Firefly in Japan on the Your-Japan Blog Network

One day, to indulge my interest in performance cars I was doing a Google search on Tokyo and Skylines and I stumbled onto a site. This site was run by a guy living outside of Tokyo with a Nissan Skyline, and he was talking about this place called ¡ÈDaikoku Futou¡É. Apparently it was a highway rest stop mainly designed for trucks until a couple of years ago, when suddenly it became the ¡Èunderground¡É place to show off your performance car, and get together with your petrol-headed friends. This guy was writing about some crazy experiences he had there, and about all the amazing cars on display. I quickly made up my mind to see this place for myself. Unfortunately, Daikoku Futou apparently only got crowded quite late at night, around 12 or 1. The schedule wasn¡Çt fixed either – it happened sometimes Friday, sometimes Saturday, but sometimes no-one even showed up. Apparently, the police often showed up as well and shooed everyone away. Sounds a bit risky, but oh well, I thought, I¡Çll just go and try my luck.

Back then, my girlfriend had a very nice BMW. I called her up, and told her about Daikoku Futou and the site I had found. She excitedly agreed to come with me, which was good since you can¡Çt really walk onto a Highway rest stop. She is a petrol head too, and drives a manual car better than any woman I¡Çve ever seen.

Friday came quickly, and she came over to pick me up in her car. I took the wheel as normal, and we were quickly underway. Her beemer was a very expensive car, but frankly it¡Çs a pretty flat experience to drive it. The car itself is very smooth, and comfortable, and it has safety features up the exhaust pipe, and that¡Çs exactly why it¡Çs boring to drive. Those German engineers saw me coming from a mile away - every time I tried to do something vaguely fun in the car, it stopped me. For instance, once I was turning a corner at a good speed, and I thought it would be fun to do a handbrake slide. With a gleam in my eye, I casually reached over and gently pulled the handbrake on. I grinned in anticipation of the familiar tire screech and sideways motion. *DING*, the car chimed. Nothing. Frustrated, I applied more pressure to the handbrake. *DING* the car responded flatly. Nothing happened. An image popped into my mind : a nerdy German BMW engineer wearing glasses and a white professor coat. He was rubbing his hands together and giggling at me. Annoying.

After a few mistakes and getting off at the wrong exit, we finally arrived to Daikoku Futou. The circular road curled around us, as we spiraled down and down into the car park. We heard Daikoku Futou before we saw it: a dull sound of rhythmic beating bass and muffled music. Finally, we turned the last corner. A car park full of people and incredible cars, and people milling around everywhere sprawled out before us. Eyes wide, we found an empty space, parked, and got out of the car. It was almost like a club – a few people with vans outfitted with huge speakers were playing music loudly. You could select the kind of music you enjoy, and hang out near the van playing your genre. A few people were dancing on the road near the cars. The underground vibe permeated the whole parking lot. People walked around talking about their cars, or other peoples cars, or cars they were going to buy. As a foreigner, I somehow blended into the throng of people, and no-one seemed to really notice me.

The whole place seemed to run on a value based system – who was the hottest car? Who spent the most money? Who has the most LCD screens installed in completely useless places? One guy was showing his car to someone. It was a regular sedan, but had 9 LCD screens. Two mounted on the inside of the front windscreen, one in the middle of the dashboard, two mounted in the headrests of the front seats, two mounted in the headrests of the BACK seats (to allow the car behind them to enjoy the movie they watching?), and as he eagerly displayed as he opened the boot, two mounted under his boot. Surrounding people nodded and looked on, as they wished they had more LCD screens in their own cars.

Suddenly one guy drove into the car park, with a completely normal, boring Nissan sedan. It was a dull green colour, and a completely uninspiring car. He drove it into the middle of a very large crowd and started revving the engine. People looked at the car in disgust. Someone started booing. He kept revving for a while longer until he had a sizable audience. Then, he pressed a button on the inside of the door, and the door opened – straight up, like a Lamborghini. He got out of the car with a big goofy smile on his face, and was greeted by cheers and clapping as the crowd realised he was one of them.

Impressed, I walked around, taking everything in. I stumbled across a set of three identical silver Skylines sat together, parked in perfect parallel. They were spotless, extremely well looked after, and breathtaking. I walked over with my jaw on the ground, as I examined the cars and peered into the side windows. A Japanese guy walked over, a bit nervous that someone else was standing around his car.

¡ÈHello, how are you?¡É I greeted him warmly in Japanese.

He peered at me suspiciously.

¡ÈUm.. I think you have a really nice car. I love Skylines.¡É I said.

They seemed to be the magic words, as suddenly a grin spread across his face and he walked over and shook my hand.

¡ÈThanks! I¡Çm Jiro. Nice to meet you! Do you have a car?¡É he asked.

¡ÈNot really. I¡Çve always wanted a Skyline, but I don¡Çt have one. We came in my girlfriends car though,¡É I said pointing out the BMW.

Jiro looked at the BMW, completely uninterested. The conversation quickly returned to Skylines. After a few minutes of chatting, I asked him a question.

¡ÈI hope you don¡Çt think this is a rude question, since we just met and everything, but if you have time, would it be alright to take me for a little ride? Would that be ok?¡É I asked hesitantly.

He almost fell over. ¡ÈOf course it¡Çs ok! Absolutely¡Ä. sure!! Hop right in.¡É Jiro opened the door and gestured.

¡ÈWow, thanks very much. Can my girlfriend come as well?¡É I asked.

¡ÈNo problem. Lets go!¡É Jiro said excitedly.

We all sat down in the Skyline. He turned the key, and the engine roared to life. A smile played across his face as he reversed the car. In his excitement, he stalled it.

¡ÈSHIT.¡É Jiro cursed as he forced the engine to life again. He peered around at his friends outside, hoping they hadn¡Çt seen his mistake. Of course they had, and were laughing at him. Jiro frowned, but quickly brightened up as the engine started getting louder. We ascended up the circular ramp.

¡ÈThe engine can get a bit loud. When it¡Çs going full-pelt, you can¡Çt even hear people shouting in the car. It¡Çs good for my girlfriend, when she starts talking. I just rev the engine. Haha!¡É Jiro said. I could imagine my girlfriend frowning in the back seat.

We continued up the ramp. I checked the speedo. 30km an hour.

¡ÈWatch this,¡É Jiro said, as he increased speed to 65km an hour. The engine was strangely loud for 65km an hour. I looked at him questioningly. He grinned at me, and pointed to the gear stick. My eyes opened in shock as I saw we were in first gear. He changed to 2nd, and the car became quiet. We got onto the highway, and drove. The car felt smooth and table. The speed limit on Japanese highways is 80km an hour (I know. It¡Çs stupid). We quickly accelerated to 110km an hour. He kept accelerating. Suddenly, we were going at 160km an hour. I was shocked at how smooth and stable the car felt. I mentioned this to Jiro.

¡ÈRight. Skylines are built for speed. That¡Çs why I love them. Actually¡Ä why don¡
Çt I show you a bit of speed now? Is that ok?¡É Jiro asked with a devilish grin.

I looked at the speedo wavering around 160km an hour – already twice the speed limit. A bit of speed? What the hell does that mean? I wondered.

¡ÈUh, ok, sure. I guess.¡É I gave my reserved consent.

Jiro floored the pedal. I was pasted back into my seat. Jiro started laughing, a deep, terrifying belly laugh. I was shocked we could accelerate so fast from 160km an hour. We quickly reached 200km. The engine was getting loud. Really loud. A car was in our lane. Jiro flashed his lights at the car, which quickly moved out of the way. We sped past them like they were standing still. 220km. 230km. 240km. The highway was flashing past at ridiculous speeds. Jiro¡Çs previous laughter had turned into grim determination and intense concentration. One mistake at these speeds¡Ä..

I shook away those thoughts. 250km an hour. The speedo was working hard for its gains now. The engine was so loud I couldn¡Çt hear myself think. The thin, two laned highway suspended above the streets of Tokyo seemed narrower than ever. I shouted loudly, just to see if I could hear myself. I couldn¡Çt. I wondered how my girlfriend was going in the back. Although, at 250km an hour, if we had any kind of accident it wouldn¡Çt matter where in the car you were sitting. The engine was deafeningly loud. 255km an hour.

As the speedometer neared 260km an hour, I realized this is one of the dumber things I¡Çd done in my life. Oh well, you only live once, I reasoned. Yes, and I might not be living for as long as planned, depending on the outcome of this car ride. I had a sudden impulse to tap Jiro on the shoulder, to make him slow down. Actually, I thought, that would be suicide. If Jiro was distracted for the briefest of seconds, we¡Çd end up as organic highway paste. I gulped, turned pale, and redundantly checked my seatbelt again.

We hit 260km an hour. This seemed to satisfy Jiro. We started slowing down. I noticed I had been holding my breath, and with a gasp, I started breathing again. We were quickly back at 150km an hour. My heart was beating fast, and I was squirming as adrenaline shot through my body.

¡ÈLets stop and get a drink.¡É Jiro suggested.

I nodded numbly.

We got on the next offramp, which was very long. All of a sudden, we heard police sirens. A wet thump sounded throughout the car, as all of our hearts simultaneously jumped into our throats. Jiro started sweating. We looked over, and saw a police patrol car on a regular road. Exiting the offramp would take us directly to the police car.

¡ÈFuck,¡É Jiro said. His breathing sped up, and he grit his teeth. About 50 meters down from us, a overhead bridge extended over the road. Jiro pulled into the emergency lane and we sat in the middle of the overhead bridge. He switched off the car, and the lights. We sat as quietly as possible. Only the sound of our fast raspy breathing broke the uneasy silence. We waited for the inevitable police officer, police siren, police bike, police cruiser. I wondered what happened to foreigners in Japanese jail. I gulped hard. We waited for 10 minutes, but it felt like a month. Finally, Jiro gingerly started the car, and we moved off slowly. We exited the offramp, and pulled into a convenience store. Jiro turned off the car. I opened the door and almost fell out. My whole body was shaking, my throat was dry, and my head felt dizzy.

I went into the convenience shop, and bought a coke. It took me a minute to pull the change out of my pocket with my quivering fingers. When I finally managed to get the lid off, it was the best tasting and most refreshing drink I¡Çve ever had in my entire life.

I stumbled back to the car, and sat down with my girlfriend. We looked at each other, and wondered together how close we just came to death and imprisonment. A heavy silence hung between us, one of many silences we shared that day. After a few minutes of starting at each other, I cracked a smile, and snorted a laugh. She broke too, and started laughing. We shared a feeling of shock, relief, adrenaline, excitement. We laughed together, and felt alive.