Stranger In A Strange Land

- Tokyo Cruising -

The first-time visitor to Tokyo sees an asphalt jungle. And for good reason: Tokyo is an endless stream of grey. If there is any doubt the policy wonks didn't rebuild post-war Japan around work and industry you need look no further than the eyesore of Tokyo.

Despite its drab colour, Tokyo is immaculately clean. To the jilted eye, its neatly kept streets resemble Main Street, Disneyland without the mouse. Blame it on pork-belly politics, but the Japanese government must spend more money on road repair per capita than any other nation: the streets are glassy smooth. You'll find more potholes in Tokyo than defects in a Toyota.

Tokyo is a conglomeration of small hamlets, each with their own, distinct personality. Like many European cities, the spider-web of narrow, winding streets off the main thoroughfares have been around long before the advent of the automobile. Most visitors will agree: Tokyo's charm is on these back streets, where one is silently lifted to a simpler time where neighbours know each other by first name.

I came to Japan in the early 80s, originally from the green suburbs of the San Francisco Bay Area. For years I missed afternoons spent in Golden Gate Park tossing the disk with friends. Though I tried for a while, it seemed ridiculous to jump in the car, battle bumper-to-bumper traffic for 45 minutes to visit the closest "park" which frequently was brown with crabgrass and bugs of every walk of like. I learned long ago Japanese have no translation for "grass"; the closest equivalent is "weed", which comes as no surprise. (Yes, but there are about 10 different ways to express the many, subtle nuances of grey.)

Then I was blessed. A few years back a Canadian friend introduced me to inline skates. My life changed overnight. This is a sport made for Tokyo's butter-smooth, asphalt paradise. Most Tokyo streets have no curbs, gravel is non- existent, and the slight rolling elevation and windy back streets offer the perfect backdrop for neighbourhood cruising. This has become my passion ever since.

Blades were popular in Japan briefly in the early 1990s, but like other fads in Japan, its popularity died almost overnight. Today, the sport is virtually invisible, except for the few hardcore, free-style skaters.

Perhaps for good reason: inline skating is illegal "except in designated parks," to quote Japanese traffic law. Most general-purpose parks prohibit skating outright. In the 10 years I've skated Tokyo streets, I've seen probably five other street skaters. It's like meeting a friendly face in the middle of the Sahara.

So I'm a belligerent law-breaker, usually putting in five or so hours every week cruising the side streets of my neighbourhood. Not surprisingly, I get flagged down from time to time by our friendly men in blue, which is always good for a laugh. The Japanese police are so polite: and practical. I've explained the dilemma of Japanese traffic law, and am politely advised to go home quietly. I've perfected the fine art of speaking loud in English.

Everywhere you go in Tokyo is crowded. I envy the stories of marathon speed skaters in other countries with the luxury of getting into a long, uninterrupted pace. No, that's pretty much impossible in my neighbourhood.

Instead, for the first several years learning to skate I practiced literally nothing but quick stops and turns out of harm's way. Over the years, I've graduated to (brake-equipped) Salomon 5-wheel skates, which is something like having a Ferrari in the middle of LA commute traffic. I probably never get out of second gear, but it's still fun to blow by the occasional granny bicycle from time to time, going backwards if I'm feeling particularly audacious.

Skating in Tokyo is much like driving a car on these crowded streets: caution and moderate speed. Fortunately, I've never had an accident with cars or pedestrians; my nastiest spills have always been trying to do something stupid - like skating backwards past a granny bike... Like Europe, many corners are fitted with concave mirrors to see around and up the adjacent street for oncoming traffic which, when clear, allows for the occasional, high-speed corner.

At 182cm, I am tall by Japanese standards. With my blades this puts me at around 190cm, which is towering. Despite this menacing appearance, I am frequently humbled by the curiosity and friendliness of the typical Japanese I meet. The greetings from mothers with little kids in tow or little old ladies grooming their front gardens: these simple conversations reveal the hidden charm of this asphalt jungle.

Kurt Hahn
May 2004
Tokyo, Japan

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