Arrive Without Travelling.

Back in the 90s, I lived in Tokyo for more than six years. It has now been over twenty‑five years since I last visited, but last week I spent some time there again. It turned into a kind of nostalgia trip, revisiting old neighbourhoods and re‑walking streets I once knew intimately. Not in real life, but using a mouse and keyboard, I tracked down the places where I lived, worked, and simply spent time.

The house I lived in for most of those years has gone, replaced by a skyscraper. The flat I moved into after that is still there, although it took me a while to find it. The neighbourhood is not laid out as I remember it, yet the buildings do not look new enough to have been built in the past fifty years, so I suspect that is memory at work. The flat I lived in after that has also gone, replaced by newer apartments.

The buildings where I worked are all still standing. One of the companies is now out of business, and my former office is used for something else. The other two offices remain, but the company later reduced its footprint, so they are no longer occupied by my ex‑employer.

I also looked up restaurants, places I used to visit with friends. All my favourites seem to have disappeared, although I did find some of the ones I visited less regularly. The same goes for shops. Many are different now, though some areas have retained their feel, while others are barely recognisable.

The pockets of Old Tokyo have gone. Even then they were small pockets, but places that had remained largely unchanged since the 1950s. Dark wooden buildings, tatami floors, sliding paper doors. I lived in one of them for four years and feel privileged to have done so. There were times it felt magical, moments when it seemed I had been transported into the past. Times I will never be able to revisit.

Societies move on. Cities develop, change, and adapt. The old is no longer always practical, and I understand that. I really do. And yet the pull of nostalgia is strong.

If I could visit Old Tokyo, the Tokyo I knew, just for one day, I would be over the moon.

Lost in Translation?

During the 90s, I lived in Tokyo for around six years in total. First for one year, then after a year back in Australia, back for another five.

It was a great experience, a wonderful time to be in Japan. I made a lot of friends, working with teachers from around the world. We worked all day, socialised after work, and mostly got on very well. There were a lot of transients, young people working to make money to fund the next leg of their adventure, but there were also those we considered "lifers".

Those were the days before the internet was a thing, and so sadly I never really managed to keep in contact with many of my friends.

The last school I worked at was the exception. It was a small Berlitz school in Shimo-Kitazawa, and the core staff there hardly changed for the four years I was there. For the most part, we're all still in touch, and some of us have even caught up occasionally.

Last night I was feeling nostalgic, trying to remember names and faces, and wondering what happened to them all. I'm sure I have photos, but unfortunately most of them are currently in storage.

My first teaching job was with Nova in Otsuka, a suburb of Tokyo near Ikebukuro. I worked with Susan, a Canadian, and Heidi and Tim - both Americans. I am still in touch with Heidi, but I do wonder what happened to Tim and Susan. (and yes, I recall their family names).

I don't remember many students there. There was one lady who I think was a reporter, and a trained opera singer. One night I convinced her to sing. She only let one, short note out, but it was intense and I remember the office staff all jumping and looking up. She also managed to get me tickets to the filming of Naruhodo The World, a TV show hosted by Beat Takeshi.

Another student was a huge fan of Mr Big, and gave me one of their CD singles when I left. Another gave me a cassette tape of the Tokyo Ska Paradise Orchestra. I hope you're still enjoying your music. 

When I returned a year later, I started working at Nova in Ueno. That is where I met the Doctor, a good friend who remains in contact. We even manage to catch up every couple of years and hang out. But I lost touch with all the others there. (Canadians) Doug and Sean. (New Zealander) Mel. (Americans) Rick, Dan, Brett. (English) Sian, Ed, Elizabeth(?). (Australian) Harold. There was a Japanese-American guy whose name (I think) might have been John. And many others. All good people, all fun.

What became of you all?

I moved to another Nova school for a short time. I think it might have been Okachimachi - very close to Ueno. I only remember one teacher there. I think she was Australian, and her name may have been Lisa.

I hope you're well.

After that I moved to Berlitz at Shimo-Kitazawa. As I said, I am still in touch with many of the teachers there, and one student. But during training, and visiting other schools, I got to know many more. There was the lady who spent a year living in a tepee and dealing drugs in a previous life, Larry - a keen photographer, and John, whose sister was a famous comedienne in Australia. Paul from South Africa, Juliet from the US, Chris from Canada, Oliver who loved cycling, and a few others.

Wouldn't it be great to catch up and reminisce?

And then so many students. Many of these I remember. Kumiko, who was embarrassed when she gave me giri-chocolate. The TV director, who gave me ringside seats to the Sumo and went to America to study film-making. The husband and wife dentist team, the two lovely ladies who took me out for lunch when they heard I was leaving. So many whose first names I forget. Many of these I remember their family names, but I'm leaving those off this page.

Ah what a time it was. And if you remember me from Tokyo days, whether through language schools or elsewhere, please get in touch. It would be wonderful to hear from you.

Japan.

I spent six years living in Japan - four of those with a Japanese family. I met my wife there. My god-daughter lives there with her family. Her parents are close friends that we haven't seen in far too long.

A lot of the media is focussing on the unfolding nuclear crises.

I have been touched by the people around me who have asked whether I have any friends missing in the disaster. I don't.

My thoughts are with the Japanese people.