What is friendship? For one reason or another I found myself thinking a lot about this over the last few weeks. On the one hand it seems to be an unnecessary question – we all know what friends are, don’t
The Japanese toilet
Forget Pokémon. Forget that long parade of Japanese cars and motorbikes that clog our roads. Forget the Walkman and the Game Boy. No, the greatest contribution of Japanese inventiveness to our Western culture lies not in the automotive or entertainment
Hotel
I’ve just come back from Japan having spent several exhausting days in Kyoto at the 5th World Parkinson Congress. The conference centre is on the edges of Kyoto, not quite in the middle of nowhere but certainly detached from the
Kyoto diary 8. Coda
It’s Saturday morning. Early Saturday morning and we are heading to Osaka on a small bus. WPC 2019 is over. The exhibition hall which, only yesterday, was a hubbub of noise and Japanese drummers, is silent and dark. The exhibition stands
Kyoto diary 7. A little night music
Let me nail my colours to the mast. I come from a family of music makers, some orchestral musicians, even opera stars. I have listened to countless children’s recorder ensembles, heard violins scream for mercy and wince as youngsters try
Kyoto diary 6. Sunshine and sumo.
After wall-to-wall conference, I decided it was time to see a little of Kyoto. After all this was once the capital of Japan and the remnants of that dynasty, in the form of temples, palaces, castles and gardens are scattered
Kyoto diary 5. Getting down to business.
The lights finally came on, so to speak, this morning. Somehow the previous 24 hours have been conducted entirely on autopilot. I can remember hardly anything. But apparently I moderated a speaker session. And not just that – the session
Kyoto diary 4. Zombie apocalypse.
Immigration in Osaka was a weird and dislocating experience. A dozen of us advanced collectively on a determined but hapless immigration official – he insisted on scanning all our baggage while we swept slowly forwards like Hokusai’s wave. Eventually he
Kyoto diary 3. On our way
5am British Summer Time (BST). Predictably I woke around 5am, as usual and in pain. Not my choice you understand, just a reflection of my general insomnia and one of my increasingly frequent nocturnal brawls – surely among the more tiresome
Kyoto diary 2: One more sleep
Really feels like that. Suddenly I’m a 10-year-old boy, waiting for Christmas to arrive – not quite sure whether Santa Claus exists or not but just happy to enjoy the moment. And it’s all come round much quicker than I