Taxi trips great and small

TAXI TRIPS, the ones that stuck out

Ah, taxis have given us the most courteous, and simple delivery to destinations, and then some.

We would have had more than 250 perfectly normal taxi trips, these are the ones below that are a wee bit different.

Oh, in Japan please DO NOT tip. However, if you like your taxi driver and there is some change due, you can humbly suggest that they might like a coffee later ?

And as with many of the posts on this blog, I do a rough convert from YEN to AUD, and I translate into English what is usually a combination a simple single English word or two, a Japanese word and a gesticalatory gesture.  

SEASIDE TOWER PLEASE     

After walking through the beautiful pine grove in Noshiro, we came out on the suburban road and looked for a taxi.  No way usually.

But soon a taxi appeared, and I asked if we could go to the Observation Tower at the seaside.

Wow, this woman was a rally speedster in training. For some reason she backtracked a bit and took us on a dirt pot holed track at a speed that made me think that her taxi was not long for this world.  Bang crash. Bouncing on the seats we were.

I looked at her and she didn't seem concerned in the slightest for the wellbeing of her cab.

I congratulated her on her driving skills, and she gave me a BIG grin.

Strangely but, when we got to the sealed road, she drove slowly.

At the tower, I asked if she could please keep the meter running, as we'd go and climb up to get a good view.

Well, when we came down, and got in the cab, I noticed that the meter was off.  Please turn it on, I entreated.

No. So we were returned to our hotel, and she only charged us for half the trip saying: 'thank you for coming to Noshiro, I hope you enjoyed your time here.'

SHIMIZU GARDENS PLEASE      

We had walked around the Shibata Castle turrets, and then wanted to pop into the Shimizu gardens.

I didn't know how far they were, so we looked for a taxi. And looked and looked. Nought.

So I popped into a dental surgery and asked the receptionist if she would call one for me. Yes, and she did.

Well, Shibata didn't look that busy a town, yet we waited for over an hour. I asked the receptionist if she could try again.

A few minutes later a taxi arrived, and we got in.  

Short trip. The driver went around the corner and stopped and told us to get out. Shocked, I simply said that we only wanted to go to the Shimizu Gardens, yet still we were ordered out of the cab.

Umm. In Japan on the trains and in cabs, you don't hold conversations, and you talk quietly, if at all. And we were not conversing at all.

Maybe I forgot my underarm ??

LARGE METEORITE PLEASE       

Rain often wipes out rails in Japan, and it had also done so south of Kokura.

So, for our desire to see a large meteorite that landed in 578 AD we could only get a train so far, then we needed a way of getting around.

As I also wanted to see the aqua-duct like railway bridge, ride the slope-car and see the large cedar carvings, all a few kilometres from each other, I decided to attempt to charter a taxi.

A tall small shop owner phoned a taxi driver, who agreed to help. I offered the taxi driver $200 for the morning, and he agreed.

Well, after visiting all the desired places, he took us to the closest operating train station.

I hadn't noticed, sitting in the back, but he had left his meter on. And it came to $194. So he said that that would do.  'No way' said I and paid the $200, and thanked him for his time. 

NINJA MUSEUM PLEASE      

Good day to go to the Ninja Museum, I said to myself, on a Monday, without the crowds.

I had done the research and knew which train to catch and where to change trains. 

As I was unsure of using the ticket machine, I went to buy a ticket from the ticket office. The clerk gave me a look and said something in Japanese, but I stood and smiled and said 'two please'. He responded with a point to outside, and said 'bus'.

Now my attitude about holidaying in Japan is that, well, it is an adventure, and if I get lost, so ? I know Japan is safe, and as I always carry a card of my hotel in Japanese, what can go wrong?

We get on the bus and for about forty minutes we went somewhere. The bus stopped, and we were directed to another bus. So, you know, what would we do but get on the other bus ? 

This bus travels for another forty minutes or so, and we are directed off the bus. This amount of time we were on the buses didn't concern me as the train travel to the museum was well over an hour.

We were deposited at a railway station. The clerk in the ticket office said, in effect, 'no trains'. 

'Er' I asked, 'bus to Ninja Museum?' 

'no bus'.

Ah, ....   but look !!  a taxi is parked outside the railway station with the driver sitting inside it.

Goodie goodie.

I went to ask the driver if we could go to the Ninja Museum, and he said, grumpily, 'no' by crossing his arms over his chest. Which is a common Japanese way of saying 'no'. 

I was taken aback, so asked again, to which the taxi driver even more grumpily, said 'NO'.

I went back to the ticket office and asked when the return bus to Tsu would arrive, and got a shrugged shoulder.

This was kind of all very un Japanese. But to be safe we decided against walking around this very small town unless we missed the return bus.

So we sat. And sat, and sat. And sat a while.

So much so I risked the wrath of the taxi driver, who was also sitting, sitting, and asked a third time if he would ........ .. 'NO'.

Ah, over two hours sitting somewhere waiting, looking at an unwilling taxi, sitting,  was an interesting experience in life.

We eventually got back from whence we came about five / six hours after we left.

I found out the next day at the very helpfuil Tsu Tourist Office, that recent rains had washed away some rail lines.  Wish I had gone and seen them before I ventured out.

Shame the taxi driver wasn't .....  now now Ian, it was a great experience of the existential kind.

IWAWAKI PARK PLEASE     

Maybe I forgot my underarm again ?

The trip from the railway station by taxi was about 10 minutes. When the park came into view, the taxi driver stopped and asked us to get out.

Silly me thinking he couldn't see the park, pointed it out saying, 'it is just there' expecting him to take us to in front of the park.

Uh uh, no way, so we got out and walked.

The park wasn't that much BUT the kilometre long street  nearby was an overhanging cherry blosssom dream.

And a Japanese man asked if he could have his photo with us, after which we strolled on and chatted,

BITCHU TAKEHASHI CASTLE PLEASE     

Ah, great, the taxi driver took us from the railway station to this wee car park in the hills. He didn't say "boo" once. 

I saw a public telephone booth, so I asked for his card, so I could call him after our castle tour.

He handed us the card, we thanked him, and gave him the fare. 

Then his face lit up with the most beautific smile, as his finger pointed up, and he said "700 metres".

Oh. 

And so it was. A good stroll up for a couple in their sixties. Being passed by Japanese in their eighties.

Going up wasn't the problem, puff puff, rather coming down on a steep side path, my hard souled boots wanted to constantly slip, to where there was no guard rail.

It took us much longer coming down as I took each step ever so carefully as I clung on to Rick. 

And then, well, aren't public telephones the same all over the world ? Could it be that difficult ?

Eventually we got the taxi to come, and was I dishevelled ? or what ?  for he had a smile all the way back to the railway station.

KARATSU RAILWAY STATION PLEASE   

After seeing Karatsu from the mountain observatory, then walking through the pine grove, it was time to catch a train back to Tosu. 

It was too far to walk to the railway station, so we had to hail a taxi.

Ah, it was easy getting a taxi to the pine grove from the observatory, as the latter was a tourist site with a taxi stand.

But the pine grove was not really considered a tourist site, .... oh. 

Taxis ???? Nuh.

Now why on earth would there be two Jehovah's Witesses standing out in front of a pine grove ?

On their A - frame there was a picture of the latest edition of WATCHTOWER. Jehovah's magazines look the same all over the world I could see.

I approached the couple and told them that some of their bretheren would visit me monthly and leave a copy of The Watchtower, or  Awake ! Oh, and 'would you mind terribly calling a taxi for us ?'

See, be nice to the witnesses  for you never know when they will come in handy.

OWADA HOTEL PLEASE         

Ah, Japanese is a different language, yes, yes, it is.

Japanese has what I shall call 'double vowels'. So it is not pronounced Knee-gata (Niigata), rather  Knee-ee-gata.

At Fukui railway station, we got in a taxi, and I asked for Owada Hotel please and received a derr ? what ? where ? look.

Although I had the name of the hotel written in Japanese, I was not to be defeated. Surely my pronunciation is not THAT bad.

The word Owada is actually spellt with a double 'o'. Not to be pronounced like 'oo' in moose, rather to be pronounced like a longer 'oh'.

So I says to the driver 'OH~~wada hotel please'.

derr ? what ? where ?

I had made the 'oh' sound too long perhaps.

Then came:  Owada, Oh~~~~~wada, crisp O-wada, Oooh-wada.... and after sending the poor Taxi driver nuts, eventually the correct length 'oh-wada' with the 'oh' the same length as if you just got a joke five minutes after everyone else.

He smiled, and off we went to our hotel.

GOOD SMALL INEXPENSIVE SUSHI RESTAURANT PLEASE         

Go with the flow.

We stayed on the 11th floor of the hotel overlooking Ritsurin Park.

One night we walked out of the hotel and hailed a cab. 

This absolutely aunty mame character, a 70 to 80 year old vital vibrant bright red lipsticked driver picked us up. 

In appalling Japanese I asked her to take us to a small, good cheap sushi restaurant. 

OK, and off we went. Driving to the outer limits of time and space, she merrily spoke in Japanese. 

We had no clue what she said, but I made encouraging noises, ohs and ahs. 

My other half for some unfathomable reason in a soto voice said he wanted to get out at the next traffic lights, if they were to appear. 

No, this is a ride I wanted to have. 

After I don't know, fifteen, twenty minutes, lipstick pulled up and the back taxi door opened. 

Lipstick got out too and bekonned us to follow her. We went inside a small restaurant with an old chef. And three old men sitting at the bar drinking sake. 

Lipstick said something to the chef, waved at us and left. 

The chef brought a tattered menu in Japanese, so I simply asked for some tuna sushi for me and a variety for scaredy cat.  And a bottle of sake please.

Ah that night. The three other elderly customers swivelled their bottoms, and we all kampie-ed ( cheers! ) our sake and joked away the night. You really can spend a night talking, gesticulating, laughing, with people only understanding some. 

When we got up to leave, the chef motioned that we should sit and drink. He made a phone call. 

After about 10 minutes lipstick appeared all smiles and, after paying a measly $70 to the restaurant, we went off with the driver to our hotel. She then refusing to take the fare! 

Oh the sushi was absolutely close to the best we have ever had. 

Takamatsu taxis.  Go with the flow. 

THAT AUTOMATIC BACK LEFT DOOR

The back left door of taxis in Japan, do not open and close automatically, they are controlled by the driver, ...... ...... 

Ah, another case of no underarm ?

Boarding, er, attempting to board in our latest trip, you know, lowered head goes in first, well, maybe it was my hair style ? for the door closed on my bottom, legs still outside.

I did let out a mild shriek, to which the driver responded by pushing the open button.

Showing an un Japanese sign of irritation, I didn't let the driver off.  "I beg your pardon" I said, yet he didn't back down with an apology.

Thank goodness it was a short trip. This driver missed out the unusual version of tipping for taxi drivers,  as, when the change comes over the back seat, the passenger says, "coffee eh ?" with a smile and a raised eyebrow, and the driver smiles and says "thank you very much". 

SISTER BOYS HAVE A GREAT TAXI  DRIVER

After eating at a nice large sushi train restaurant in the suburbs, we hailed a cab.

Well, I didn't have fish net stockings on, nor do I wear make-up.

Yet, after a short time the driver started asking questions.

'Where are you from ?'   That was simple enough.

'Where are the wives ?'

'Are you married ?'

'Do you have a girlfriend ?'

'Do you live together ?'

And then came the best, the real beauty: 'Are you sister boys?'

I don't know why I didn't just answer 'yes', but I had a slight thought that he may be a monster psychopath, so I dithered.

He wasn't a sociopath either, but he guessed we were indeed sister boys, so took us past the gay club that was near our hotel, and said it opens at 10pm.

The gay club was very un gay looking , with no signage, no bright lights.

Ah so sad we couldn't go and have a drink with our perceptive driver. 

When in Japan, I get up at 4.30 - 5.00, and then we walk around so much that I am in bed asleep by 8.30.

Must go back one day for a drink and hope that driver has his night off.

OBUSE PAINTED CEILINGS

We asked for the taxi driver's card after being dropped off at the Hokusai Museum. (Hokusai is the chappie who created the well known blue tsunami wave picture)

There are a few temples in Obuse with beautiful ceilings pained by Hokusai. They unfortunately are a wee distance from each other, so after a strolling kilometre or so, we decided to call the cab.

As my Japanese is perfect whilst it stays behind my eyes, as soon as I open my mouth nought comes out except blabbering imbecilia. So Rick called, and asked to be taken to our last listed painted temple ceiling in Obuse.

We were taken to the temple, and then walked toward the front opening only to find the cleaning ladies is full swing.  Bugger !  Oh well, after sneaking a wee peak, we returned to the kind taxi. One of the cleaners approached, puffed, and apologised. Appreciating the fact that we came to her town to see the sights, she beckoned us to follow her.  She lead us over the freshly washed floor, to around a corner where the view of the ceiling was best. One could but sigh/ gasp in pleasure.  Such beautiful art work.

After a bit, we thanked the lady profusely, bowed and headed back to the patient taxi, whose driver gave a smile of appreciation at what had occurred. 

KOBE EARTHQUAKE MUSEUM PLEASE    

I said to the taxi driver in Japanese, using the words translated singularly meaning: 'Kobe Earthquake Museum'.

Now the large informative exhibition place for earthquake facts and stories in Kobe, is actually called, using the words translated singularly: 'Disaster Prevention (for the ) future hall'.

So, after asking the driver to take me to the 'Kobe Earthquake Museum' and receiving a derr? what? where ? look, I showed the driver my notes, in Japanese,  which said 'Kobe Earthquake Museum'.

The driver looked at me even more perplexed,  derr?  what ? where ?

So he ended up taking us to a very small green lawned place which had a plaque thanking the international aid given to Kobe after the earthquake.

It was raining, but we paid and got out, then walked around for a couple of hours not finding the 'Disaster Prevention (for the ) future hall'.

BUT we had an umbrella.

I just thought, my failed request could be simply explained with the following example:

A Bulgarian couple had heard of the dinosaur exhibition at the Museum Of Contemporary Art in Sydney. To be clever, they wrote in their notes 'Modern (their dictionary said contemporary meant modern) Museum for Dinsoaurs', showed it to the driver and then couldn't understand how the Sydney taxi driver didn't know where to go. For there is no Modern Museum for Dinsoaurs in Sydney.

Ah, so there is a lesson maybe.

There are so many many more examples of assistance from taxi drivers than other,  so just make sure you put your underarm on so you don't get booted out of their cabs.