A Qpot is a mysterious pot. It is a very cute pot. It is one that makes you hungry, it is one that makes you happy. There is nothing about Wakamatsu Tadaaki’s creations that doesn’t brighten up the dullest of days. His confections of jewellery are designed to connect people by making them smile and every time I see a brightly coloured macaron or petit cake ring, my heart leaps with joy, feeling all the excitement of a child as I gaze on the cuteness…

If you venture off the sleek uniformity of Omotesando, away from the familiar brand-lined street and into the backstreets of Kita Aoyama you can find this veritable sweetshop of quirky cute.

The doors are two giant slabs of chocolate, each appetising piece imprinted with the swirls of the Qpot logo. The candy trail continues within and with eyes like saucers you follow to yummy rooms of chocolate, French bread, biscuits and chou creams. The scene is so yummy, it is hard not to grab one of the mini cakes and gobble it up. Actually I have noticed my cake buying increase since caving to the Qpot cravings.

Puchi travels… my beloved puchi cake ring

Travel Details:

From the A1 exit of Omotesando station, walk down the street towards Harajuku until you see Tod’s.

Turn left here and go straight down the side street until there is a Crayon House （クレヨンハウス) and turn left again, continuing up this street until you see Q-pot on the left.

Countless places write about onsen experience, sushi experience and so on, but behind the simple act of going to the cinema lie further little quirks about the Japanese.

Unless you head to Toho in Roppongi, the most internationalised cinema I know of (they have penny sweets!), Japanese cinemas are an interesting lot.

My first visit was to Q Front, a tiny cinema with little more than a sweet counter and the screen. How economical and yet such a contrast to the reams of merchandise sold in small shops attached to every cinema. Much like going to a theatre at home, you can buy pamphlets and other assorted trinkets such as phonestraps and uchiwa. This merchandise held us up from buying snacks before Batman at the Yurakucho Picadilly as a woman in front spent an inordinate amount of time choosing what plastic Batman toy she wanted to act as her drink lid.

Batman also revealed to me the love of the Japanese to sit through the credits. At Kurosagi and HanaDan I paid this little attention – my friends and I bolted out and I could understand sitting through Japanese credits. At Batman everyone waited and watched patiently until the final reel before quietly standing, gathering their belongings and filing, still silently, out of the cinema. The same then happened at Sex and the City. I have tried to think of a reason why but something I am sure of is that it cannot be for reading purposes. Credits tend to move too fast for even native speakers to read, and they are also quite hideously dull interesting only if your son/daughter was a part of the production. Without even subtitles though… I imagine it is simply considered polite to wait out the entire show until it has finished.

The final small quirk I recently noticed was at the Shinjuku Picadilly yesterday. The Picadilly is of the new breed of Japanese cinemas with it’s sleek modern design of opaque white glass covering the interior, designer snacks and multi-screens. What was quite different though was that people waited patiently and at the time printed on the ticket an announcement came over the tannoy that the screen would now be opening. No laxadaisical hanging around the door but instead clean and smart efficiency.

It’s funny to think something I considered to be a very uniform activity of modern culture could be populated by so many quirks. I never witnessed anything similar in HK or indeed any other city where I have seen a movie, just Japan.

A tower of balloons in bright colours adorns the side of La Foret in Harajuku, acting as a beacon for all of Omotesando: Sale time is here, enter at your peril. Inside is the closest thing to consumer hell (or heaven, depending on your viewpoint); it would test even the most ardent shopper as every Japanese woman within the confines of Tokyo descend on the department store. To add to these heaving masses (that make browsing like wading through whitewater) there are the clerks. Bearing placards with characters reading TIME OFF or 100 YEN scrawled colourfully in childish marker pen, they bellow at high speed and pitch, often accompanied by bright plastic megaphones to ‘entice’ shoppers in. Or rather coerce given the frequent screaming matches that escalate between various shop girls. The only problem in this extreme cacophony is that you cannot make out the difference from one sale to the next. Even the stairs are rammed full of people; packed with women waiting to enter particularly popular stores while other shoppers navigating their course between the 8 floors have to pick their way between the hazards of shopper bags and heels. For the uninitiated it is terrifying but for the girl with a mind to spend money the only answer is to dive in. It is a true test of anyone’s sanity, as a friend said ‘I got to the third floor and I just had to get out of there!’

La Foret is not unusual. While other sales (excepting perhaps Shibuya 109) are not quite as manic the frenzied fever for bargains in Japan is huge. Following the Bubble Burst and the recession that followed, the Japanese learnt to become more careful with money and developed a keener eye for a bargain. The spate of 100 yen shops that opened in the wake of the sudden economic downturn are evidence of this. A few jumbled racks of clothing with 20% discounts in the UK is nothing on the madness of a Japanese sale where 70% is the order of the day. Here, 20% is quite simply stingy. Normally such a huge discount may suggest a brand in trouble, but it is usual practice in Japan where fashions change fast and despite the continuing popularity of many items, every store slashes the prices. With their highly disposeable incomes, Japanese women cannot resist as the giant La Foret sales bags become ubiquitous across Harajuku. Shops set out wagons for girls to root through the cheap clothing with a noticeable rush for the coveted items. It is like the opening of Roberto Cavalli for H&M in London, but 12 hours and for five days. After the five days are up, La Foret returns to normal with barely a sale sign in sight. As fast as it came the madness vanishes as if it were a terrifying nightmare.

Watching the biannual scrum of consumerism it is easy to think ‘what economic problems’. Japan has only just started to feel rising prices after months of resistance, not that that would probably affect the single minded determinism of young women wanting new, cheap clothes. As the Japanese economy started to recover the country began to enjoy some high spending once again although the lessons learned during the harder recession years at least taught the young women to bargain hunt fiercely. For a nation obsessed with consumerism and branding to then offer these brands for super cheap prices is too tempting an offer even if that economic situation is once again taking a turn for the worse.

Economic discussion aside, the La Foret Bazaar is a grand circus, a retailer’s ultimate fantasy and for bemused foreign visitors, a unique slice of modern Japanese life that is worlds away from the placid shrine just up the road. The colour, noise and crowds is un-rivalled and un-equalled anywhere else in the world and like much of young Japan, crazy, manic and loud!

Yesterday an erratic schedule at work gave me a lovely long break early in the morning, time I used to wander down the road to Ginza in search of a MAC shop. I hadn’t counted on Japanese department stores being closed until 11am so, after entertaining myself in Starbucks for half an hour with Minna no Nihongo, I ambled back to Matsuya Ginza. For the first time in my life, I queued for a department store to open.

Of all the department stores in Ginza, Matsuya appeals the most both aesthetically and in the brands they hold in store. The facade is interesting and verging on modern art with riveted white metal that is cover by clear squares of glass across the whole building. At night it takes on a distinctly futuristic feel with white light emanating in horizontal lines from between the sheets of metal. The design of Matsuya is elegantly modern and ensures it stands out like a shining beacon at Ginza 4-chome.

When I arrived it had not yet opened and was being peacefully guarded by two clerks who just stood silently watching a bunch of obaa-sans straining to get in. At 10 it finally opened it’s doors and I headed towards the MAC stand. The utterly bizarre thing was the bowing that became a highly discomforting feeling as you walked down the shop pathway. Every shop clerk was stood at the door to their store and as the first people entered there was a domino effect of bowing and announcing ‘Irrasshaimase’. All of which left me feeling quite strange as I wasn’t quite sure what to do. In the end I just smiled nervously at them and quickened my pace to the safety of the MAC store. Later I asked one of my Private students, Hiromi about it. She told me that people just ignore the bows and in recognising them I was being a friendly person. Interestingly she also said that she finds it odd but at the same time it is just all part and parcel of the service culture in Japan that means a customer received treatment we could only dream of in the UK. Thing is, now I want to go to La Foret first thing and see if the same happens there; a bunch of punks and lolis and the Like a Edison staff bowing…. that would be extremely surreal.

On an unrelated point, the weather or rather the forecasting of said weather is annoying me. Today they predicted Thunderstorms and heavy rain all day. I thus cancelled the picnic I had arranged, although I left it until 1am to get more accurate reports. So today I open my curtain and what do I see? SUN! FFS!!! Every weather forecaster I checked got it oh so wrong! It had better be sunny next week now when I want to re-hold it as it is too late to change everyone’s plans again. Instead I shall go to the gym and then to Jiyugaoka for the afternoon.

One of the more delightful aspects of living in Japan is the inherent traditional love for a good festival at numerous points in the year and in a great variety of places. For the casual traveller and indeed for the foreign resident, it perks up a routine weekend with a sudden bustle of colour and noise. This is especially so in the area I work – Nihombashi. While Nihombashi may have an illustrious history amidst the swirling memories of old Edo, today it is a dull business district with only the Takashimaya Department store to boast of. The grand old bridge itself is a telling reminder of how Nihombashi has fallen, it’s beauty overshadowed by a whopping great freeway that spoils an otherwise potentially lovely area. Even as the matsuri moved along the streets the vehicles did not stop, weaving around the dancing hordes in happi coats and tabi socks. For me, however, it was a fantastic spectacle right on my work doorstep.

Nihombashi’s Sannou Matsuri

If you asked me, prior to coming to Japan, something I would never have imagined doing then spending one hour in a queue to buy doughnuts would be a pretty good example of that something. This however is Japan so normal rules do not apply.

When my friend told me about Krispy Kreme Doughnuts in Tokyo I refused to believe her. My experience was of small outlets such as the one in Waterloo station, London where you have to wait maybe two minutes to receive sugary goodness. In Tokyo though, the (until recently) sole Shinjuku branch has proved so popular that folks are willing to wait a long time. An hour in fact and until said friend convinced me it was a good idea to go I would only have willingly stood in such a queue for a rollercoaster or the like. On Saturday we decided to brave the Tokyo Krispy Kreme experience joining a queue that started on the rail bridge before winding in a concertina fashion in front of the store. Krispy Kreme did not make the wait too unpleasant though. People are shepherded in blocks to the bunched up queue area from the rail bridge where, in close proximity to the aroma of warm baking doughnuts, Krispy Kreme dole out free and freshly glazed offerings accompanied by numerous murmurs of ‘umaiii….oishiii’.

As you draw closer you are given menus to choose in advance because inside it is hectic as patrons hurriedly order to then thrust their cash guiltily to the smiling assistant and then shuffle out with a big box of calories in a clear plastic bag that shows your shame for all the world to see. It just screams ‘Look at me! I waited an hour to buy food that’s going to make me fat’. Back on the train, half the looks are in envy and the other half make appalled faces. Biting into one later though, as you may expect made the wait oh so worth it and it is another ‘idiot’ thing I can say I have done. Yeahhh~

There are not that many scenic spots in Tokyo for alfresco dining, or at least there are not many where the view of concrete is minimal unless, of course, you picnic in Yoyogi Park. Last Friday, however, I found a pretty spot for summer lunches: The Canal Cafe. That Friday, the erratic Spring weather went in my favour as I was greeted by cloudless blue skies and a warm sun on arrival at Iidabashi station.

The Cafe was a strange experience if only because for the while that my friend and I were there, we did not feel like we were in Japan. The quaint white boathouse appearance of the restaurant, with assorted pot plants and decking for that alfresco touch, looked more suited to Stratford upon Avon than the steaming Japanese metropolis. I think the only thing that rooted it to some sense of reality was the interesting presentation of food ordered. In the UK, such a cafe would serve drinks in proper cups but to save time here, the cheaper ‘cafe’ side takes a fastfood approach with beverages in paper coke cups and food in paper trays. The food however did not taste or look cheap enough to befit this presentation; smoked salmon was combined with cream cheese and capers in a tasty raisin bagel that proved a delicious light lunch. It was an odd juxtaposition of unfussy cafeteria and refined cafe. Having said that, I can put presentation issues aside for the sheer enjoyment of eating outside. Summer is coming and I may spend a few more lunches there.

Ume, or Plum Blossom heralds the onset of Spring in Japan and the start of a blossom season when the nation goes crazy for gazing at trees. Ume flowers tend to bloom quickly, as early as late February when the days are still bitterly cold and there still remains a chance of snow. The bright white flowers set against a typically blue winter sky is quite magical and one can understand a little of why the Japanese are so keen on this season. Interestingly due to this early bloom date, the Chinese consider ume to be a symbol of winter instead and together with pine and bamboo is one of the Three Friends of Cold.

The Japanese have a lot of use for ume. It is frequently found inhabiting the centre of onigiri as the sour tasting, umeboshi, or creating the sticy sweet flavour of umeshu (plum wine). As one might expect there are auspicious reasons behind the use of ume; the Japanese believe that it wards against misfortune and will plant ume trees in the north-eastern corner of the garden, the direction it is believed that evil comes from. Eating a sour ume for breakfast is also intended to have the same effect. I don’t however think that hanging an ume charm from a keitai is beneficial. Evil can easily dodge something that is only occasionally pointing north-east.

I will be honest though, Ume blossoms quite skipped my mind until the day my Dad left in January and gave me a parting gift of the ume charm from Kinkaku-ji in Kyoto. Rather than warding off evil, the charm hanging from my phone served as a daily reminder to find an Ume matsuri. Such as the one held at Yushima Tenjin shrine near Ueno. The main festival was held until March 8th, a festival I managed to miss through usual lack of organisation. Undeterred however, my friend, Lauren and I decided to catch the tail-end of ume season with a short stroll around Yushima Tenjin.

Despite the lack of awe factor that an entire courtyard of white blossoms would have offered, the remaining flowers were still incredibly beautiful and bountiful in number to somewhat appreciate the event. A few matsuri stalls had hung around too with one selling the sweet amazake wine and a bread based snack. At home I always felt a touch of amusement about having parties to watch flowers but when I stood to properly admire the flowers I could understand the obsession. The setting of crisp white flower and austere Shinto shrine was a perfect balance of elegance. The blossoms were full, large flowers in stunning hues of pink and white and one didn’t need too many to achieve a beautiful effect. Sakura season will be incredible; my friends and I are already planning a Hanami picnic and this time we will not miss it!

The only camera images I have are from my keitai but they offer some idea of the beauty of these flowers

It is not surprising for mp3 applications on mobile phones to be advertised by celebrities, it is however somewhat strange for those celebrities to be accompanied by a cute hiphop squirrel. Then again, this is Japan. In the UK an advert for a mobile phone will try and make the brand sleek and sexy to appeal to adults; here in Japan only Softbank seems to bother doing this with Cameron Diaz pouting all over their cms. The provider of my mobile phone, AU, have a squirrel mascot. Docomo, meanwhile, favour a mushroom – cute, as ever, is the order of the day.

When I bought my new phone in December the AU shop gave me a gift of this plastic squirrel, a gift that I discovered to be a money box when I looked at it more fully once at home. Until recently though, I had not figured out what the orange oblong it holds was meant to be – thanks to the Exile commercials I know it is actually meant to be an mp3 player. It appears that combining these seemingly conflicting elements makes marketing genius in Japan because the recently released Lismo compilation album has hit 7th on the Oricon charts.

This is the advert in question:

If it weren’t for EXILE, I would love this advert and all because of that cute ‘bo’ squirrel. Take note, UK!

This is the plastic moneybox by the way. I decided to save 1 yen coins in it and find out how much in terms of 1 yen pieces I have accumulated in 3 months. As a result it is called the Yen Squirrel.