The return from Dhaka

In many ways, the ending is so often like the start and so it was, sort of, when leaving Dhaka.

I arrived at the airport at 0630 as suggested for my 0830 flight to be greeted by lots of people waiting in lines. Previous experience told me that these were not queues in the sense of being one after another [1] [These are called serials in modern Bengali.] but they were all waiting to pass the security to enter the airport building. Dhaka Airport does not, normally, allow non-passengers into the airport terminal so there is a wait to get in and people saying goodbye outside. Once my cousin had cleverly found the queue for foreign passports, labelled as the “staff entrance”, I was able to get in after a little wait and only a few people pushing in front. 

Once past the security scanner, I could not see any signs so I walked forward as far as I could and saw that my check-in desk was B. I had no idea where I, or that, was so took a guess to go left and found D. I kept going until I found a queue that seemed to be for Qatar but I asked to check.

"No, this is to Dubai",

I checked with someone else and it was to Doha when I asked them. I chanced it and waited in line as it was heading to the Qatar Air counters - and it was actually a line as there was a woman telling passengers which desk to go to and giving them the departure card to fill in. This was relatively organised although the line still moved slowly and it had taken me 30 mins to get to the back of the line - so it was 0700. The desks themselves were a little bit of a scrum but then as I got closer, the woman just walked off. She didn't return, nobody replaced her and the queue stood still. It was about 0730 at this point and the guy in front would not move without her say so (he seemed a little worried so was unlikely to be a regular traveller) and the desks were not empty anyway. Someone else moved and then so then did I to the desks. Here, they spent quite a long time weighing the bags and talking so I got there at 0740. I explained to the desk that I would like a window seat and that I had tried online check-in but the mobile app was stopping (as had happened before). He admonished me for not being there at 0630 to which I said that I had come at 0630 and then he said I was lucky to be getting on at all - this with a fairly large line still to be checked in. Lucky? He then weighed my bags and told me to go to immigration quickly, which I did. He did not listen to my request at all.

Dhaka airport is all about regular micro-aggressions and it is tiresome. It is really tiresome. After the pushing and shoving to enter the airport itself, the queue for immigration was short but, of course, not without its own micro-aggressions as a few people pushed in front again to present passports to the officials to be allowed into the passport control. As I reached the front, again, a couple of people came in front of me and as the second was being checked, I said "What is this?" in English. The passenger in front ignored me with his sense of entitlement but the official actually saw this and stopped checking and checked mine instead and told the guy that he'd pushed in. It was a small victory, but you have to take them. Micro-victories are better than none.

Getting into the foreigners' queue for passports, it was quite short and orderly, but of course, this changed when someone pushed in and then when I was called, the official decided to split the line into two for reasons of apparent inefficiency - it was inexplicable. 

My gate was at the opposite side to check-in necessitating a walk across the terminal which seemed a little underplanned for such a small airport. I'm not sure why you wouldn't put the gate nearer the desk when you have so few gates and desks but it might be to appreciate the architectural features. Unlikely, but possible. Sensing a pattern, I assumed at the gate that there would be a queue for some security at which some people would push in front and I was not disappointed. Well, I was still a little bit disappointed but not surprised. Here, I was asked by a man with combat fatigues to take my belt off and keep it separate along with my wallet, phone and laptop. As I got the security belt, another man told me to put it all in the bag. He did this as the other man was telling everyone loudly enough, to separate them. I just wanted to get through so I followed the instructions of whoever was closest...

Not bothering to wait at the gate, I walked through to the plane and the noise made me desire the blissful separation of some headphones. There were a lot of mobile phone conversations taking place and at volumes that were not exactly trying to be discreet. It may be a little unfair to keep commenting on the microaggressions but it really does make a not particularly pleasant journey type even worse when it is not smooth either.

The flight itself was not too eventful but it felt long as I was tired but it wasn't really comfortable enough to sleep (I was also sat somewhere with a little less legroom as the seat in front had the entertainment system under it) so I didn't. I had a single serving next to me but not a friend by any stretch of the imagination. I did have headphones though.

Doha was a quick stop as it was only a little over an hour before the next leg so I pretty much transferred directly to the gate whereupon I was told that my seat had changed again. There were plenty of children travelling, apparently, and so I had been moved from an aisle seat to the worst kind of seat - the middle of a three so no window and no aisle and the engine noise too. And plenty of children.

London was not too faraway now and although my time in Bangladesh had overall been a delight, the flight back seemed wholly appropriate.

London to Dhaka

Bangladesh, like a number of Islamic countries, does not have the same weekend that we have in the UK but actually has Friday and Saturday as the weekend. This is kind of interesting in its own way, but less convenient for me than I'd like - it means a Saturday departure meaning a Sunday arrival just means no weekend at all. Thus, a Friday departure is needed to get some weekend time in. (obviously, this is sort of reversed on return as I can leave on a Sunday and still have a bit of weekend on returning) 

And a Friday night departure would not really work, so I took an extra day off and made my way. 

A morning flight from Heathrow is both a delight and a pain. It is marginally easier and less busy on the tube but still busier than I'd expect, or hope. London is quite busy… I was flying with Qatar Airways and so had a stopover in Doha. Qatar, like so many Middle Eastern countries, is trying hard to reputation launder and other than the obvious sporting methods of holding a World Cup through dubious means, it is also spreading the brand through air travel as Emirates, Etihad, et al are doing. What this means is quite a decent service using new planes at a relatively low price through an airport hub in Doha. I chose a flight on the A380 for reasons covered before but was unable to properly check in before due to technical issues and so was assigned a seat in the middle, which I'm not a fan of. As the flight was full, this was not something that could be changed so I saw the flipside of A380 travel - boarding takes ages. The person at check-in was very pleasant and although I didn't actually complain and just asked if there were other seats available, she did try to accommodate this, albeit unsuccessfully. The flight was at 9am yet boarding was printed on the pass at 8 and they actually started then too. And they needed to with plenty of people and many of them being rather young, it was due to be a noisy leg. 

The flight itself was not too bad as I was fortunate enough to be seated with a very pleasant neighbour - one of the better single-serving friends. As she was on her way to Melbourne from London, she really was in for the long haul but had some experience of the airline and transit so was able to fill me in with some useful info. I reciprocated with, what else but, stories of London changes in popularity and places to visit. Needless to say, the Museum of London was unknown to her. I even managed to talk of social arbitrage as done, in my opinion, by Middle Eastern countries. That wasn't a phrase I expected to use. 

It was a flight that I'd hoped to sleep on but it didn't really happen so I dozed while listening to (previously reviewed) Your Name like a duvet and wished I could sleep. I had about 7 hours to wait in Doha so maybe I could nap there. Or maybe not.

Doha Airport is new and has the modern feel of all the modern airports with the similar colours and feelings. And, similarly to some airports designed for the future, it feels empty and soulless. Having checked a website about long transit times, I was expecting a nice, convenient stop which it was in many ways as there was plenty of seating but I assume, as it was an evening to night break, that it was quiet. Of course there was plenty of shopping opportunities to indulge in. More notable was the internal rail system to go from one end of the terminal to the other - usually done with moving walkways. It is something to remember but I was the only one on it and it seemed a little ostentatious.

After a spot of food, I found a few different places to sit and rest - there was a “quiet room” with reclining chairs which was a bit more comfortable for a lie down. The airport also makes great play of free wi-fi in transit which was pretty handy for checking my boarding time and gate. As I was checking the flight time, I noticed that my seat number had changed. As a result of my comments about my seat being assigned automatically, I had been told that there was a chance of an upgrade on the Dhaka leg - it seems the chance was not just a placation tactic. 

I went to the gate to confirm and the soft introduction began. The queue was long to get in and completely not a queue. Not at all. I went to the desk/priority boarding to check but then one person just went straight in front of me to the desk and then another stood in front. This was at the “priority” bit where I was asking a question, but maybe they took it more literally. Waiting at the gate after this, the introduction continued as staff explained to different people that “you can't do that” as they pushed the door or tried to go past boundaries. It does not look like a fun job. I've always wondered whether I just thought that Bengali people talk louder because I understand it but I am now pretty sure that isn't the reason and the noise of people just having conversations was like listening to arguments. 

The upgrade was very fortunate and insulated me from the noise and frustration that seemed certain earlier. In terms of the difference, of course the space was far greater and the service was very good with better food. I did not, however, have the benefit of a single-serving friend with whom to be convivial so there was that. The seat itself, with reclining flat and the screen to keep you entertained, reminded me very much of the lounge in a capsule hotel - but not the one that aped airline cabins. Also, people were sleeping and one particular person snoring was louder than all the kids on the first leg... 

Landing at Dhaka was uneventful but the airport was not uneventful - it never is. Passport control was relatively short due to the fact that I got out fairly quickly but they spent some time doing paperwork and I'm pretty certain they took my picture without telling me when or where to look. Once past the first guy where I feigned ignorance of the language, there was another queue to give the immigration form to someone to be let out. This actually was a queue as it was a thin corridor but of course that didn't stop people pushing. Baggage reclaim made me feel pangs of nostalgia as it seemed unchanged from decades back and so looked a little tired. I don't mind it as it feels quite honest but it must hinder foreign investment when this is the first view of the country. There were a number of ripped and broken sections on the belt. I could not see how the process was managed but I waited at the baggage reclaim belts from the point suitcases came out and a full one hour after the first suitcases plopped onto the belt, I was still empty handed along with what seemed like most passengers. The belt itself was also empty as the baggage was brought out in instalments and with nice gaps between them so that the belt would empty (but not fill) a few times. I think I was in the fifth instalment which was after more than an hour.

It was frustrating so I thought it best to change the music I was listening to from the dark, dank electronica that I had been listening to to something a little more calming. As I had people waiting for me outside, I collected and moved on fairly briskly and then was greeted by what looked like a queue. After a few metres, it looked like two queues and then a few more metres later, three queues. And then, it looked like a scrum of people from all directions with trolleys and bags. All the baggage needed to then go past customs and was being scanned so all of the passengers then had to go through a single gate in order to be processed. With nobody queueing properly and tension high, this was not a pleasant experience but i eventually got near the front after thirty minutes or so with only a few bumps to my legs. As I went to the scanner, I noticed most were loading onto the luggage scanner and some were walking past - neither group seemed to be spoken to so I went past the scanner. Then, a man asked me where I had travelled  from and with the answer "London" I was waved through. London is such a great answer, isn't it? Having landed at 10am, I left just before 1pm and the airport is not that busy. You could say it was eventful, but maybe it wasn't eventful enough.

Something that I am not particularly used to is being received at the airport, either at home or away, but this was due to happen - about an hour or two earlier. Apparently my cousins that were meeting me were not sure if I had left or not but had stayed around and greeted me which was a huge relief. It was longer than normal, and longer than they expected but still within the bounds of the possible. I grew to learn that in Dhaka, everything was. 

I was happy to be collected by some cousins when I got outside at Dhaka airport for had that not happened, then whatever could happen next?

Bangladesh after some time

Where are you from then?
London
No, where are you really from?

This is a conversation that I've had in my head for years but, in reality, it has never happened in this way^[1]. The second question is always phrased much more carefully than this, with a clear interest in my background rather than the accusation of not being from London/UK. As I have said before, I am comfortable with the answer of London and I am fortunate to be able to say that.

When I do get the more carefully phrased question, the answer is usually

"My parents are from Bangladesh"

Which they are^[2].

When I was younger, I went to Bangladesh quite a few times, every 3 years or so up to age 11 and I have plenty of positive, wonderful memories which are etched into my mind and have clearly shaped me. But, since then, I have only been twice more and the last time I went was 11 years ago, via Hong Kong (as mentioned briefly). That particular trip was a strange one in many ways as I also saw a lot of people from the UK who happened to be there too (including my parents) for the first time in a while too so it was not quite the same experience - there was a dual layered reunion to it. It was, however, the first time that I travelled alone to Bangladesh and so it was also the first time I entered alone.

I have travelled to a few more places since then so I think I can take a more rounded, and comparative, view to Bangladesh now so I am looking forward to it although I cannot consider it as a normal holiday as I am not sure how much control I'll have within the week.

I didn't massively enjoy visiting Bangladesh the last time I went, as positive as seeing my family was, the country as a whole didn't leave a positive impression on me. Navigating parts of the social and actual infrastructure myself gave me a different view to that when I had my parents do much of that for me. The flight from Hong Kong to Dhaka was the first blast of Bangladesh that I had had in a while and the flight reminded me of the fact. The passengers were, as a group of passengers, a little more brusque and there was a greater sense of guards being put up by the cabin crew. This was something that I had always noticed but it was a stark difference from Japanese passengers on the previous flight to the Bengali ones on this. It was a plane with two aisles and I was sitting in a middle seat of the side/window grouping. The man next to me appeared initially to be travelling alone. Initially. Once the flight had been going for a while, I noticed that he was travelling with a woman and young girl (not the same ethnicity so I assumed wife, also based on interactions but I did not ask and confirm.) This seemed odd to me but he did not seem bothered as he still conversed with them and another man while at his seat. Which would not be too bad across the aisle, but he did so across the aisles. That isn't really possible quietly or with consideration. Luckily he did not have that much to say except to admonish his (assumed) wife when the little girl cried. When we were served food, he finished eating while others were being served and asked the crew to take it away. They explained that they had to serve everyone else first and he complained. When they went to continue serving, he decided to loudly say to them that he was going to leave the tray on the floor and put his seat into the reclined position. It struck me as more than a bit selfish. Flights can often be the soft introduction to what you'll get when you land, and so it proved.

It was also, the first time that I had left alone too and this was on a flight to Hong Kong, an 18 hour delayed flight to Hong Kong^[3]. This delay meant that the airline gave me a hotel to stay the night in with other passengers - another interesting journey into a Bangladesh I hadn't seen. The Hotel Sonargaon was pleasant enough but it was not always clearly explained what was happening and I think especially tricky for those that did not understand Bengali. I befriended some Japanese men that looked a little dazed and confused and explained the procedure but it was another insight into the social infrastructure. Had I not done that, I am not sure anyone else would have noticed. The men found themselves in Bangladesh as the were driving around the world and flew back home every so often to see their family. It sounded hellish to me, but they seemed to like it.

My last memory of Bangladesh, and the one that sticks with me, is the passport control as I left. I handed over the passport, and I paraphrase as it was not in English.

Officer opens and looks at passport and asks:

Hello, are you married?
Is that in my passport?
No, it isn't. Are you married?
Do you need to know that for passport control?
No. Are you married?
Is there a problem?
No. Have you had a wedding?
No, I am not married.

Officer smiles, looks a bit smug, closes passport and slides the passport to me.

I think it is about time.

This interaction left a mark on Bangladesh for me. I received so much advice from strangers about how to live my life in the UK and Japan and the implication that I was doing it all wrong. Unfortunately, that mark stayed and although there are many instances of it happening with people that had never met me before nor had any experience of living in either the UK or Japan, that was an almost perfect encapsulation of my frustration. Having spent the previous 18 hours in the company of strangers, it ended up being the line under the trip. Underlined.
Maybe that was unfair, but that was how I felt.

In 2005, I was flying from Tokyo via a stop in Hong Kong and so I was, culturally, in a different place to when I've flown from London. I speak with my parents in Bengali (as mentioned in comments on immigration statistics here) and so I do still use the language relatively frequently and am fairly comfortable with it for basic conversations - I'm less comfortable with it for the conversations that I'd like to have with a bit more complexity. But even so, my fluency is not too bad and I can get by. In 2005, it was less active and although I spoke to my parents on the phone^[4], it was clear that the fluency was not there in the same way. Since then, I speak Bengali more frequently and although it is still not at a level that makes me able to express myself, my lack of vocabulary means that I think I end up expressing a more friendly and child-like version of myself. Which is pretty useful actually as it is a a more likeable version.

The theme that runs through 2016 and early 2017 for me is the disconnect between myself and what I thought that the UK was. The fractured relationship that I now feel that I have with the wider UK^[5] has made me wonder whether that is why I'd quite like to visit Bangladesh again - or it could be a function of wanting a little more nostalgia after the success of it in 2016. It was an active decision to go so I hope that they were positive reasons when I dive down into my subconscious - I definitely hope the trip is positive.

I'm really looking forward to seeing my extended family again and what time has done to Dhaka but as a trip, it will be very different to how I usually proceed. Maybe that will be good too - and appropriate as I arguably defined my travel process last time I came to Bangladesh and maybe my method needs an update too. Maybe lots of things need an update.


<sup>1. This Life was a TV series set in London in the 1990’s which I rather enjoyed. It also had a cracking soundtrack which helped. It was about young graduates continuing their university friendships in a shared house while starting their legal careers. One of the characters was an Asian female and there is a specific scene I remember where she is asked by an Asian man where she is from, and he then asks again about where she is really from. She gave the British answer both times, but it sticks in my mind as the first time I remember that slight disconnect of second generation immigration being represented.↩
2. Incidentally, neither was born in Bangladesh as the country did not exist at either time.↩
3. I also ended up missing a day of work due to missing the connection to Tokyo and this was compounded by oversleeping after that for a first day at one school. I was very lucky that it was a school that I already had a decent reputation at and the lesson I ended up being late for was with a particularly lovely student who I continue to be in vague contact with. Fortune does not only favour the brave.↩
4. Rather strangely, just less than a month before I went to Bangladesh, I met a Bengali family in Nikko when travelling. I tried striking up conversation with them, which was noted to be out of character by my Japanese friend, in order to practice. Does everything just end up being practice for real life?↩
5. I have felt, conversely, an even greater positive connection with London as a result of taking on an almost safe haven status for me.↩</sup>

Three from 2016

In all honesty, 2016 has been a bit of a shitshow. You don't need much knowledge of me to work out why. But maybe the underlying air of depression pervading through the year has made the nicer moments nicer still. Or maybe they didn't need to be as nice to be considered nice. I can't be sure right now, but there were some very bright spots in the year too. With all that happened, it kind of fell to nostalgia and the feeling of Japan to lift the spirits. 3 moments of joy that I can remember from 2016:

Game: Rez Infinite
In 2001 Rez was released. In 2016, it was finally realised.
http://walletsandswords.blogspot.com/2016/10/rez-infinite.html

I spent much of the tail end of 2016 thinking "I should be in Rez right now, not here". A reality that was both virtual and unmistakably of a different world than the one we inhabit. Nothing was close to Rez in the year, nothing at all.

Film: Your Name
Your Name was released quite late in the year which may affect how I feel about it but it is also one of the very few films that I have paid to see at the cinema more than once (I believe the last was Black Swan) which must mean it meant something to me.
http://walletsandswords.blogspot.com/2016/12/your-name-kimi-no-na-wa-2016.html

It is an object lesson in how to bring the texture of Japan to the screen and that was enough for me. A cleaned up, lush version of reality was kind of a nice thing to see.
I guess Victoria was the only other film in contention as it was such an intoxicating mix of the ingredients of Berlin.

Misc: September in Japan
My trip to Japan in September was very much an exercise in nostalgia as I joyously met up with quite a few old friends and it was very nice to do so.  It was pleasant not just because my friends are lovely but it also reminded me of a time when I was a little bit more lovely myself. It was a strangely comfortable trip - a familiarity and comfort that made me feel a little uncomfortable upon landing in Osaka.

The use of a brilliant JR West Rail Pass made it a trip of rediscovering some of my less well-known parts of the country and allowed a lot of train travel which was a constant of joy.

The second was April 14th which now seems like such a long time ago, but I can't forget the unforgettable. The last few moments of the Liverpool vs Borussia Dortmund game were sensational in the Kop where I was lucky enough to be. Liverpool may not have won the Europa League that season, but they reminded me of why I fell in love with football and the second half of that game had an atmosphere that I can't put into words. The spine-tingling renditions of YNWA to start and end the game made it even more memorable.

The Last Guardian / Hitokui no Ōwashi Trico (人喰いの大鷲トリコ)

Games are generally about you making characters move but there are some, like The Last Guardian, that aim to flip that statement to make the characters move you. Fumito Ueda has, remarkably, made only three videogames inclusive of his latest, yet he is fairly recognised as a special talent. 

To say that The Last Guardian has been delayed may be an understatement in gaming terms and it started active development in 2007^[1], a little after the Playstation 3 was released. Games can take a long time to make, this is true, and gargantuan games such as GTA 5 will take 3 years or so of active development but these are truly massive worlds that are created. Niche, more artistic games with little likelihood of breakout success do not take this long - and the time is much harder to justify when the revenue is not likely to be blockbuster level^[2]. And to understand why people have been eagerly waiting for The Last Guardian, what Ueda's earlier games Ico and Shadow Of The Colossus (both available in remastered form on both PS3 and the lesser known Playstation Now service) were needs to be explained, at least briefly. 

Ico is a puzzle platformer with a single interesting mechanic that transforms it into a classic. You play as a child escaping a crumbling castle but also helping another prisoner within the castle - a slightly older, but still young, princess with whom you cannot talk to. The princess is scared and quite weak - as are you but as this is relative, you must protect her from the black, smudgy demons and the environment to escape together. The interesting mechanic of helping others is effected using your hands and so, by taking her hand, you are connected in a way that speech cannot do. It is a remarkably affecting dynamic and the slight tug of the princess, Yorda, is superbly realised in a way that was incomparable at the time. A game unlike games for gamers that only gamers knew about. In 2001, this did not necessarily great spell commercial success although it was critically acclaimed.

A few years later came the semi-connected Shadow of The Colossus which was unmistakably of the same stable. With a little more marketing, this was a more successful game commercially and also critically which revolved around a mechanic of defeating 16 large monsters in a variety of ways in order to try to save a young lady. Again, you were not alone and this time your companion was a horse, named Agro, that would help you travel the vast distances more quickly. In many ways, this was a more traditional game with combat and a defined level structure but it soon created a mythology around it based on the beautifully realised art direction.

Both of these games tried to create emotional connections within the player that were not usually explored within the industry at the time and so have left lasting impressions on many of those fortunate enough to have played them. It does also mean that, if you didn't get that connection, Ueda’s games could be seen as empty and trite -  a camp which a proportion of players will always fall into.

And so, to The Last Guardian -  another game that is standalone yet imbued with the worlds of Ico and Shadow of The Colossus through the whole piece. The game starts with the protagonist, a small boy, passed out next to a rather dangerous looking beast - a beast called (or the species is) “Trico”^[3] that looks hurt and angry. Coming near it does not please it yet there are spears jabbed into it that look like they need removing. How could you gain the trust of the beast, to help it? At this point, I think the fact that the protagonist is a small child makes much more sense as children do generally believe in the goodness of animals so he goes off to find food for the beast. The beast’s food, in a nod to the fact it is a game, comes in the form of silver barrels of which there are a few dotted around. Once the beast is sated and released, the journey can begin as the two of you build a bond over time and attempt to escape from wherever you are together, as a team. Trico is still wary of you and so you must continue to build trust with food and kindness (as with Agro in SOTC, you can calm Trico with a pet or a stroke) as you journey on.

The gameplay is simple and reminiscent of Ico with the puzzles fairly simple combinations of doors and levers but spiced up with a huge catlike chicken thing that helps and hinders you throughout. The puzzles do have some combat elements sometimes but Trico is a beast by action and name and will deal with foes violently and with genuine anger when they cross his path - it is your role to ensure that they do get seen by Trico. The enemies make Trico go berserk^[4] and point to a historic reason for that level of rage and apparent revenge. Ico is a template for this game due to it falling into the same genre but it could be seen as a flipped arrangement with you playing the princess role and Trico the protector. Watching Trico defending you is a sight to behold and in an entertainment form which places such importance on agency, it is interesting to lose that at points to let something else be awesome. You do have to be careful at these stages too, as he can also lash out a little too indiscriminately.

The game continues in this vein (as usual, I will not be too specific about the journey) as you attempt to escape from the ruins in which you find yourself but much of the formula for the next 10-15 hours is set within the first few minutes which evolves over time as your bond with Trico adapts and changes. 

In a way, after just 3 games, it is interesting that Ueda has such a coherent style that is easy to replicate yet is not replicated by others. The bloom, over-saturated lighting and solitude seems so simple to create but it is not done by anyone else. The Last Guardian is a game and should be judged on that basis but it is not really like other games. The industry has moved on hugely from the point where Ico was a breath of truly fresh air to an industry of indies that attempt to capture much of the ethos. Ico fleshed out a skeleton of a fairly simple set of gameplay mechanics with an atmosphere that felt markedly different to the competition. It wasn't particularly hard and aimed to funnel you through a batch of puzzles that would make you wonder for only a short while. In retrospect, it was a 3rd person "walking simulator"^[5] before it became a genre. The change in the industry that makes the game both standout and, maybe, leaves it flailing, is the cottage industry of atmospheric games. In 2001 and 2005, there was a single proper price point for games - full price (and discounted as they got older). That necessitates a certain weight to your game with many seeing a nice, solid experience as needing fifteen hours. The walking simulators and indie games that often seem to get good coverage are often far shorter. 3-5 hours is a good length for this which means that you have a tight experience with no real need to expand the mechanic too much. The question is whether TLG can really justify itself on these terms.

I enjoyed The Last Guardian tremendously but I cannot be sure how much of that was just a desire to enjoy it after so long and just having the opportunity to enjoy a game without cynicism. The start, which is in an enclosed space, sets the whole game up very well and the art style is evocative, as Ueda’s work always is, of a faded grandeur that asks as many questions as an environment can do. So much is left to your own interpretation in terms of the architecture and design that it will doubtless be pored over by fans for years to come. Trico is a charming creature and the bond between the two of you is expertly crafted and realised with the way that you both help each other. He, or she, is at turns angry or playful or docile or perky. Each Trico is a little different, apparently, depending on how you treat it and so mine was quite obedient as I regularly stopped to care for it. I have read complaints about Trico being frustratingly selfish and stubborn but I am a very caring gamer, so I did not have these issues. The world created is beguiling and welcoming but that is only half of the story - and it is the other half of the gameplay mechanics that may leave some unsatisfied.

Ueda’s games are rooted in the early 2000’s and things which were acceptable then are not as freely accepted now. The most common complaint is that the camera is difficult to control which is not something that I had any difficulty with at all. Most modern games follow a template of control that has been refined of left stick to move and right stick to rotate the camera - and this retained in The Last Guardian. The difference is that it is not as smooth (and this is obviously by design) and quick as in other games using a dreamy, floaty camera that does not always see you central. Your character, as a child, either scampers or tiptoes which has also caused complaint as people expect a different type of control. Most ridiculously, in my opinion, a regular complaint is also that the buttons are not as expected - because the “X” button is not the jump button. I think, due to the way all games seem to be so customizable and so fall into the template of design, this has caused unhappiness but I think this is misplaced. I am used to learning the controls of a game and see no issue with this but I recognise that others might. I had no issues with any of these gameplay mechanics and think they are overblown, but it is worth mentioning^[6].

The puzzles are simple enough but I did sit there perplexed for decent stretches of time which is both refreshing and a little frustrating as the puzzles are quite linear. Again, I am happy to not have it all handed to me on a plate so I appreciate that sense of discovery and “eureka” but there is something a little disappointing about the fact there appears to be single solutions. 

Overall, The Last Guardian is definitely a delightful highlight for me with the overall thrust of the game and story easily enough to propel the game through the hiccups in mechanics which are still quite rare. I would recommend to anyone interested as it will either be something that grabs you or it will, at least, be a game that you are not going to replicate.

The Last Guardian is a PS4 exclusive and can be purchased on the Playstation Store or in shops -  the trailer is below:

^{1. Fairly recently, there have been a number of big Japanese games that have finally seen the light of day after incredibly long development times - metal gear solid V spent x years in development which also resulted in the creator falling out with, and then leaving, his employer Konami. Final Fantasy XV has been in development for the best part of a decade. Last Guardian is published by Sony and was originally designed for the ps3.↩}

^{2. Global sales on the PS2 for both of his earlier games was about 2m combined).↩}

^{3. Team Ico have created three games: Ico could be the Japanese word for 1. The project name for SOTC was “Nico” which can translate as two. Trico sort of follows this convention although tri is not the Japanese for 3, the intention is clear.↩}

^{4. Berserk is also is a Final Fantasy status affliction that makes characters attack constantly without considering other options - highly appropriate here.↩}

^{5. This has become, almost, an implicit term of criticism for the number of games, such as Everybody's Gone to the Rapture, that eschew much combat for, instead, the joy of traversing an area or building intrigue. As games have become more popular, the market for games has widened but, as in so much of life in 2016, those that had it all their own way before don't seem to like opportunities for other people to do things that they can already do. This is a very interesting article about that..↩}

^{6. To be honest, a lot of gamers are very vocal about these kinds of things and I think they let themselves dislike things for slight drops in quality.↩}

Capsule Hotel: This is the point (カプセルホテル) [pt 2]

Yesterday's future was where modernity was born and Modernity is about efficiency. This future of yesterday can be seen in the architecture and shapes of the recent past - so aged now but so modern then. 
The space race was a defining element of modernity and the sleek, white shapes of orbiting spacecraft were recreated using sleek, gloss, white plastic to form bulbous shapes in objects around us. Post-war, Japan's most famous technological breakthrough was decidedly ground-based but the Shinkansen did involve travelling at high speeds and bringing modern life to far-reaching places. And it did so being white and sleek, cutting through the air like a bullet. It typified the space age view of optimism and speed. And what could be more in keeping with this drive for efficiency than the hugely effective use of space for sleep? We sleep while lying down… and we sleep with our eyes closed in the dark. Ergo, who needs extra space when sleeping? High vaulted ceilings are an extravagant frippery. Colour schemes and lighting design? Needlessly decadent. This was the future^[1].

One surprising thing about capsule hotels is how much everyone seems to know about them whilst simultaneously not having stayed in them. I had never stayed in a capsule until I stopped living in Japan and returned for a visit. I'm not sure that I know more than five people that have stayed in capsule hotels before - probably not even that.

A frustrating element of the nature of Japan is that it all seems so zany when you haven’t been. The things that you hear and see about Japan outside Japan are not usually particularly indicative of the mainstream^[2] and the capsule hotel does fit into this trap. The concept of the capsule hotel fills a gap perfectly that it wants to and is aimed squarely at the "missed the last train" crowd. There are perfectly rational and simple reasons for their popularity as they often provide a place to rest before another day at work. Or a cheap place to stay before any type of morning appointment such as a flight or interview.

The factors in play here are:

• A work culture that expects presenteeism beyond working hours into a drinking culture extending into evenings and nights.
• An urban sprawl that enables, or allows, people to work quite far from their workplace^[3].
• Poor nighttime public transport contrasting with excellent daytime transport meaning that the chances of getting somewhere easily but not being able to return quite so easily are increased.
• A vibrant night-time economy with large numbers of 24-hour establishments.
• High costs of land in city centres.

A capsule hotel has two elements - a capsule and a hotel which represents both the public and the private nature of society. My original description of a capsule hotel is, therefore, a little misleading as it covers just the capsule part. And the capsule part is the zany bit that everyone knows about - the reason I love the capsule hotel is the non-capsule part of it.

Upon entering a capsule hotel^[4], there are lockers for your shoes and you then give that locker key to the “front” reception staff. They then give you another key for another locker after you have checked in and paid. This second locker is for all of your belongings and this is where the aim of a capsule hotel is clear as these lockers are often quite small and rarely big enough for a suitcase. I have even stayed in one where the lockers were very thin and could only really hold the clothes that you were wearing. Yes, that’s right, your belongings that go into the locker also include the clothes that you are wearing - you are given a jinbei (effectively a set of pyjamas) for wearing around the hotel. As far as I am aware, this clothing is not optional. This is a remarkable lightening of your load.

Now, you are ready.

There are basically now three places you can go, as a guest, within the hotel: your capsule; the lounge area; the public bath.

My preferred order is public bath - lounge - capsule

Public bathing

The public bath is quite a common element of Japanese culture and is a true joy when done properly. There are many variants of the sento but at its basic level, it is a big hot bath that you soak in, communally. Many places have variations on this theme and so there may be multiple baths of different types but fundamentally, there is an area (often just next to the bathing area) to wash where there are pots and usually showers heads to use to wash yourself in that washing area. Again, usually, there are soaps and shampoos for you to use and often razors, toothbrushes and combs etc. The washing area is very important as you cannot be even marginally dirty when you enter the communal baths so I am personally quite conspicuous in this as I can only assume that other people may think that I would not be used to this. Once that has been done, you are free to soak in any of the baths. If we assume that we are at a more well-equipped one, then there will be baths with different water temperature (hot, cold and many temperatures in between), different chemicals or minerals, water jets and the ever strange electric current. People have their own preferences for which baths to go in and when but I find that the cold baths are a little less popular. One thing that I quite like is a soak in the cold water where I count to 100 and then to the hot water baths to feel the change. I would normally spend an hour or so in the baths but it is entirely variable.

Lounge

After a nice, relaxing soak in the bath, I then go to the lounge area. This is quite a catch-all term as many capsule hotels will have a separate restaurant/izakaya area with a la carte food for snacking or even for more substantial meals. Every single one that I have been to has also had a comic reading area as manga is a cultural phenomenon in Japan. In this instance, lounge really is the appropriate term as it will generally be a group of disparate, but very relaxed men lounging about in pyjamas reading or eating and drinking. In my experience, this has never been a rowdy at all and would often involve little interaction with each other - somewhat like young children playing next to each other before becoming sociable and socially mature.

The nature and amenities of the lounge can differ markedly but I think wi-fi will be fairly common and so many people will be doing the things that people do glued to their mobiles. I have also been to some with separate Internet cafes so even if you do not have a wi-fi enabled device, you can still check on the outside world. There is usually a TV or, in some cases personal recliners with a TV at each seat (and at-seat power) so you can lie back and watch. It really is a very relaxing environment and lying back in a jinbei with nary a care in the world, even if only for a few moments feels like an act of decadence in some ways. A cheap and lovely form of decadence.

Once I am feeling relaxed and ready to retire for the night I will go to the capsule room.

Sleeping quarters

The capsule itself is usually in a fairly large room with capsules along a corridor or a number of corridors. This is what you expect and so it is not particularly surprising – in fact, you have probably seen many pictures of this view and thought it looked a little clinical. As people can go there at any time, there will already be a number of capsules with curtains/blinds drawn and probably many empty ones. The capsules are usually in stacks of two and with the end facing into the corridor so that you go in at the “foot” end. The upper deck may be a little more tricky to enter via the stair-like ladder but it is not so high – you will be in a jimbei though…

Once into the capsule itself, there are usually a number of amenities in there too. Note, that there will not be any toiletries here as they would be in the bathing area so the things in there are usually just the pillow, covers and bedding. Usually, there are also electronics and every capsule I have been in has had a television and alarm controls – with others having PC, radio and other functions (which are often decided at the booking stage). There are not always headphones so often the TV sound will actually come from the speaker of the TV itself but it is not loud and I cannot say I have ever had a problem with hearing other TVs. I have, however, heard other people although not much. Luckily, as this is aimed at the domestic market, most people are pretty considerate when retiring for the night so I have never heard people coming back very late and loud although I can only assume that this does happen. I assume that you may also be able to hear other people snoring or suchlike but I have never noticed it. On that basis, a hotel I stayed in had a nice little extra of noise-cancelling headphones (I think earplugs can be asked for usually, anyway) which I did use.

Usually, people do not stay in capsule hotels to stay in bed (although they can be pretty comfortable depending on options) so there is a lot of movement in the mornings well before check out time and I have also been reminded of check out (remember, capsule hotels are not designed for multiple nights) by a very loud siren so that you are forced out of slumber to check out. It is worth remembering this depending on your plans the next day.

Hopefully, this has provided a little more detail on one of the apparently zany, yet entirely sensible, things about Japan – which is something the world needs more of.

<sup>1. Japanese has three alphabets and one is used almost exclusively for foreign, loan words which added sophistication and a certain je ne sais quoi. At a point in time, internationalism was the future and implicitly, katakana represented that international future. Capsule becoming kapuseru becoming カプセル.↩
2. One of the things that I was asked by many, many people when I went to Japan in 2003 was about the preponderance of vending machines selling dirty pants. Obviously, I had never seen them but I was told it was something in Japan. Looking back, I think it may have been that there was a machine that did this in one of the more interesting nightspots but this is no different to assuming that the kind of thing that happens in Soho in London is indicative of the mores of semi-rural Lincolnshire.↩
3. In many cases, the worker does not pay the costs to travel to the office but they are borne by the workplace - so the economics of living further away are changed.↩
4. All capsule hotels are not created equal and there are variations depending on the type of place. The examples I use are the most common and, where specific, this will be from experience at Fukuoka. Capsule hotels come in many forms and I recently stayed in one that was modelled after Business and First class travel in planes. It felt a little more sanitised and suitable for those worried by the appearance of seediness but I cannot say I liked it as much – it probably works for those wanting to give it a sort of go though.↩</sup>

Capsule Hotel: What is the point? (カプセルホテル) [pt 1]

Tokyo nightlife has all the elements of a 24-hour culture except one - transport. The public transport system, largely trains, in Tokyo (and most of the major cities in Japan) are things of wonder with highly effective and quick transit available around most of the individual "cities" that make up Tokyo. An equally interesting facet is the transport utilisation over a day of the trains and that there is really no evening peak^[1] as people return from work and socialise fairly evenly over the evenings. I am not sure I ever really noticed the evening rush hour and it continues into the night - but not through to the morning. Many services stop at about midnight (often earlier) making the journey home a little earlier than it would often be in other major cities. The vast scale of the city means that it will often be a long time before you reach home even if you do leave at half eleven. The scale of the city also means that it will often be a hugely expensive last drink if you miss your last train. This makes the last train quite an amazing experience in many ways as I discovered on one of my first nights in the city. But what about if you don't have one of those amazing experiences and miss the last train? Some of the more common sleeping options are:

   (Business) Hotel

There are, of course, many hotels that can be found quite easily and there is even a common class of hotel which are simpler but still quite comfortable with decent service and beds called business hotels.

   Internet Cafe/Manga Kissa

The internet cafe in Japan is often booth based rather than “open” as in most places. Each booth is often quite dark (so you can choose the level of lighting) and separated away so you get your own space. There is often a set of headphones so the whole room is often fairly quiet and the pricing is usually available for quite long chunks of time - including overnight. Drinks are available from vending and on a drink bar basis so you can get refreshment as you want it. At the point of booking, there is usually a choice of seating and this will regularly include a flat reclining seat option. Many Internet cafes will also have a shower room within the cafe too as well as an extensive choice of manga to read too.

   Love Hotel

In many parts of the city, there are a number of Love hotels where you can rent a room for the night or for a “short stay” during the day. As the name suggests, the resting part of the stay is not often the prime reason for a stay here. There is a lot to be said about love hotels but they allow an easy stay in often convenient locations and so are an option whether a couple or not.

   Capsule Hotel

Sometimes, you just need to get some sleep so all you need is a bed and not many amenities so why not pack people into the available space. These will often be very conveniently located near stations and allow sleep in a lying down position - an option not always available at similar prices.

   Karaoke Box

A somewhat counter-intuitive example but there are Karaoke boxes everywhere and they are open late and allow you to book a room that will hopefully be soundproof and have room service. Japanese karaoke rooms are also paid for per person rather than per room so this can be surprisingly cost effective and you would normally get a room which has space to stretch out. The option for a sing isn’t too bad either.

Of these options, I think the one that hits the sweet-spot for me is Capsule Hotel which is a surprise for many -and that many is usually made up of people that don't quite understand why. And in part 2, I'll explain why [link to come later].

^{1. The morning peak in Tokyo is a thing of legend with begloved station attendants helping pack the high capacity, high-frequency trains that little bit more than would be otherwise possible. If you go, be wary when you see those gloves.↩}