Gaijin Tonic

Looking more like a vintage toy emporium than a drinking hole, Characters, a self-styled “cafe/bar/fleamarket” offers the unique opportunity to drink while browsing for used toys. A shrine to Western retro pop-culture, you can knock back beers or coffee in the company of ancient McDonalds Happy meal toys, stuffed Bugs Bunnys and plastic Pink Panthers. Colourful and weird, it looks like a bar you might find in Sesame Street. If you’ve ever wanted to get wasted in Toys R Us, you can finally do it without getting arrested.

Although all the toys and trinkets within seem to be of American origin, Characters bar is a quintessentially Japanese joint. Mad places like this don’t exist anywhere else in the world because drunken lads would be too tempted to steal the toys for souvenirs, as an amusing alternative to traffic cones.

Most of the toys are for sale, but they ain’t cheap, even though most of the merchandise could be found gathering dust in every attic or charity shop in the USA. However, if you’re getting smashed, be careful you don’t become overwhelmed by nostalgia and fork out a fortune for a Gremlins lunchbox or a Flintstones frisbee, as I once did.

In addition to the pleasing presence of artifacts like ALF dolls and Mr T action figures, the music is fittingly old-school and fun. Tunes by the likes of Duran Duran or KC and the Sunshine Band are usually spinning, and often old 1980s music videos are being shown on the TV behind the bar. They do a nice selection of cocktails, and Characters has the dubious distinction of being one of the only places in Yokohama where you can buy 7Up.

As ever in Japan, space is at a premium, and the place is so crammed with shelves and cabinets full of valuable toys and commemorative plates, you might feel uncomfortable about making any sudden movements. When you add alcohol into the equation, the words “bull” and “china shop” spring to mind.

Closing time is 2AM (or midnight on Sundays), so if you want to continue the night somewhere more hedonistic, there’s another bar directly above called “Party Animals” which should fit the bill. But by that time you’ll probably be feeling dizzy from all the bright colours, and uneasy from the benign gazes of Smurfs.

Info:
Characters Bar
Kikuya Bldg 1F
1-19 Ishikawa-cho, Naka-Ku,
Yokohama Shi 231-0826
Tel: (045) 6503080
Open on Tuesday to Saturday from 3PM to 2AM, and Sunday from noon to midnight.

Here’s a amusingly-named bar in Kawasaki City. Presumably it’s what the people inside say when their Dads come to take them home.

Just as soft drugs supposedly lead to harder drugs, in Japan booze inevitably leads to… karaoke. And, my, what a nasty path that is.

Late at night, after a party, some sadistic bastard always proposes a karaoke jam, and you must then decide between the last train home, or five hours of liver abuse and aural torture in a karaoke booth. A no-brainer if you’re sober, but common sense tends to fly out the window when you’ve been drinking sake.

Once inside, the most inarticulate, slurring wino grabs the microphone, and the musical misery begins. Excessive drinking is required to drown out the cacophony.
And so you find yourself trapped for the night in a tiny room with the same handful of people. A claustrophobic, black room where men and women fight over the mike and scream themselves hoarse, emotions are laid bare, beer is spilled. It’s a bit like “Cube” or “Saw,” but with a worse soundtrack. In the karaoke box, no-one can hear you scream.

Blood, as well as beer, is often spilled. One guy I know was head-banging so vigorously to his own rendition of Bon Jovi’s “Bad Medicine” that he smashed his face into the table -Thwack!!- and bust his head open. He was unconscious on the floor in a mess of blood for quite a while.

Aggressive lunges are made for the remote control as people squabble over whose song is next. A tambourine appears from somewhere. An inch of beer is sloshing around on the floor.
Slowly darkness descends, your vision blurs….

Eventually you wake up, ears ringing, on a bench in the street somewhere, the scuff-marks on the toes of your shoes indicating that you had been dragged there by the thankless karaoke-box staff, and you can barely believe that you had been foolish enough to go back to karaoke yet again.

The more warped kids in school wished it was Halloween every day, but it actually is in Yokohama’s “Halloween” bar. You can go to this Halloween-themed cafe/bar all year round and act and dress like a weirdo without fear of reprimand.

Having said that, if you turn up in the middle of spring in a Freddy Krueger costume you’re still likely to raise a few eyebrows.

Keeping it creepy, the music is classic Halloween tunes like Transylvania 6-5000 and Monster Mash. And the décor is all pumpkins and ghosts as you’d expect. There are numerous dolls and pictures of Jack Skellington from “The Nightmare before Christmas”, a ubiquitous face in Japan. Seemingly that film is Japanese people’s only frame of reference to Halloween- I wonder who the hell’s renting all those Freddy and Jason movies I see in the video shops.

Yep, in this joint it’s strictly a kid’s party version of Halloween, with no blood-dripping chainsaws or ice-hockey masks in sight. The staff are all very sweet and would probably have nightmares for weeks if they watched something like “the Exorcist.”

Disappointingly there are none of the novelty cocktails (like “Dr Jeckyl’s Potion” or “Vampire’s Blood”) I’ve come to expect from these places. But still, the bar is worth a visit for the novelty value. Presumably it’s good fun on October 31st.

Tel: (045) 314-7856.

Across Japan there are countless unconventionally-themed novelty bars, which make drinking all the more enjoyable. For instance, I’ve been to a Luther Vandross-themed nighclub, a Frankenstein bar, and a truly macabre restaurant modelled on a prison hospital where, upon arrival, you are handcuffed by girls in nurse-outfits and led to a cell in which you can drink cocktails from test tubes and eat food served in bedpans. A classy joint.

I’ve also been to a bar named “Real” in Fujisawa city, where my table was balanced on top of a large water-tank containing two small, live sharks. I looked down through the perspex at the scary beasts swimming around beneath me while I sipped whiskey. It was like something you’d find in the lair of an evil criminal-mastermind from a James Bond film. It was hard not to imagine the floor sliding away, dropping me to my bloody doom. Later, when I was wasted, I got kicked out of the bar for jumping up and down on the perspex to see if it would break. (I’m a complete dickbrain.)

Info:
Bar Real, Fujisawa 23 Bldg 201, 1-4-3, Kugenumaishigami, Fujisawa 251-0025
Tel: 0466-26-4336

Submerged under the streets of Shinjuku’s Kabukicho district is this little aquatic-themed izakaya, where you can get mashed in a cabin with portholes and pictures of fish on the walls, with lifebuoys and diver’s helmets hanging from ceilling.

In command of the vessel is the salty old seadog “Captain” Kaji Aishin, a jolly bloke who looks like a Japanese Captain Birdseye. He clearly relishes his role when he emerges periodically to greet the customers. Someone really should teach him some expressions like “up periscope!”, “shiver me timbers!“ and “ooh-aarr me hearties!” to complete the effect.

You’ll notice in the picture above that, although Captain Kaji is dressed as a naval officer, he’s making a hippy peace sign. They aren’t one hundred percent devoted to authenticity in “Dining Bar Submarine”, you see. In a real submarine, I’m fairly sure they don’t generally play an inexplicable mix of heavy metal and eurobeat music, like in this place. Still, the drinks are cheap here, so at least you can drink like a fish. Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum!

If you think recreating the claustrophobic atmosphere of “Das Boot” is a strange way to wind down on a friday night, it could be worse - the Captain owns another bar named Titanic!

Info:

Dining Bar Submarine, Pocket Building B1, Kabukichuo 1-17-4, Shinjuku-Ku
Tel: (03) 5285-3480. Open from 5pm to 5am

This is a bar sign in Yokohama. I love it because it’s so uninviting- the pig looks as miserable as sin, like a jaded, bloated alcoholic.

I was so awestruck when I found this extremely cheap beer in Okinawa that I had to take a picture. It’s about 80 US cents, or 40 English pence. And to make matters even more brilliant, the bar is near the beach! Sadly, after a couple of hours in the place, in my inebriated state, I forgot to jot down the address. Doh.

The most deliriously odd watering hole I’ve ever set foot in is a place named Kagaya. Surprisingly, I stumbled across this place in the glum business district of Shinbashi and, at first, it was misleadingly inauspicious- inside, it was a small, simple Izekaya, deserted but for a young man in an apron. He greeted us eagerly and told us his name was Mark Kagaya- a rather unorthodox monicker for a Japanese guy, but I didn’t pry.

Once me and my friends were seated, Mark presented us with a mysterious list of countries and instructed us to pick one, and told us he’d then deliver the first round of drinks in the style of the country chosen. Intrigued, we decided on the USA, and the young waiter disappeared behind a curtain.

We waited, not knowing what to expect. Before long, Mark emerged carrying a tray of drinks. He was inexplicably wearing a luminous green frog costume, and suddenly launched into a surreal, mind-boggling performance, involving lots of screaming and jumping. I sat agape, uncomprehending, as I witnessed this demented scene. Mark vanished again as quickly as he’d arrived, leaving me and my friends shell-shocked.

“What kind of a place is this?” I whispered as I picked up my beer glass which, to my surprise, started shaking uncontrollably. No, I didn’t have a serious case of the D.Ts, the glass was a battery-powered novelty designed to vibrate when lifted. My mate raised his glass and it emitted a loud “moo”-ing noise like a cow.

The eccentric waiter soon re-appeared minus the frog costume, as if nothing had happened, to take our food orders. There was no conventional menu to be seen, but rather a deranged puppet show involving a teddy bear demonstrating how delicious the food was. Utterly confused, we managed to order something by nodding.

The escapades continued, with increasing lunacy. As the liquor flowed, our inhibitions evaporated and my friends and I began to enjoy the infantile merrymaking. The hyperactive host kept popping behind his magic curtain and bringing us games and toys to play with. Table football, balloons, electronic games, and monkey costumes. I was grinning like a stoned toddler all night.

Later, we got chatting to Mark and he revealed that bar-tending had been the family trade for generations and that Kagaya had stood at the very same spot in Shinbashi for over a century. The costumes, games and crazy atmosphere were entirely of his own invention, however. I got the impression he`d have been more suited to a career as a clown in the circus than running a bar. Perhaps, though mismatched to the profession, he felt obliged to continue the family tradition, just as the sons of Kabuki performers are expected to put on make-up and take to the stage. Still, Mark has made the most of the situation in his own unique way, creating a totally original drinking experience.

To be able to regress to the level of a brainless five-year-old while chugging beer is enormously liberating. This was an experience akin to getting shit-faced in a kindergarten, without the subsequent spell in prison. Not that I’d know what drinking in a kindergarten’s actually like, I might add. I do have some principles, for god’s sake.

Info:

Kagaya, Hanasada BLDG. B1F, 5-12, Shinbashi 2-Chome, Minato-Ku, Tokyo.

Phone: 03-3591-2347

Kagaya Homepage

Many a well-intentioned westerner has emerged from the arrival gate of Narita airport, suitcase in hand, with dreams of exploring magnificent temples, mastering the art of haiku, or hiking heroicly up Mount Fuji. And yet, within hours of their arrival they find themselves knocking back tequila slammers in a smoke-filled karaoke bar, clothes drenched in sweat and lager, screaming the theme from “Ghostbusters” dissonantly into a microphone in front of cheering, red-faced businessmen.

It happens so easily, you see. Wherever you stay, there’s invariably a cluster of watering holes within stumbling distance of your house, usually open until 5 AM every single night of the week. And it’s hard to resist the temptation to pop out for a drink or ten after being subjected to a few minutes of the mind-numbingly inane variety shows on TV.

Alternatively, you can buy booze 24 hours a day from convenience stores or even vending machines, and you’re free to openly neck cans of lager in the street without the police spoiling the fun. Drink-driving is never a concern because nobody seems to own a car. If you wanted boozing to be any more convenient you’d have to get alcohol pumped into your arm by an intravenous drip.

Like many foreigners, I was overwhelmed by all this freedom when I first showed up in town. Before I knew it I was sucked into a nocturnal world of sybaritic binge-drinking, with a different reason to get plastered every night- birthdays, sporting events, welcoming parties for new colleagues and visiting friends, then “sayonara” parties when they all went back home again.

There’s also a plethora of local festivals and holidays in every season- In Japan people celebrate the coming of spring by getting smashed in parks under the cherry blossom trees. In summer they convene in beer-gardens on the rooftops of department stores, or in hastily constructed wooden bars on the beach. In December they have countless “year end” parties, followed in January by countless “new year” parties.

After all that consumption you’d think Japanese folks would all have livers the size of medicine balls, but in fact they have among the longest life-spans in the world. Apparently the secret to longevity and good health is getting massively shit-faced on a nightly basis.

This wild side of the Japanese is a far cry from their image as buttoned-up workaholics. More often than not, they’re friendly and excitable when they’ve had a skinful, and happy to invite a foreigner to join their table for a tipple. Japan is a land of cheery, fun-loving drunks, who’d sooner sing pop songs than fight. You’re far more likely to witness a breakdancing Elvis impersonator than a bar-room brawl on a friday night in Tokyo. Seriously!

Consequently drinking has no negative associations. It is, in fact, positively encouraged. Some nights after work I’ve gone drinking with Japanese colleagues, and made an exhibition of myself with shameless beer-downing and belching. Yet the following morning, rather than raising their eyebrows, my co-workers have congratulated me on being “a strong drinker.”

With barrels full of booze readily available at all hours and stigma-free, it’s no wonder that unsuspecting visitors have a tendency to go off the rails when they land in Japan. Even the most impeccably well-behaved ex-pat, who may wince at the sordid tales of excess on this site, will begrudgingly admit that when they first arrived on these shores they were rat-arsed for a good month before they realised where they were.