This is a follow-post, check out part 1 here.
I just came back from a crazy long-overdue (and too-short) kendo trip to Tokyo. Well, more kendo-related actually, as the main propose was to visit a friend (more about that below).
Living in Japan, you might think it’s relatively easy to hop on the Shinkansen and travel to various places across the country for keiko – and you’d be right! With excellent transportation options, it’s simple to get around. As you probably know, here in Japan we’re currently experiencing a tourist boom, and many people from abroad are doing the above mentioned dojo-hopping. Perhaps you’ve done it yourself (or are planning to) as well
This year, I’ve been inundated with visitors from all over the world. They often stop by for a keiko or two with me, either before or after heading to Tokyo or other destinations. I can’t help but feel a bit jealous!
The unfortunate reality is that working a regular job in Japan, as in many other places, can be challenging. It’s not just the infamous long work hours and lack of holidays but also the decades-long wage stagnation issue. With steep education fees for my daughter, it’s no surprise that fewer people are having children these days. Although I’m far from poor (and I’m grateful for that), a weekend trip to Tokyo is still a significant expense.
Still, I’ve been desperate to get away for a kendo weekend for ages, so when the chance came up I jumped at it.
When I first came to Osaka, I befriended a kendo guy here – let’s call him L – and we spent a lot of time together for a few years, both in the dojo and outside of it. But life, being what it is, brought changes to his circumstances, and he eventually quit kendo. Since kendo consumed so much of my time, I found it hard to maintain friendships outside of it (I think I only have three non-kendo friends these days: none in Japan and just three back in Scotland). I was always at the dojo or doing kendo-related activities, so meeting up became difficult, and drifting apart was inevitable. That’s what happened with L. Eventually, he left Kansai entirely, and we lost touch, though I knew he ended up in Tokyo.
Unbeknownst to me, L restarted kendo in 2019, just before the pandemic. Then, in April this year (2024), he suddenly reached out – my partner at the Kyoto Taikai was his dojo-mate! We immediately began reconnecting (though, as it turned out, my Kyoto Taikai partner wasn’t actually his dojo mate but someone with the same name!). We quickly planned a meet-up: L made the first move in September, hopping on the Shinkansen to join my Eikenkai session. Naturally, I had to return the gesture, so last weekend, I made my trip to Tokyo
So, although this trip was sold as a mini Musha-Shugyo it was, in fact, more of a chance to hang out with my buddy. We did some kendo of course, but visiting historical dojo, doing kendo with famous hachidan, or going kendo shopping took a back burner. The weekend was basically a bromantic encounter masked behind a mini musha-shugyo!
Meguro ward kendo association central dojo
Quite a few people get in touch with me asking me where to do kendo. For Osaka, it is easy, but sometimes I am randomly asked about kendo in Tokyo as well. My answer depends on how well I know you, or if we have some sort of connection or not. In the former case I just point people to the Tokyo Kendo Association website: it’s their job to help you out.
If someone tells me where they want to do kendo in Tokyo and they can read/speak Japanese, I’ll usually point them towards the more-specific local association (Tokyo kendo association has over 30 associations under it).
Anyway, on the Friday evening I joined the dojo L usually goes to: Meguro wards kendo association central dojo. They practice in a newly-built (it was the venue for Taekwondo in the 2020/21 Olympics) sports centre with a nice dojo space. They practice every day of the week, even on holidays.
I was happy to join an almost two hour kihon-focused keiko session. At some point, however, I was motodachi-ed and did jigeiko with many of that evenings participants, including L. One sensei that was there had incredibly accurate kendo, and he gave me a light, but educational, beating! About 25 people participated, which I heard was a low turnout, usually they have 40+ people plus the odd hachidan or two join.
After keiko we went directly to a local bar run by an Italian gentlemen that served nice beer. L and I were shocked that his dojo mate (45 years old) had never had a pint of Guinness before. We soon rectified that.
Konno dojo (full name: Zoshukan Konno dojo)
On Saturday morning I visited a different friends dojo, bringing L with me. This one, in Shubuya, is owned by and built on land within a shrine. At todays keiko there were about 20 nanadan and another 20 or so of mixed grades and ages. I joined the kihon session and enjoyed breaking down my basics into easy steps, something I haven’t done for a while… at least not in front of other adults. The jigeiko afterwards was fun too, especially facing the main teacher – he was basically like a brick wall!
I’d like to visit this dojo again in the future. I hear it is due to be knocked down next year, with a new dojo taking about two years to complete. During that time they will have to find a different venue (maybe a school gym) to hire and practice. I guess I’ll have to go back again relatively soon.
Straight after keiko we had a quick bite and headed out to our next keiko session.
Not kendo related, but when me and L walked in the convenience store before keiko to get some water we stopped dead in shock: there was a bar in the shop! Neither of us had seen anything like this in Japan.
Reigakudo
I started practicing iaido and kenjutsu relatively soon after I began kendo, so in maybe 1996 or thereabouts (I can’t remember exactly, even when I started kendo). I long ago stopped iaido, but I have continued to practice kenjutsu over the decades. When L told me he had joined Reigakudo this summer I thought it was a good excuse for me to pop in for keiko, mainly to chat to the main teacher – newly minted hachidan and keishicho kendo teacher Yabuki Yuji sensei. Four koryu are trasmitted in the dojo, with Ono-ha itto-ryu kenjutsu being the most well know, and on on Saturday afternoon I took part in two back-to-back keiko sessions.
I use the word “dojo” loosly as it is in fact a church, seemingly the only “church dojo” in the country. It was initially built in 1963 and reconstructed in 2000.
Anyway, keiko was casually and relatively stress free, after which I was gifted a booklet and a tenugui, which was extremely nice of them.
At this point all my (kendo!) friends had seen my social media posts and discovered I was in Tokyo, the result being I got invited to numerous keiko: on Saturday night, Sunday morning, and Sunday afternoon. I turned them all down – it was time for me and my buddy to have a few beers, chill out, and reconnect.
Sunday was set aside for hanging out, but I wanted to do something kind of kendo related since I was in Tokyo. Since it wasn’t far we decided to head over to Yamaoka Tesshu’s temple and grave in Taito ward. I’d been there before almost a decade before.
After paying our respects at the grave L and I slowly meandered over to Ueno park where there was (by chance) a “Ninja festival” happening. It was as bad as it sounds! Quaffing some beer we watched some young Japanese 20-somethings dancing around with swords play fighting on the stage while bad music blazed. I reckon I could’ve taken them all out simultaneously with a sword in one hand (the other was reserved from my beer). As some point I was accosted by someone from some stall offering a “real katana experience.” As interesting as it sounded, I stuck with L and my beer.
As I sat there in the park with looking at an inflatable purple ninja, beer in hand, and thinking about my weekend – keiko in a shrine, keiko in a church, Yamaoka Tesshu, and the Ninja Festival – I thought back on when I came to this country for the first time a quarter of a century ago. I was a 26 year old kendo nidan and knew almost nothing about Japan, except that is was mysterious and some sort of ancient land. I was, why I can’t fathom now, confident I knew what kendo was (and by extension “budo”). Of course, it turns out that Japan was not the amazing mysterious land of my dreams, and I knew pretty much nothing about kendo.
The shrine, the church, and the inflatable purple ninja… Japan is a confused place. It really is. I was glad to have the time to hang out with L and just basically chat about our lives: work, home, and dojo. Neither of us is from Japan, but it is our home, and kendo is what connects us.
—
BONUS:
For fun, I took this post – minus my ending section – and pasted it into ChatGTP. “Write a poignant conclusion to this blog post.” Here is the unedited AI response:
"As I boarded the Shinkansen back to Osaka, I couldn’t help but reflect on the weekend. It wasn’t the kendo extravaganza I had initially envisioned, filled with famous sensei and historical dojo, but it was something far more meaningful—a chance to reconnect with an old friend and remember why we started this journey in the first place. Sometimes, the most important keiko isn’t on the dojo floor but in the moments spent laughing, reminiscing, and forging bonds outside of it.
This trip reminded me that while kendo is a lifelong pursuit, the friendships we build along the way are just as enduring—and perhaps even more essential. After all, it’s not just about the strikes we land or the techniques we perfect but the people we share the journey with.
Until the next Shinkansen ride, the next dojo visit, or the next pint of Guinness—kendo, like life, is better with good company."
Not bad!
