World Cup Diary part 1
Way back in 2002 I worked for a bank in Hong Kong, and it was one of either the perks or the trials of my job, depending on your opinion of these things, that I had to do a lot of business travelling. Sometimes this is good, and sometimes this is bad, but occasionally I manage to time the trip just right.
One such occasion was in the summer of that year, when I had a vital business trip to Japan & Korea at exactly the same time as the World Cup happened to be on. This is a travelogue of my trip, split into two parts; it is not about football exactly, just about trying to survive in the streets of Tokyo...
Tuesday 28th May
Beer Tasted: OB Lager
I set sail from Hong Kong for my first trip to Seoul in Korea. I land at the airport to see that anyone with 'FIFA' on their badges gets to go to the front of the customs queue, whilst everyone else is forced to hang around at the back. I thought about showing my England tickets, but decide that they probably won't hack it. Although I reckon they should.
The ride into town is good, travelling in to the city past the Seoul World Cup Stadium where the opening ceremony will take place the following Friday. The roads have flags and banners all the way down them, and the city centre is done out with flowers, more flags, and a huge inflatable football. World Cup fever is here, and I’m right in the middle of it.
I get to my hotel and I am sharing it with some of the delegates of the FIFA Congress. I hope to see Sepp Blatter in the bar, but instead I just get lots of security checks and searches; there's a security man on every floor and armed guards at reception.
The security is bewildering, but not the most confusing part of the day; that award goes to the hotel bathroom, which features an electronic toilet. I don't dare touch it in case it does something unexpected; I bet you can't get one of those in Dixons.
I wander around Seoul in the evening in search of a beer. I find one bar selling at a pound a pint, although I soon realise why when it's boring and I want to go anywhere else I can find. I return to the hotel, and in desperation do the unthinkable; I go in Bobby London's English theme pub for a drink.
Wednesday 29th May
Beer Tasted: Cass
Two days ago until the football starts, and no-one in our Seoul office seems to be going. Even the customers I ask reckon they can't afford it; I don't know who's going here, maybe there's one millionaire that's booked everything.
After work is a quiet night, except for when I go out to dinner with some colleagues. I change from my suit and go in jeans, only to be told that I look like a teenager. Apparently no-one in Seoul wears jeans; I think it’s time to go to Tokyo.
Thursday 30th May
Beer tasted: Asahi
I am disappointed when I arrive in Japan - despite in the airport seeing a number of Irish fans on a plane from London, and some Swedes from...well, Sweden I guess, there are no Japanese welcome banners for the World Cup, and no major efforts to greet the world arriving at their door - just a really long line for immigration. I negotiate this, then realise that I've missed the bus for the hotel by two minutes, and have to wait an hour and a half for the next one. Welcome to Tokyo.
The bus ride takes us into the City Centre (again no flags or banners), and helps demonstrates just how big a place Tokyo is. We go into the urban sprawl, and go on, and on, and on, over flyovers and through tunnels, before I eventually arrive at my hotel, which is conveniently placed next to our office, as well as a temple, and the Prime Minister's Offices. Whether bankers go in the temple to pray at lunchtime that their loans will be repaid, I don't know, but I am a bit surprised when someone tells me that as we are the main skyscraper next to the high profile Prime Minister's office, any terrorist attack on Tokyo is certain to be at our building. Yes thanks for that.
In the office I meet the Tokyo Head, who I knew from London days. He greets me with that typical Japanese greeting, "Motey you old bastard, you're here for the football, aren't you?" All the Japanese ask me if I'm here for the football also, but that's because three English fans were deported yesterday for being suspected hooligans. People in the office eye me closely; one day to go.
Friday 31st May
Beer tasted: Sapporo
I spent the day in meetings which are of no interest here, but afterwards, instead of trooping back to the office, my Tokyo colleague suggests we go somewhere else - "If I go back they make me do boring reports". I ask if we are going to Ginza (I read it in my Lonely Planet guide that morning and thought it would make me sound knowledgeable), but no, apparently that is like going to Regent Street; I am told we are going to somewhere more like Glasgow. Ok then.
Our cab journey takes us to a bit of a sleazy area, and I wonder what the hell is going on. We get out near a whole host of arcade centres and I wonder if this must be what he meant, but as it turns out it is just the subway stop. Our eventual target is Tokyo's biggest temple - Glasgow? No I don't get it either. Anyway it is quite pleasant, and my colleague demonstrates a stereotype of Japanese culture by buying a camera and taking pictures of me in front of the temple. He then pockets the camera and I don’t see it again.
Dinner is work colleagues again, and I get introduced to that great Japanese invention...sake. Hot or cold, it all goes down the same way, and after a few of each I am ready for a night out in Tokyo, whilst completely forgetting that there's any football on at all.
I hit Tokyo's Roppongi district, and stumble between a few bars before finally going into a nightclub. If it's 2500 Yen to get in, and there's 16 Yen to the Hong Kong Dollar, how many Korean Won to the Pound? I give up, thrust some multi-coloured bank notes at the bouncer on the door, and go in.
The nightclub was fun, albeit pretty much the same as clubs in most parts of the world, as the girls dance in a group in the centre and all the guys stand together around the edges of the dance floor working out which girl they’d rather be talking to. Unfortunately my efforts to improve international relations by chatting up two Japanese girls floundered for no less than four reasons:
- I spoke no Japanese
- They spoke no English
- I was drunk
- So were they
Seeing me dance was the final straw & they headed off, I headed for home.
Saturday
Beer tried: Yesebi Malt
I spend the day in Shinjuku, one of the thriving parts of the city. Beforehand the tour book warned me about the station, which it said could turn travellers into "a gibbering wreck". Well I never foamed at the mouth, but I did get lost on three separate occasions in three different parts of the station. The subway station has 39 exits alone, before you put the rail station on top; imagine Kings Cross and St. Pancras combined complexity wise, sat on top of, oh, I don't know, most of the Northern Line. I get out alive the third time and count my blessings.
In the evening I prove that my trip is not just about football, so I go to experience a Japanese cultural night out. Concert? No. Sumo? Not quite. Actually I went to the baseball.
The Japanese love baseball almost as much as the Americans, and typically have imported the whole shooting match. I went to Tokyo Giants against Hiroshima whatevers, and was very impressed. There was a great atmosphere, lots of singing, shouting, cheering, and you could get served beer in your seats by scantily clad waitresses. They also use a lot of rattles to make noise to cheer the team on; I bought two bangy-sticky plastic things, that when you hit them together made a loud noise. Well it kept me happy; the only trouble I noticed was that they were attached by a chain, which made them resemble Bruce Lee nunchuks. I just banged mine together, and tried not to spill anyone's beer.
The baseball is very much a family affair, usually meaning that some of the family watch the game, whilst the rest wander round and have a chat to each other, often sitting in the corridors having a picnic and completely ignoring what is going on on the pitch. I sat next to a friendly Japanese family, who had a young daughter with typical kid tendencies, as she spent four innings asleep, then spent the rest of the game running around like she'd had six cans of Red Bull. I humoured her by letting her have some of the topping off my pizza, but when she went for my beer that was too much, and words were exchanged. She only spoke Japanese obviously, but I think I got my point across.
I get back to the hotel in time to watch Germany score their 5th, 6th, 7th, and 8th goals against Saudi Arabia, and then meet up with my colleague Simon from HK; we go out to hit the town to toast Germany's success (honest). The bars in Tokyo were heaving with English fans in for the Sweden game, and Irish fans just back from their game against Cameroon. All are intermingling quite happily, mainly near two pubs (one Irish, one English) right next to each other in the centre of Tokyo. We join in for a while, drinking and singing, but keeping an eye on the police, who are keeping a worried eye on us. They stand in the road ready to strike at any minute, and you can't help but feel that they are more likely to cause trouble than to stop it.
Sunday 2nd June
Beer tried: Suruga
The day of the big game. Simon & I meet up with two fellow Hong Kong fans, Ed & Gavin, and set off on the subway to the stadium at the end of the line. We're not sure how long it is going to take, so we go early, as it turns out along with many other fans. We get to the stadium to find that it is in the middle of nowhere, and the only entertainment in the three hours before kick off is some kids putting on a ropey dance show, and some stalls selling craftware and plants. Tempted though we are by the fushcias, we try and hunt down some beer.
It turns out that there is no beer anywhere outside the stadium, so we get back on the train and return one stop up the line to go to the suburb of Saitama. We felt sure there would be some life there.
We were wrong, as we come out of the station to find a suburban wasteland. There are a couple of pubs that are firmly shut, and there is not even a sight of a TV to watch the Argentina v Nigeria game that is currently in action. We wander up and down the streets, eventually quenching our thirst from a local supermarket. The quest for a TV proved even harder - we tried to go into one restaurant and ask them to turn the TV on, but they refused and asked us to leave. It was only on the way out that we noticed all the other guests were wearing black, and it was actually a wake that we tried to interrupt.
Finally we find a video shop with a TV showing the game. We stand in there having a chat to the owner & drinking our beers, until a couple of the guys started wandering round the films out of curiosity. We then realise that there are about 10 Hollywood movies in the video shop, and the other 250 films on the shelves are all porn. Although we were supposed to be watching the football, for one or two guys the shelves and the appeal of "Lesbian Cheerleaders 4" becomes more interesting. We eventually decide to move on, although not before the owner thanks us for our custom (we hadn't bought anything) and gives us a plastic transformer toy as a memento of our trip.
Back near the station we see a sign on top of a hill - "Pizza & Coffee". We hike up there & finally find nirvana - a restaurant, albeit a small one, that served beer and had the football on. We never actually had any pizza or any coffee, but we did manage to watch the rest of the Argentina game with beer in our hands.
We trotted back to Saitama, on to the real business of the day, England v Sweden. The stadium is certainly impressive, huge sweeping main stands, and inside the views were all excellent (see photo, Simon & I). When we went in, the Swedes had one corner in yellow & blue, then the rest of the stadium was red and white of England. Thousands of England fans were there, and thousands of Japanese supporting England for the day and wearing a fake England shirt with Beckham on the back. Sure enough, when the teams are announced, Becks receives the biggest cheer of the day (and a few screams as well).
It was a spine tingling moment to see the kick off and realise that we were watching England's World Cup campaign in action, even if Emile Heskey is playing for us in midfield. The game starts quite brightly, and before long England win a couple of corners, taken by Beckham.
Now I don't know if this came across on the TV coverage or not; when Beckham took the corner, he was at the opposite end of the ground to us, and as he ran up, the whole of his end took a flash photo at the same time ("The Beckham Flash" we decided). One half of the stadium all lit up instantly, I've swear I’ve never seen anything like it. Obviously this worked in our favour, as the Swedish keeper was blinded by the light, missed the ball, and England went one up.
At half time we are quite happy, and as the announcer said, "England lead at half time by one point to zero". Well we know what you mean. However the second half is not quite the same, and involves most of the crowd in white and red hiding their faces in their hands and praying for the final whistle. We thought we had scored near the end when Owen hit the side netting, but it was not to be, and we get out thankful for a draw.
Walking back to the station you would have thought that we were Saudi Arabia rather than England, judging by the comments and the despair of the fans. But it did help follow that there was no trouble at the game - beforehand everyone was too upbeat, afterwards everyone was too dejected. And also the Japanese it turned out had modelled their stadium on Wembley, because we queued for 45 mins before getting on the underground to go home.