Business Trip Pictures

A few pictures from a business trip I did a while ago. How long ago? The guy in the last picture sports a woolen muffler, that's how long. Film photography is a lot of fun, but when time is tight it really takes forever to go from film roll to uploaded image file.

I finally picked a new book to read, by the way, and started on "Drip of Death". It's not Miyabe Miyuki of course, but so far it's a well-crafted, fast-paced mystery; the first victim is already dying on page one, and the second body appears after another 70-odd pages. If I hadn't already seen the TV-drama, I'd fear the hospital would be eerily depopulated by the end of the book. And it's not Miyabe Miyuki difficult either. This one won't take more than a few months to get through — much less if I take a few solid hours to read now and again.

Early morning. Really early — the sun's not up and the subway has only just started running. The normally crowded Shinsaibashi shopping street is empty and echoing. The only people around are first few early-morning commuters and the last sloshed stragglers from the previous night.

Get a seat on the left side of the morning Shinkansen from Osaka to Tokyo, and you'll get a good view of Mount Fuji if you're lucky with the weather. The train really is a little too fast to get a good picture without blurring the foreground a bit.

Shinagawa, Tokyo. A large cluster of modern high-rises around the station, but the buildings quickly become older, smaller and more run-down as you move towards the coast. Kyoto University have offices and seminar rooms here; very convenient for research team meetings and things like that.

The meetings are over, it's already dark outside and it's time to catch a train home. Here Shinagawa stretches out towards the sea in the background.

It's night, I'm finally back in Osaka and I catch a late train on Midōsuji subway line. This guy, another long-distance commuter, looked the way I felt: a bit tired, a bit worn, but happy to be on his way home.

Sweden

At long last, pictures and notes from our vacation in Sweden this September. Still stuck writing for work, so I'll mostly post images with captions and short fragments. Less to write, less to read. Everybody wins!

Stockholm city hall. The Nobel Price award dinner is held here every December.

We flew with Finnair from Osaka to Stockholm via Helsinki. It's the most convenient route by far, and a good choice for any destination in northern Europe. On the way to Helsinki I saw Princess Toyotomi. It's a recent movie set in Osaka, based around the idea that a heir of the Toyotomi clan escaped the sacking of Osaka castle some 400 years ago, and the descendants are still secretly living in Osaka as royalty of a secret "Osaka nation".

It's a charming adventure movie. There's some fun characters and an implausible but creative story line. It sags a bit toward the end though; I guess they didn't know how to tie it all up. The main pleasure for me was the city itself; large parts of it is set right around where we live — at the Karahori market street, Osaka castle, the City hall and so on. Fun movie, so see it if you get the chance. Anyway…

Skandia, a movie house in Stockholm, still with the classical logo.

Vasagatan, Stockholm.

We stayed at a hotel right next to the train station. Very convenient, what with all the bags and stuff we brought. First night we ate at a Belgian place along Vasagatan called Duvel Café. Pretty good food and a huge selection of Belgian beers seems to make the place very popular for younger professionals to go after work. I kept hearing snippets about cloud storage, Android programming and the next new shiny Apple gadget from the people around us. The people at the next table over were enduring a dinner sales pitch about some cross-platform persistent communications library. In a different life, one where I never went to Japan, I might have ended up as one of the regulars here.

I finally got my plankstek. Steak, sauce and mashed potatoes on a wooden board, finished in a hot oven. This restaurant had such huge portions — that, and I'm no longer used to eating so much — that I had to leave almost half of the food.

Sushi in Stockholm. Specifically, sushi in a cheap Thai restaurant next to the station. Hey, it's all Asian, right?

I wanted to try ramen while in Stockholm. The place I wanted to go to was quite expensive; worse, it was open only open for dinner. Ramen is cheap lunch food to me, so we gave up on that and had a nigiri-sushi lunch set at Kungshallen food court instead. Not bad but not great; the rice was a little undercooked and the flavours weren't very exciting. The miso soup was good, though, and they managed to serve it together with the sushi, unlike the sushi place we tried in Paris last year.

Norstedts is one of the largest publishers in Sweden, and one of the oldest. Their head office "palace" on Riddarholmen island is arguably one of the best addresses in Sweden.

We're leaving Stockholm by train. As are these uniformed, supposedly hard-to-see gentlemen, apparently catching up on paperwork while waiting for a connecting train. There is no way to avoid it is there; I bet Genghis Khan would have conquered the rest of the world as well, but after taking Asia he was held up by piles of paperwork that just couldn't wait…

On our way to Borlänge and my parents we stopped by Uppsala to visit friends. The town (an old university city rival to my own Lund) has been blessed with a new concert hall. It's a popular place, apparently, with a good lunch restaurant on street level (and again with huge portions). It's also nicely photogenic. Here you can see the cathedral, the castle and the university library reflected in the top floor corridors.

Borlänge is an industrial town with a large steel mill and a paper mill, located right in the middle of some of the most beautiful woodland area of the country.

One benefit of small towns like this is, nature is close everywhere you go (OK, so it's not always a benefit, exactly - see "TBE"). The Dalälven river goes right through town, and there's ots of small ponds and inlets like this along the banks. This spot along the river is a leisurely ten minutes by foot from the town center.

Another benefit of small, rural towns: plenty of space. This back yard with a barn or storage shed in the background is right in town, a few blocks away from the main road and close to the pond above. You would have to be very wealthy — and very ostentatious — indeed to have a place like this in, say, Osaka city.

It was good to be back in Sweden for a few days. I got to hear my own language for a change, and spend some time in my own culture. But it did feel a little strange for much of the time. I guess culture and language — slang, catchphrases, current events — is beginning to diverge enough from my own remembered experience that it starts to be noticeable and become just a little disorienting. It's like hearing a new version of an old favourite tune that you haven't heard in years. Not worse than you remember, just a little different.

More pictures in the Flickr set.

The Comfort Principle

Here's a neat way to think about things: spend your resources where you spend your time. He calls it "the comfort principle".

So, if you — like me — spend much of your day in front of your computer, then don't be afraid so spend money to get a really good one that will give you a minimal amount of problems and frustrations. I rarely listen to music on the other hand, so it would make little sense for me to get an expensive pair of speakers. And it'd make no sense at all for me to get a worse computer in order to get better speakers. Somebody who always listens to music and uses a computer only occasionally may take the opposite choice.

Of course, you have to look at the larger picture and be sure you're not optimizing the wrong thing. The author takes an office chair as an example: better to get a good, comfortable chair than a cheap one if you're going to sit all day. But what if you chose not to sit all day long instead? A cheap chair and a desk that lets you stand may be better still. And instead of a really good laptop, what I need is perhaps a job that doesn't put me in front of a computer every waking moment?

Kansai airport departure lounge. Airports and airplanes are exciting and memorable, but that's not where you spend most of your time during a trip.

This thinking doesn't just apply to buying stuff. I have a belt. It's a very nice, brown leather belt with a plain metal buckle that I got for my birthday from Ritsuko some years ago. It's sturdy and simple, and it looks good with any clothes I have. I like it very much.

However, the buckle always, inevitably sets off the airport scanner alarms. Whenever I fly I have to remove the belt and put it on the conveyor belt. And as I've been losing weight I really need a belt to hold my pants up. I stand there in front of the X-ray scanner, juggling belt, computer, phone, change, keys and carry-on bag with one hand while clutching at my jeans with the other. I'd drop something on the floor and scramble to pick it up while the people in line behind me start becoming restless. It's just a matter of time before I screw up and literally drop my pants in public.

So why do I use that belt on travel then? It's the comfort principle. I spend a total of, oh, five minutes or so per round trip valiantly trying to avoid a wardrobe malfunction in security. I spend around 3000 minutes of a three-day trip with my belt securely holding my clothes in place, and looking damn good doing so. I'd much rather optimize my wardrobe for the 3000 minutes of my trip than for the five minutes I spend in security.

If you see somebody obviously ill-dressed or badly packed for the security control, remember that they're probably not stupid. They may just know how to prioritize right.

Back Home

I'm back home. The cold I got a few days ago has not relented; no more fever and the throat isn't sore any more but now I drag around an irritating cough instead. It'll pass. I developed the two rolls of 35mm Delta 400 that I took during the trip yesterday, and I'll start scanning the stuff today. I experienced my first development disaster - being tired and sick is not conducive to your attention span - so one of the rolls looks iffy, with a few creases and a fair amount of scratches¹. I hope most images are salvageable, though I know some are not.

Monorail station in Naha.

My flight left at five in the afternoon. I went to Naha airport right in the morning, checked my bag, then took the very convenient monorail into the center. A place without rail transport just doesn't feel like a city to me; the monorail really improves my impression of Naha, which otherwise feels like a pleasant and a little sleepy town.

Ryukyu-ya cafe is a couple of blocks away from the main street. Excellent coffee and a cool, silent, summery atmosphere. I spend half an hour there; had I had more time I could have sat there for most of the day. Good place.

Kokusai street is the main tourist street, with lots of stores selling Awamori, t-shirts and other omiyage. Go there to get souvenirs, then step off to the side streets on either side where you find a quiet town of small shops, sun-baked alleyways and small parks.

A hilly park just off Kokusai street. This guy seemed to be working over lunch.

A set lunch of Okinawan soba and a mini plate of taco-rice. The soba.. not bad, much better than I remember having a couple of years ago. But it does seem Ishigaki-style soba really is different, and more agreeable to me than the Okinawan one. Taco-rice is always good. You want to make it? Easy: just make the stuff you need for Mexican tacos, then skip the taco shells and serve it on a plate over a bed of Japanese rice. Yummy!

Vivid colors; that's my lasting impression of Naha and of Okinawa.

--

#1 Black and white development is easy. It is in fact so ridiculously forgiving that as long as you at least vaguely follow the general directions you're bound to get recognizable images. You need to really work at it to fail completely. People have been experimenting with urine, vitamin C, Paracetamol and instant coffee as developing agents with good success.

But if you want good images, consistently and reliably, then you do need to pay attention to detail. I didn't, this time, with predictable results.

Yaeyama

Our trip to the Yaeyama islands, in pictures. The weather wasn't great - usually cloudy and occasional rain - so we didn't get any bright, shiny white-sand-blue-skies type of pictures. That doesn't matter; we had mild climate with perfect temperatures, and the sea and the jungle-covered islands became if anything more appealing with the sense of mystery and drama tropical rains brought with them.

Taketomi

Taketomi is mostly known for its quaint village atmosphere, and for its beaches. Kondoi beach is packed with people on sunny days; when it's raining you get it mostly to yourself.

Taketomi is small and flat, so the preferred way to get around is by bicycle. You can rent a bike almost anywhere, and if you stay overnight the hostel has loaner bikes for its guests as well.

Shisa like this one adorn many buildings in Okinawa, and were traditionally thought to ward off evil spirits.

"Taruria" is one of a number of restaurants on Taketomi, and is frequented by locals as well as tourists. The fried shrimp set and the goya stir-fry were both delicious.

The local tombs have a unique style that reflects the local burial customs. Whole clans are interred in the same tomb, so you need plenty of space.

Taketomi village is crisscrossed by sand and gravel streets bounded by low stone walls, all overflowing with tropical greenery. The atmosphere remains relaxing even when the streets fill up with tourists on bicycles.

Bad weather often means good scenery. This pier is just north of Kondoi beach on Taketomi, and completely abandoned when it rains.

Iriomote

The weather is unpredictable. We had everything from rain to sunshine, often within the same hour. The sea does look better in wet weather.

The beaches tend to be shallow, and the tide is very obvious.

We went snorkelling and beach-combing just outside the village. Here Ritsuko has captured me having a Cousteu-moment.

Snorkelling was an amazing experience. We didn't even get fins, and never ventured far from the shore. I had a blast simply floating on top of the reef edge, observing the variety of corals and small lifeforms and waiting for the fish to line up for a picture. Or we walked along the rocky shore, poking at the driftwood and junk from around the world and observing the tadpoles and tiny fish bustling in the shallow low-tide pools.

Clownfish are absolutely everywhere. Anywhere you find a sea anemone you can be sure there's be a few clownfish looking out at you.

We brought a Fuji recyclable camera, an underwater version of *this*. The camera really was a positive surprise. I expected little more than a grainy, unfocused, blue-tinted mess. What we did get (after scanning and postprocessing) are pictures that are quite decent for use on the web like this, or for making small prints.

This. This is the whole reason to come here. We were wading along the beach to the small cape, where the bottom suddenly dropped and the coral reef began. And it was like being dropped head-first into a BBC nature production; a riot of colorful fish, corals, anemones, invertebrates... David Attenborough swimming by for some running commentary would have made a perfect fit.

I'll need to get fins next time. Probably open-heel ones, so I can wear boots underneath for wading along the coast. I'll also need a better underwater camera at some point, but that's difficult. Many digital compact cameras seem to get worse results than the Fuji; a DSLR with underwater housing is much too big and much too expensive; and if there are any housings for compact film cameras I can't find them. The Nikonos V seems like a good option, but is fairly expensive and seems high maintenance.

The rivers in Iriomote (it's a big island and has several sizeable rivers) are lined with dense mangrove forests.

The river and jungle tour was fun. You go to a landing at the mouth of Urauchi river, just a quick ten minutes from Iriomote village and board a tour boat that takes you upriver. From there you walk about half an hour to a viewing platform overlooking the first falls. If you add another twenty or thirty minutes you can reach the Kanbire falls, which is a lot more interesting than the viewing platform. The tour operator allows you to "skip" your scheduled return boat and catch the next one instead. Just be careful you don't miss the last boat.

The river tour ends at this landing, and the footpath to the waterfalls begins.

Now, it is a path, with gravel in places and small bridges for crossing over streams, and all kinds of people, from small children to senior citizens, were happily following it. But it's not a road by any means. It's steep, muddy and wet, and you'll have to climb over largish boulders and across tangled root systems. If you slip in places you'll have several meters to fall down to the riverbed below.

If you rely on a cane to get around, say, or if you have trouble bending your knees then this walk is not for you. And bring good, sensible clothes and shoes - at the landing we saw one heavy guy in shorts, flip-flops and a bagful of beer; and one girl with more fashion than common sense in a frilly skirt and very high heels, and I doubt either of them managed to finish the walk.

The Kanbire falls are not high; a series of low cliffs with the river rushing by. It makes for easy access, and some people were wading and even swimming in spots.

After the tour we grabbed the bus to Iriomote Onsen on the northeast side of the island. Very good - large pool, both outdoor and indoor baths and saunas. There's separate facilities for men and women, and a common bathing area. A perfect place to wash off the mud and relax for a few hours.

Iriomote village on the west coast is tiny; you can walk across it in ten minutes. It does have three beaches within walking distance, a school and a post office, and the islands only Ramen place, run by a diving enthusiast from Tokyo who moved here with his family to be closer to the diving areas. The Ramen is really good, by the way, the kind of place I'd often go to if I lived nearby.

We stayed at Iriomote Island Hotel. It was a pleasant experience; the rooms are quite large and well maintained, and breakfast and dinner (both included) were tasty and plentiful.

As it happens, the 123°45'6.789" longitude runs by the village, and somebody with a very pleasantly geeky personality streak decided it needed a monument - and no monument to geekery is complete without a laser. Every night the green laser shoots up into the sky to mark the path of the longitudinal line. The world needs more stuff like this.

On a clear evening the stars come out. You never see them like this in Osaka.

Ishigaki

Ishigaki city on Ishigaki island is a fair-sized place, about 45 000 people in all. Like most regional cities the economy is evidently not great, but there's a variety of fairly good restaurants and water holes and fishing and diving boat operators seem to be both plentiful and busy. This kind of out-of-the-way place has always had a hard time attracting business, but I keep wondering if something like a software business wouldn't be viable nowadays? Rent and living expenses are low, most business-related communications go over the net, and Kansai and Kanto are both just a few hours away by air should you need to go someplace in person.

Ishigaki harbour is the main transport hub for the island chain. Most travel and just about all freight pass through here. A couple of large freighters connect from Okinawa a couple of times a week, and small freight ships pass back and forth to the other islands every day.

These Roll-On-Roll-Off freighters is the transport lifeline to Taketomi, Iriomote and all the other islands in the area. They seem to bring anything and everything, from heating oil and gasoline to foodstuff to packages to live cattle. It seems a little romantic and a lot of fun to work on such a ship, but the reality is - as always - probably rather mundane.

The harbour-facing side of the city has office and apartment buildings, shopping streets and restaurants. But walk up the other way and you find quiet streets with older, charming single homes.

A small shrine in an overgrown vacant lot.

There's limestone caves in the hills north of the city, and they're open to visitors. There's a good variety of scenery, and it's a really pleasant visit to cool down from the early summer heat.

The caves aren't exactly natural anymore. It's all well lit and the pathway is extensively prepared, with stairs, gravel, railings and head protection. And this being Japan there's plenty of signs and recorded guide messages along the way. But it doesn't get intrusive, and of course it makes for an easier visit.

Ishigaki harbour at dusk. Ferries, diving boats and fishing boats have stopped for the night, and only a seafood restaurant is still open along the waterfront.

Do I want to go here again? Oh yes. Stay for a bit longer than a scant week? Absolutely. It's a bit out of the way, and the flight is relatively expensive, but it's worth it, no doubt at all. The full set is here.