Beer on the mountain

Japan has wonderfully adopted the concept of beer garden. This all-you-can-drink summertime event, which has somehow escaped widescale abuse thus far, is a great way to spend a humid Saturday afternoon. Usually found on the rooves of department stores (in Tokyo anyway), these are very popular and you can expect to line up for up to a few hours if you haven't reserved or arrived early. Typical price is ¥3000 to ¥6000, depending on where you go.

I've been once this year, last Saturday. Seeing as how beer gardens close at the end of September, I wanted to make sure my one visit was something special, so I packed my Kuriko up and headed over to Mount Takao.

Admission was ¥3300 for me, ¥3000 for Kuri, and included unlimited food and drink for two hours (and ¥500 for every half hour thereafter). Good deal if you ask me. However, there's a catch:

Now for us this line moved a bit quicker than what it looks like. We made it in within 30 minutes of opening time. Sadly, many others did not.

Once in, we parked ourselves at the edge of the balcony and gave 'er. All-you-can-drink/eat isn't the drunken gong show that it would be if you tried this in Canada. I think I saw the party beside us get up twice for refills. This is saying a lot, given that you can get Heineken on tap. Don't get me wrong; it was loud and roudy, but not so much that it stopped people from bringing their kids there.

And check out this nifty little invention:

The rain really added to the experience. Every look at a forested mountain in the clouds and wonder what it's like up there? It's wet. And awesome. I sat there eating raw octopus and watching the fog roll in and out. Good feeling for someone whose Vancouver upbringing conditioned him to like rain more than sun.

You can view the entire album here. Can't wait until next year.

Adventures in dentist visits

[Edit, 2011-09-20: Sorry, I forgot to publish this post last week. I wrote the thing but it didn't go online until now.]

It's no little-known fact about me that my jaw doesn't shut properly. Or maybe you didn't know that. Regardless, this has been an irritation of mine for at least the better part of the last decade... up until this week when I finally did the right thing and had my teeth ground down to a more bite-friendly size.

There are characteristics of Tokyo dentists that are perfectly in line with the eccentricities of the rest of this city. I want to say that I saw them coming but I really didn't. Most of what I witness was quite a pleasant surprise.

Since arriving here I've been to two dentists: one for a cleaning and the other for the aforementioned grind work. The first thing to say is that offices look nothing like those back home. They're more like day spas. The first guy I went to had an office with huge windows overlooking Roppongi Hills; the second featured soothing wallpaper music, real artwork, and a little water fountain. Made me feel quite important.

Don't ever pay for an x-ray again, especially a two-dimensional one. I got my head strapped into a contraption normally used to immobilise Hannibal Lecter while laser beams triangulated the coordinates of my teeth. Then a two-pronged x-ray probe circled my head, gathering every dirty little detail of my mouth. All this time For Elise by Beethoven was playing. A three-dimensional model of my teeth was ready within five minutes. I kid you not.

The actual treatment was dandy. The quality of a dentist differs from one person's opinion to another's. What I like is that in both instances, I had explained to me exactly what was happening and, more importantly, how much it would cost. This actually differs greatly from most other aspects of professional services in Japan, which are typically full of hidden costs.

Speaking of cost, none of this costs much as it is covered by public health insurance. Yes, that's right: I said public insurance (not extended). Cleaning: ¥1600; bite adjustment: ¥5000.

So I guess the lesson of this week is thumbs up for Japanese dentistry.