Day 3: Mummy said I never should (book a holiday without first consulting her)

I've literally booked to stay in a ghost town. As my dear not-wife has just proffered, it looks like a clickbait article for what a grand place looks like after an apocalyptic abandonment. It's darn creepy, I'll try upload the video of said pool with eerie Christmas hymns playing in the background.

And yes, we've learned something here. Heed Mummy's advice, as even at 30 it's still quite possible to bollocks it all up. Royally.

My waking thought was 'Fuck, how is Christmas dinner going to go? Will there be one?'
I feel silly now for snubbing the M&S dinner that was the alternative, thinking if I wasn't going to cook my own I may as well go abroad. They'll make a fuss of it won't they? At least some part of the day there'll be a sit down meal, I'm over the fact there'll be no pigs in blankets, was hardly expecting Yorkshires, but being half board if breakfast is as catastrophic as the last 2 days, Small will be loading up in festive McDonalds. And I'll be damned if I don't find her some ice cream SOMEWHERE...

Hence the walk around the complex, a last resort attempt to try and find some silver lining in this wonderful mistake. And I find this.

Sheffielders, anyone recall that period of time where Castle Market was closed but the signage and stalls were still there? Loaded with the memories of a time passed, ghosts of a once thriving community whispering in the background over heavy shelves and bowed canopies. I'm there, right there now. Makes me think of what Meadowhall will look like in the year 2086, without the robots.

Though speaking of, I've come to notice a distinct overstock of mannekins. The rush of arrival and midnight food hunting oversaw this detail at the time, but now with all the time in the world to appreciate the environment, I truly See. All the air of an upmarket department store with all the pizazz of a pandemic. Tinsel though, every cloud.

These guys are everywhere. The reason I haven't really ventured downstairs on an evening, fancy bumping into one of these in the dark, bristling nerves to match the tinsel they're adorned with.

I feel like I'm knee deep in ethnographic study of Fukishima. Timeless abandon.

My dear Dutch friend Henny spoke of renting a bicycle to explore, possibly even to his in the next village, possibly for Koffee and Kaas, but in the absence of his mobile number I can only leave a 1471 in Sheffield. But exploring could be interesting, what exactly, I'm unsure of.

We're still sans Paw Patrol. This is hellish.

Comments

Holiday blues

A month down the line. It's hard to believe that a month ago today we were both well in the depths of the most horrific long haul flight I'd never imagined I'd be mopping sick up on, navigating tiny aisles and even tinier seats with my lardy arse, or that we were about to embark on a holiday of a lifetime. Let alone, be stuck on the other side of the world in charge of a frothing loud and hyperactive Small for ten days, with not even a sniff of another responsible adult to take the slack. But we did, and it's done. And it's been really weird being home. Japan is the only place that less-than-stable 20-something me would've easily spontaneously gotten on a plane and never returned from, and I'm feeling the pull still even as a semi-conscious semi-adult 30-something, so it must have been decent. We've acquired this cute little mama-Small delusion where we'll still faux plan a day exploring the suburbs, like we're waltzing around bustling Ueno r

Day 5- Christmas: Suits, gin-sweats and Christmas pyjamas

What other day can you justify spending the whole day in pyjamas? We've gone full on British with it today, cue odd looks from a hotel full of conference attendees (a conference, on Christmas Day?!) in the restaurant, which is getting far more luxurious looking by the day. There’s a distinct increase in the food which cannot be named, but I’m uncertain if its for the benefit of the Tits-and-Teeth and Suits clicking and murmuring in disgust at Small as she's quite vocally rejecting anything to eat. My new game, meet the shameful stares of the ‘my-child-would-never-do-thats’ with the same unabashed defiance of the toddler that so disturbs the enjoyment of their carefully portioned continentals, so as not to stain their perfect pearly whites or set them off-balance from their skyscraper Carvellas. It’s rather effective, may try this back at home. The electric piano is adorned with executive looking flyers (still disconnected) and we pile through the hoards of First-class sc

Sayōnara Japan! Our last day in this wonderful place 🇯🇵

It's midday, guess I did need that sleep, the classical cat music blurring through my brain still as I jolt awake thinking I've missed the flights. Small's been waiting patiently and decided on the one of two outfits I left her and I've wrenched myself out of bed. I surprise her with a little visit to the rooftop terrace where she's wowed by the views, as am I, with the Tokyo Sky tree clearly visible in the background and skyscraper after skyscraper lacing the vast heights that we're surrounded by. Off we set walking to make something of the day and we find her much-loved chicken sticks for brunch. We then head to Harajuku to visit the Meiji-Jingu shrine, after 3 visits that left us no time to do so and I'm extremely glad that we did make it. The huge Torii gates beckoning us towards the shrine are set atop a backdrop of ancient reaching trees and beautiful woodland area. It's so elaborately decorated with masses of gold edging and old dark wood imma

Mirth and crumbly cheese

Search This Blog