Day 7: The boat race stadium
In passing conversation a few days back Takanori mentioned "it's the biggest boat racing stadium in Osaka". All I could think to myself was 'There is more than one boat racing stadium in the city?"
I won't try to make like I know the first thing about boat racing, but if a city has built more than one place to do it then in my mind it warrants checking out.
Setting out for the day I also took the opportunity to stop in at a Don Quijote store to try and find a small day bag, as hauling my entire hiking pack for day trips is just silly.
Thankfully Don Quijote stores sell nearly anything you could want, including small backpacks that back be folded up into themselves for when you want to stuff them in a much larger backpack. Now the only reason for me getting dehydrated while wandering is my own stupidity.
But back to the boat races.
I arrived early for the days races, so the place still looked mostly closed and I was a little concerned I wouldn't be able to see any races. But I wandered around and eventually spotted that people were lining up at closed turnstiles.
Looking around I could not see a box office, but I knew that there was a ¥100 admission fee. I peeked at the turnstiles but could not see coin slots. I was confused. Had everyone bought tickets before the arrived? How do I get in?
The lines were starting to grow and it was making me anxious to figure out what I needed to do to get in. Finally a found a security guard near the front of the lines, and after some multiplayer charades, it was clear I simply needed to pay with a coin at the gate.
I took a spot in line, which was conveniently directly under a mist sprayers, which made standing in the heat much more bearable.
After waiting as the lines grew behind me for about 45 minutes, the security guards lined up at each turnstile, and each one flanked by a uniformed women holding a basket. One of the security guards said something sharply and the once listless crowd bristled to life like hairs on and angry dogs neck.
Everyone quickly grabbed their things, and where a disordered crowed once was, crisp lines emerged behind each gate. And then things started happening every quickly.
First, the crowd began marching forward through their gates in an efficient stream. Each depositing a coin into a bin with a guard. The women standing behind then handed me a copy of the day's race program and a small bag that contained... food!
Unlike myself, everyone knew exactly what was going on, and the crowd surged forward, sweeping me up with it. Before I realized it I found myself herded into a new line, but not a line that everyone was getting into.
The line snaked back and forth on itself a few times before ending a a desk where people's groups were being stopped and counted by a guard. After being counted the group stepped forward and each were handed a pink slip of paper.
The line was too dense and quick moving to step out of, so I resigned myself to seeing what happened when I got to the end of said line with a stupid look on my face.
As I approached the end, that stupid look must have been clear to the group I was standing next to in line, and an elderly man from the group looked at me and then looked at the security guard counting people's groups, then back at me and held up a quizzical single finger as if to ask "just you?". I replied by holding up a finger and nodding and he quickly ushered me into his group of three as we approached the guard. Suddenly we were four.
Our new group stepped up and we were all issued pink slips of paper. His group went on their way and he looked back and me and nodded with a knowing smile before disappearing into the crowd. Now I an indecipherable piece of paper to go along with the stupid look on my face.
Shortly after I left the line, it disbanded. I suppose there were no more slips of paper. A quick message to Takanori revealed that this was in fact related to betting at the races. Given that I barely figured out how to get in, I had no faith I could figure out how to place a bet or even tell if I have won, as that process looked even more complex still. The piece of paper found its way into my bag for the day.
So with that I found the concession stand, bought myself an ice-filled cup Coca-Cola and found a seat in the stands to watch the races.
The boats were small, much the size of track racing carts, and extremely powerful. Their speed was surprising, as was the agility of the drivers. I had selected a seat near the far end of the course to see the fast approaches into the turns, and was thrilled to see how much their turns resemebled drift racers taking corners.
All in all it was a great way to spend an afternoon, and fantastic value for money considering it was about $1 to get in and the fed me!
If I find myself with an idle afternoon and don't know what to do, I can see myself grabbing my back and walking down the road to the boat race stadium again.
I won't try to make like I know the first thing about boat racing, but if a city has built more than one place to do it then in my mind it warrants checking out.
Setting out for the day I also took the opportunity to stop in at a Don Quijote store to try and find a small day bag, as hauling my entire hiking pack for day trips is just silly.
Thankfully Don Quijote stores sell nearly anything you could want, including small backpacks that back be folded up into themselves for when you want to stuff them in a much larger backpack. Now the only reason for me getting dehydrated while wandering is my own stupidity.
But back to the boat races.
I arrived early for the days races, so the place still looked mostly closed and I was a little concerned I wouldn't be able to see any races. But I wandered around and eventually spotted that people were lining up at closed turnstiles.
Looking around I could not see a box office, but I knew that there was a ¥100 admission fee. I peeked at the turnstiles but could not see coin slots. I was confused. Had everyone bought tickets before the arrived? How do I get in?
The lines were starting to grow and it was making me anxious to figure out what I needed to do to get in. Finally a found a security guard near the front of the lines, and after some multiplayer charades, it was clear I simply needed to pay with a coin at the gate.
I took a spot in line, which was conveniently directly under a mist sprayers, which made standing in the heat much more bearable.
After waiting as the lines grew behind me for about 45 minutes, the security guards lined up at each turnstile, and each one flanked by a uniformed women holding a basket. One of the security guards said something sharply and the once listless crowd bristled to life like hairs on and angry dogs neck.
Everyone quickly grabbed their things, and where a disordered crowed once was, crisp lines emerged behind each gate. And then things started happening every quickly.
First, the crowd began marching forward through their gates in an efficient stream. Each depositing a coin into a bin with a guard. The women standing behind then handed me a copy of the day's race program and a small bag that contained... food!
Unlike myself, everyone knew exactly what was going on, and the crowd surged forward, sweeping me up with it. Before I realized it I found myself herded into a new line, but not a line that everyone was getting into.
The line snaked back and forth on itself a few times before ending a a desk where people's groups were being stopped and counted by a guard. After being counted the group stepped forward and each were handed a pink slip of paper.
The line was too dense and quick moving to step out of, so I resigned myself to seeing what happened when I got to the end of said line with a stupid look on my face.
As I approached the end, that stupid look must have been clear to the group I was standing next to in line, and an elderly man from the group looked at me and then looked at the security guard counting people's groups, then back at me and held up a quizzical single finger as if to ask "just you?". I replied by holding up a finger and nodding and he quickly ushered me into his group of three as we approached the guard. Suddenly we were four.
Our new group stepped up and we were all issued pink slips of paper. His group went on their way and he looked back and me and nodded with a knowing smile before disappearing into the crowd. Now I an indecipherable piece of paper to go along with the stupid look on my face.
Shortly after I left the line, it disbanded. I suppose there were no more slips of paper. A quick message to Takanori revealed that this was in fact related to betting at the races. Given that I barely figured out how to get in, I had no faith I could figure out how to place a bet or even tell if I have won, as that process looked even more complex still. The piece of paper found its way into my bag for the day.
One of many betting stands between the rushes of betting. Far beyond my meager understanding of things.
So with that I found the concession stand, bought myself an ice-filled cup Coca-Cola and found a seat in the stands to watch the races.
The boats were small, much the size of track racing carts, and extremely powerful. Their speed was surprising, as was the agility of the drivers. I had selected a seat near the far end of the course to see the fast approaches into the turns, and was thrilled to see how much their turns resemebled drift racers taking corners.
All in all it was a great way to spend an afternoon, and fantastic value for money considering it was about $1 to get in and the fed me!
If I find myself with an idle afternoon and don't know what to do, I can see myself grabbing my back and walking down the road to the boat race stadium again.
Comments
Post a Comment