are more used to the deer can walk through the park with deer food in tow without being assaulted, and same goes for the deer cracker vendors, with whom the deer must have some unspoken understanding.

The nearby shopping streets yielded some stand-out goodies. By complete coincidence, we stumbled upon Nakatanidou, a famous mochi shop specializing in freshly pounded yomogi mochi. Even if the name doesn’t ring a bell, you’ve most likely seen the videos of its lighting-fast mochi-pounding performance on the internet before. We’ve had mochi snacks many times, including other instances on this trip, but the soft texture and warmth of these put these in a league of its own.

Also delicious was the kakinoha-zushi, a Nara specialty variant of sushi. The rice and fish are seasoned with extra salt and vinegar, and each piece is wrapped with a persimmon leaf (which possesses antibacterial properties). This helps to keep the snack fresh without refrigeration for up to 24 hours. We put this to the test the morning after, and I am happy to report that there were no mad dashes to the toilet that day. The distinctly vinegary taste really hit the spot.

Osaka

Despite staying in Osaka on the previous trip, we didn’t really give the city a fair shake, so this time we cruised through Shinsekai, Osaka Castle, Kuromon Market and revisited Dotombori.

Though these urban hotspots were still busy, they were definitely less crowded compared to the pre-pandemic days. The fact that one could move around without literally squeezing through people was a welcome relief — an observation that would be repeated in Tokyo.

However, the main reason why Osaka was a key part of the trip was Super Nintendo World in Universal Studios Japan. Having only been to Canada’s Wonderland in the past, I was surprised to find such a heavy focus on visual themes as opposed to rides. There are entire portions of the park dedicated to themes such as cityscapes of America and Harry Potter. It was all very nice to walk through, and I was glad to find the entire experience does not consist of waiting in lines to get into rides.

However, it was immediately obvious that the main draw at the park was Super Nintendo World. Even on a weekday, the placed was packed. The presentation of the park was as stunning as the photos made them out to be, right down to the spinning coins on top of the blocky hills. Due to the sheer volume of people present, just about everything involved a line-up, be it the snack stand selling noodle-filled Koopa shells, the restaurant doling out adorably presented (and pricey foods), and even just to punch a question block. Personally, I was fine during my time at Super Mario World, but later on in the day I was pretty much completely tapped out when going through the other parts of USJ.

There were only two real rides in Super Nintendo World, both with wait times of over an hour. We picked the Mario Kart: Bowser’s Challenge ride situated within the impressively intimidating castle. Though I did not know it at the time, the line is led through no less than half a dozen different waiting rooms, each charmingly decorated to keep the crowd entertained. Every room felt like it might be the last, which I imagine is a well-known trick to keep the crowd from getting too agitated. It certainly worked for me, as I emerged from the line not only with my sanity intact, but actually modestly entertained.

The ride itself was quite interesting — there are pairs of augmented reality goggles physically linked to the vehicle. These googles snap into headbands handed to the riders in advance, and the goggles overlay images of the other vehicles and special effects onto the player’s vision. The player is able to turn the steering wheel to collect the item blocks obtaining shells, and shoot said shells at the opposing Koopaling team.

The on-rail vehicle takes the player through a mish-mash of well-known Mario Kart track themes. It starts off at a standard circuit track before going underwater, then onto twisted mansion, cloudtop cruise, grumble volcano, and finally rainbow road. The physical aspects of the ride serve as the backdrop to the images on the AR goggles, and the presentation is on point. At the end of the ride, each player is scored based on the number of successful shell hits (friendly fire on team Mario deduct points).

What was remarkable is that the actual physical ride was very slow, and the area the vehicle courses through was shockingly compact. Yet with the help of some clever rotations of the vehicle and the well-crafted effects on the AR goggles, it really did feel like I was tearing through the race at breakneck speed. Very cool!

All in all, I was glad to have visited Super Nintendo World, but it’s not a straightforward recommendation for everyone. You need to be able to deal with a lot of lines and crowds, and you need to go in with the understanding that the appeal is the atmosphere, not the rides. If you tick these boxes, then you’ll have a great time in this lovingly realized mushroom kingdom.

Kyoto

The timing for the entire trip was determined with Kyoto’s autumn foliage in mind, and the sights there certainly did not disappoint. As the cultural repository of Japan, Kyoto’s image is manicured to a much greater degree than other major cities, and the sheer concentrations of attractions make it the top destination this time of year.

What became immediately obvious was that I had under-estimated the autumn foliage crowds in Kyoto. Even without the mainland Chinese tourists, every single tourist spot is packed. I suspect that this is the first “post-covid” travel season for much of the domestic crowd. After the big wave over the summer 2022 (during which most people got acquainted with the virus) my assumption is that fear and uncertainty surrounding covid had dissipated somewhat, as evidenced by the numerous older travelers braving the crowds.

Of the stops we made, the Arashiyama region on the west end of the city was the highlight of the entire trip. The weather was picture perfect, and we had arrived ahead of the crowds early in the morning. Beyond the famous bamboo grove is Okochi Sanso, the former villa of a silent film-era actor that was landscaped over the span of thirty years. The views of Kyoto along with Mt. Hiei was absolutely stunning.

Also of note is Kameyama Parky immediately to the south. As a public park that’s open 24/7, this is the perfect place to visit before nearby attractions open. There are observation points that overlook the Katsura river and the dense foliage of Arashiyama. Not only was the view sublime, but there was hardly anyone there. This is a great place to take a break from the crowds.

The next stop on the itinerary was Tofuku-ji, a Buddhist temple that is a fixture among top autumn sights in Kyoto. Even though I knew it is known for fall colours, I was not at all prepared for the sheer concentration of Japanese maple trees there, the density of which is only matched by the crowds present. The pictures speak for themselves.

The sun sets at around 4:30pm this time of year in Kyoto, but the lack of sunlight doesn’t mean the end of fall colours. Many temples and shrines flip on the switch at night to illuminate the buildings and surrounding trees. We chose Kiyomizu-dera as our night time destination, and it was as packed as Tofuku-ji before it for good reason.

I remembered Kiyomizu-dera fondly on our previous visit, and it was good to see the main hall without the gigantic scaffolding that was in place during its renovation back in 2019. However, the atmosphere is completely different at night. With the maple tree lit up, the red leaves look like flames on a mountain ablaze, so much so that the eyes struggle to adjust to the brightness of the lights against the darkness of the night.

Truth be told, one can’t go wrong in Kyoto this time of year. There’s beautiful architecture adorned by nature no matter where you go, like the rock gardens of Nanzen-ji and the sand garden of Ginkaku-ji. There was a sense of urgency to see as many of these fall attractions as possible in our two days in Kyoto, but at some point it became a case of too much of a good thing as everything started to blur together. Throw in the extreme amount of walking back and forth (34,000 steps on the longest day), the burnout was creeping in earlier than I had anticipated.

Thankfully, some relaxation was in order as we entered the second half of the trip. The idea on paper was to take it easy in the region around Tokyo, where the goal was more about eating and shopping and less about chasing sights. However, things were quite a bit more complicated in practice, and I’ll tell you all about it in the next post.

I forgot how it happened, but at some point I learned that the commuter parking lot at Finch subway station is very cheap on the evenings. Consequently, we’ve made a habit having Friday evening dates after work, mostly to the Yonge and Finch area where there is a large concentration of Asian restaurants.

Similarly, I’ve discovered a large public underground parking lot near the distillery district, which has become a launchpad for significantly quicker excursions to downtown Toronto. Definitely beats the long subway ride!

As a result, this summer has been unusually indulgent. Though we have had excursions in summer 2021 in Toronto, covid restrictions were still very much present, and there was still a tingle of guilt that came with it, like engaging in a reckless activity that will endanger co-workers. Needless to say, all that completely went out the window in 2022 and it was all about going hard. Besides, it seemed very likely that Japan wasn’t going to open up this year, so we might as well spurge a little. I especially enjoyed the Friday evening — it was like making a long weekend out of a normal one.

Public events were also back in full force this summer. There were quite a few food festivals, the Canadian National Exhibition, as well the Japan Festival Canada in Mississauga. Not having them for two years straight has given me newfound appreciation for them. Sometimes it’s just good to be outside and laze about on the grass, even if the events aren’t the most interesting.

Not only did the entirety of summer pass by, but we’re also knee-deep in autumn! Instead of going up north this year, we went to some nearby parks to take in the fall colours. I’d like to say that we’re too poor to afford gas for the long drive, but really we were just lazy. Xenoblade Chronicles 3 and Splatoon 3 certainly didn’t help with motivation either.

There was also plenty of home cooking in these past five months. the butterflied roast turkey for thanksgiving turned out to be a huge hit with the in-laws, and the yakitori skewers were surprisingly simple and good, even though the bamboo skewers burnt up on the grill. My other half was no slouch with the sweets either.

I also finally finished the MG Gundam Alex 2.0, which was almost a year in the making of on-and-off work. I’ll probably take some more proper photos in the winter when there’s fewer things to do.

Finally, despite pessimism earlier in the year over Japan’s agonizingly cautious stance towards inbound tourism, a flurry of developments occurred in September and before I knew it, Japan’s is now open for business as of October 11th! And you better believe we’ve got plane ticket lined up, so there will be many photo to share on the next post.

Anyways, time to finish up planning the upcoming adventure. Until next time!

I caught covid again in April, which was less than three months since my boosters shot and first infection. This time it was as mild as it could be — so much so that I was certain it was just a simple cold prior to the positive test results. It was a little annoying to test over and over again for work, but otherwise it was a non-event. Covid countermeasures have continued to evaporate as expected, which I am more than happy to see.

The enjoyable warmer has finally arrived in May, and this year marks the full resumption of pre-covid activities. One such activity is viewing the cherry blossoms in Toront’s High Park, which had been closed off in 2020 and 2021 to avoid crowd congestion.

We went really early in the morning for better light, and there weren’t too many people there at the time. Maybe it was the early morning sunlight, but the flowers looked pinker than previous years, and great times were had.

We also went on a short road trip to Ottawa on the May Victoria day long weekend. Unbeknownst to me, the Centre Block building at Parliament Hill is undergoing long-term renovation, so the view is hobbled by some construction cranes and other construction equipment. Still, there’s plenty of handsome architecture to take in around the city, which is also dotted with many statues and monuments.

There was actually a severe thunderstorm on that weekend that knocked out power to large portions of the city, which we thankfully spent indoors at the hotel. Unfortunately it appears to have blown away the remaining flowers at the tulip festival , which was one of the reasons why we decided to visit.

He had originally planned to go to multiple museums during the trip, but we definitely under-estimated the size of the National Gallery of Canada. There was a lot of take in there, after which we were all museum’d out. We spent the rest of the day eating, relaxing, and taking in a very nice sunset at Major’s Hill park.

But all in all, good times were had in the city of Ottawa, and given its relative close proximity, we’d gladly go again to hit up some of the other museums we had missed.

Looking forward, I’m not sure about what our travel plans will be for the rest of the year. Japan has started the process of opening up to foreign tourists, but it’s still in very limited numbers and in guided tour groups only. My hope is that by November the restriction will have been completely lifted, but that is far from the certain assumption. Still, my fingers remain crossed — especially with the yen is cheap as it is now.

I went for my booster on a Friday, felt some mild side effects on Saturday, and was completely fine on Sunday. But when Monday came around, I was feeling like i was coming down with a cold by the middle of the day. A rapid test I took at work turned out negative that afternoon, so I considered the possibility that it might be a second round of side effects. Whatever it was, it escalated into a fit of chills and fever that same night, which subsided around midnight.

By Tuesday morning I felt fine enough to drive the wife to work, though I wasn’t having a great time doing it. I rested for the rest of the day and felt significantly better with the help of over-the-counter cold & flu medicine, with nighttime NeoCitran doing a lot of the heavy lifting.

I went to work the following morning and took another rapid test, and this time I got a positive result. After that it was straight back to home for me for five days. The wife also came down with similar symptoms later on in the week, though it never got as bad as a fever. And thanks to the current covid testing policy in Ontario, she never got tested, so we don’t technically know for certain if she’s had it or not.. In both of our cases, all lingering minor symptoms disappeared in about a week.

This experience was certainly an interesting way to start the year. At the risk of trivializing the greatest public health challenge of our time, I have to say: getting and then recovering from covid feels fantastic. It’s good to be assured that I did not become one of the rare nightmare cases of severe or long covid. It is especially good to feel somewhat invincible to re-infections, and to be finally free from the main culprit in this age of uncertainty.

The omicron wave really does feel like the turning point in the pandemic. It was this wave that an avalanche of people became familiarized with the disease due to the sheer number of infections, either through first-hand or second-hand experience. Consequently, I’ve noticed a big change of attitude toward covid in those around me. Some proclaim they are confident that the rounds of vaccination will protect them sufficiently from the serious outcomes, but I see the shift as a collective capitulation to reality.

Vaccination alone has unfortunately failed to end transmission, and the populace as a whole are just unwilling to put up with more anti-covid measures, especially since the virus is quick to exploit the weak links of any strategy (I’m looking at you, border restrictions!). At the same time, the strain of the public health care system has not been catastrophic despite the changing attitudes. It was still tremendously disruptive here in Ontario, as the backlog of procedures will take years to clear up, but there were no scenes of makeshift morgues, for example.

So what now? Well, I feel bad for the folks who have kept up their guard all this time, because rightfully or wrongly the world has passed them by. As covid mandates evaporate, all one can hope for is for the virus to become milder over time rather than the other way around. At this point being covid-free is not only a tremendous sacrifice of life experiences, but also an increasingly far-fetched pursuit.

In a sense, covid is “over” — not as a definitive triumph of modern science, but rather a decidedly less sexy process of dilution, both in the virus itself  and our response to it. Not the best possible outcome, but I would be happy if this is where we ultimately settle down. For my part, I look forward to the warmer months without a sweaty face diaper.

In non-covid related news, I have recently finished a full year streak of Duolingo Japanese lessons! I am pretty proud of myself for this achievement. It’s definite not the most efficient way to learn the language, but it was easy to settle on a routine with its bite-sized lessons.

Kanji is so much worse than i imagined. It’s got the visual complexity of their Chinese origin, but with none of the consistency. In Chinese, a single character almost always has only one pronunciation. In Japanese, there are multiple pronunciations that are completely dependent on context, which drives me absolutely nuts. For example, 月 is pronounced as tsuki, getsu, gatsu, gachi, and a few other pronunciations that are for names only. Having a background in Chinese helps a lot with recognition, but the pronunciations will forever baffle me.

Thankfully, hiragana and katakana are the opposite. They are more akin to a normal western alphabet system, and there is no guess work on the pronunciation. Paired with some basic kanji knowledge, I can go through most food packaging and restaurant menus.

The true value of the lessons this past year is learning the particles which bind words together into sentences, such as wa (は), o (を), de (で), ni (に), and no (の). Instead of detailed explanations, Duolingo teaches via sheer repetition with the support of community discussion in the comments. I won’t claim the progress made this year is anything to boast about, but this has given me some of the basics to break down sentences I come across in video games and anime, which improves my ability to learn organically.

You might say that this is a rather pointless skill to learn for someone who will only be in Japan as a tourist, but I say it’s no less useless than any of my other hobbies. The learning process has been fun and rewarding, and that’s plenty enough for me. With that said, I do look forward to the next opportunity when I will get to flex my broken Japanese to the natives.

I did not take many pictures these past couple of months, so the pictures here are just assorted home cooking photos, most of them being from the Christmas dinner with the in-laws. This is going to be an extra-long covid-journal rant.

On a macro level, omicron is still putting enough people in hospital for this virus to be hugely disruptive to the healthcare that we’ve come to expect. Cancellation of surgeries and delays to medical care are not fun when you’re on the receiving end, so I do understand why the authorities are going so far as re-implementing restrictions to get a handle on the situation.

But on an individual scale, the odds of becoming severely ill is even smaller than before, which was already a low risk for a large swath of the population. This discrepancy between individual and societal risk is what’s making the current wave so frustrating. I don’t think it’s reasonable to expect everyone to be model citizens thinking of the big picture, especially when most people have kept with the program for almost two full years.

Further complicating things is the lack of the proverbial carrot on the stick. Earlier on in the pandemic, the vaccines were touted as the ticket back to a normal life. While this still seems to be true to a certain degree, the outlook for the future is a lot murkier. Omicron is ripping through populations of high vaccination rates like butter, and there is a lot of anecdotal evidence of boosted individuals getting infected all the same. The speedy rollout of third shots immediately after the discovery of omicron also did not inspire much confidence either — it’s hard to imagine detailed studies were on the effects of the third short on a newly identified variant.

In recent days I have been entertaining the thought that it may be hubris to overcome the pandemic through human ingenuity. Covid has already demonstrated its ability to overcome natural and vaccine immunity within 2 years of its existence, and the logistics of updating existing vaccines and distributing them worldwide within a reasonable span of time seems far-fetched. I hope that there is some baseline protection from vaccines and prior infections even after the immune response has waned, because it really seems like everyone will catch covid sooner and later.

In closing. 2021 was not a great year for me. My mother passed away, and all the predictions of the pandemic’s end completely missed the mark. The visit to relatives in china remains in limbo for the foreseeable future. However, I am grateful to have had the two trips. Montreal & Vancouver ain’t Japan, but they were good memories nonetheless in a year of complicated feelings.

I don’t have much in the way of expectations for 2022, which is not meant to sound excessively depressing. There is just so much uncertainty about how the world will come to terms with covid as a permanent fixture. Will the world lurch back and forth on the rhythm dictated by a virus, or will there be a general consensus on acceptable risk? Will there be relevant breakthroughs of medical science that’s sufficiently accessible to make a difference, or will it be a year of daily statistics that we’ve all grown so sick of hearing? I wish I could know.

As we enter year three of covid, all I wish for is some semblance of certainty in horizon. A big ask, I know — but it’s hard to look forward to anything when everything changes on the fly.

But alas, if the future remains obscured, we can at least focus on the present. I wish you all good health and success in this coming year — may we all be pleasantly surprised by what 2022 will bring.

The first thing one notices about Vancouver is the natural beauty that quite literally surrounds the city. To the west and south is the pacific ocean, and to the north and east lies the majestic rocky mountains. Even when you’re in the middle of the city minding your own business, the geography of the place constantly dangles nature’s appeal in the corner of your eye.

To the north end of the city lies the Capilano Suspension Bridge Park and Grouse Mountain, both of which are great choices for lazy people who don’t want to venture too far from civilization to experience nature. Capilano not only boasts its eponymous bridge, but also treetop walks, forest-floor boardwalks, and even a cliffside trail, all of which were worthwhile attractions in their own right. The name of the park makes it sound like a one-trick pony, but it turned out to be a great time all-around.

Grouse mountain lies a bit further north, but well within the reach of public transit. A ski mountain in the winter, the summit of the mountain is easily accessible by cable car. At 1231m above sea level, the city of 2.4 million people no longer looks so large. There is also an owl show and a grizzly bear sanctuary on top of the mountain. The latter was a real treat — the two resident bears were very active on the day of our visit, playing, splashing and wrestling the entire time. They were like giant furry babies — adorable yet terrifying in their strength.

The time spent within the city was also a lot of fun. Stanley park is another great spot to enjoy the natural gifts of the region with its spectacular seawall walk. It is also the home to the excellent Vancouver Aquarium, where we absolutely fell in love with the otters. There’s also a collection of native totem poles on the eastern tip of the park, striking examples of the artistic aesthetic that is a foundation in the local culture here.

For more on the subject, the Museum of Anthropology to the west end of the city is a true treasure trove of native art both old and modern. The museum is just jam packed with artefacts! It’s nice to see the craft is alive and well to the current day, because there is something enduringly appealing in the bold designs.

Also a spot of interest is Granville Island, an industrial wasteland turned tourist trap. There are loads of interesting shops and food options here, including a very nice fresh food market for the locals and visitors alike. The view of tightly packed boats on the surrounding wharf is also a point of interest in its own right.

There are many interesting streets in Vancouver dotted with shops and restaurants, so the city is a pleasure to walk though. Particularly relevant to our interests is the sheer saturation of Japanese restaurants here. It would seem that Japanese food is the perfect intersection of western and eastern tastes, because you can’t walk a few feet without bumping into a ramen or sushi restaurant downtown.

We ate a lot here. If there was a food budget, it was driven off the cliff almost immediately. Part of it is because of the rising food prices everywhere these days, but mostly it’s because of the wealth of options. I really enjoyed the baked sablefish at Miku, and the wife was a big fan of noodles mixed with raw egg at Kokro Tokyo Mazesoba. The vegan burgers at Meet would hold their own against any gourmet meat burger, and the bento boxes at Fujiya foods were insane value.

Not all is sunshine & roses in Vancouver, however — the city has a very large homeless population. The frontier of gentrification is the gastown and chinatown districts, where trendy bars and boutiques are springing up. This is where you’ll find entire blocks of homeless people lining the streets in what appears to be a very established community. While homelessness is undoubtedly a complex issue, it’s hard to not be taken aback by the stark contrast of the scenes.

Based on some cursory googling I’ve done since, it appears that many of the homeless in Vancouver come from other parts of Canada. This makes perfect sense, since the climate in Vancouver is much milder than the rest of the country, so there’s little concern about freezing in the winters. Maybe this is not really a knock against the city — hell, if I ended up homeless, I’d be hopping on the first train out west too.

Anyways, that’s about it for Vancouver. After returning home, I made two Thanksgiving turkey feasts (one for my dad and the other for my in-laws), so now I’m pretty confident in my turkey-roasting and carving skills. As it turned out I actually prefer cooking for a crowd over mingling with it, so I’m actually looking forward to a repeat performance at Christmas.

As for my usual covid-related side-rant…well, there isn’t much to talk about these days. The concept of the vaccine passport has really taken off in the past few months, and vaccine mandates are taking effect in both public and private sector jobs. I think the authorities here have done a decent job at hassling people into getting vaccinated to a point where the only ones left are the true die-hard anti-vaxers, who are giving up a lot of life’s pleasures (and possibly their jobs) for their beliefs. Say what you will about the validity of those beliefs, but you’ve gotta give them at least some credit for their conviction.

These days I’m more curious about the covid situation in other countries. Of course I still keep my eyes on Japan, where there have been recent moves to open up to business and student travellers. I’m not very optimistic about a quick re-opening to foreign tourists, though — there doesn’t appear to be much public appetite for that beyond those with direct business with the tourism industry. Hopefully if nothing bad happens over the winter months, there will be better news for next 2022.

Of more concern to me is the situation in China, where there are some long overdue family matters to take care of. China is still taking a zero-tolerance approach to covid even after a significant rollout of its vaccination campaign. To the people there, covid truly is a foreigner’s disease (even right down to the origins, if you believe in the propaganda). Add on the ongoing tensions with much of the west-aligned world and I get the feeling that letting in foreigners is not high on the priority list of the government there. The fact that the 2022 Winter Olympics will not have any foreign spectators also does not bode well for a speedy re-opening.

Anyways, these have been some of the thoughts over the last three months. As the temperature gets lower, so does the likelihood of any adventures happening. Until next time!