A Sumo Wrestling Tour Of Japan

When you think of Japan, you think of flashing neon lights, raw fish, ancient temples, kimonos, martial arts, and fat men in nappies hugging each other. In the land of the rising sun, sumo wrestling is big, and I'm not just talking about the size of the lunch plates. Six times a year, the best wresters in the world get together to fight it out for the title of grand champion, and the biggest is Tokyo's New Year Grand Sumo tournament, and this year, I'll be there to see it.

The new year tournament is the one everyone wants to win. I arrive early in Ryogoku, eastern Tokyo, where the stadium is already pretty lively, despite the fact that the big boys aren't going to be fighting for hours yet. And this only day one of 15. This year, the big news is the arrival of a wrestler that calls himself Kotooshu, from Bulgaria, the first European with a real chance of winning the tournament. A Japanese friend points out, however, that he's up against the reigning champion Asashoryu, undefeated in over a year.

The jetlag from yesterday's 12-hour sleepless flight is starting to wear off, and after buying my ticket using my best pidgin Japanese, I head off to find something to eat to get me through the day. Last night in Tokyo was spent drinking Guinness in an Irish theme pub among the bright lights in a seedier part of town, so this morning is all about a hangover cure breakfast of sushi and green tea. I encounter a problem when I remember that I can't read the menus, but it seems that the practically-minded Japanese have already thought ahead, and there are little plastic models of all the food on offer in the various eatery window.

I point to a plate of raw fish and find the word for "tea" in my phrase book, and within minutes, the waitress is back with my order. Apparently you're supposed to eat sushi with your hands, which is great for tourists who can't master chopsticks (you can't get a knife and fork in Toyko).

Back at the stadium for early afternoon, and the action is really starting to kick off, with the bouts getting increasingly violent. There are virtually no tourists here, and the crowd seem to consist entirely of toothless old Japanese men waving newspapers over their heads. At one stage two men sitting in the front row demonstrate their lightning quick reflexes, despite their age, in dodging out of the way of two wrestlers who have managed to hurl themselves out of the raised wrestling ring.

The tension is palpable by time the final bout of the day comes around. The two wrestlers circle each other for a while, throwing handfuls of salt around (for good luck, apparently), and slap their massive bellies in an attempt to intimidate their opponent. This goes on for about five minutes, until they finally start slapping each other, and one gets a hold of the other's leg, and it's all over in ten second's flat.

Day one is over, but there are 14 more to go, and the bright lights of another night in Tokyo are calling.