Well, we had a very deep sleep on our little futon beds in our small hotel room. We woke up to the sound of rain outside our window. Juyoh Hotel has unlimited Japanese tea, so we made the most of that to wake us up.
The first mission for the day was to check out some local temples. According to our novelty map (with no accord for scale or orientation) there was at least three or four in the vicinity.
It was pretty cold, but calm outside. We donned transparent umbrellas (500yen) and made our way down to the river, where apparently, there was a temple - indicated on novelty map by a happy looking cross-legged monk, with a tear exploding from his head. Everyone we came across had the same plastic umbrellas. Even the cyclists, cruising on their brand-new but old-style 'upright' cycles had umbrellas as well. They were the epitome of cool. Trying to do that in wellington would suicide on two wheels.
The temple was exquisitely manicured, and completely deserted. There were solid stone A-shaped archways that framed the entrance way as we approached. The trees either side of the path were as twisted and gnarled as bonsai, but on a much larger scale. Apparently this temple was home to the sun god (which we found ironic given the conditions) and also the god of craftsmanship. It had massive wooden beams, with brass or copper trim here and there. some movable low gates stopped tourists and the like from entering the temple building itself, so we stood at the doorway, looking in. The temple grounds were super quiet, eventually a couple of monks came out and handed us an English information page.
We left the temple, wandering through the streets back to the hotel via a different route than the one we'd taken originally. Popped into a magazine store, the magazine rack had some good titles - Popeye (but not Popeye the one we know), Oilyboy, Leon.
Soon our bellies were getting the best of us, it was getting close to lunch and we'd had nothing to eat yet. We passed what looked like it could have been a sushi parlor. It was very discrete, with faux rice-paper opaque doors. We decided to down umbrellas and have a closer look. As we were fumbling with our stuff by the front door, a balding Japanese waiter came to the front door and ushered us in. the first thing that hit us was the smell of cigarette smoke. There was three old sushi chefs behind the counter, serving five 'salary men' on their lunch break. You could tell the place had been around for ages, there were photos on the wall where the chefs were posing with some dignitaries or politicians, they seemed at least 20 years younger. To be honest, our Japanese is rubbish. So we decided confidence was the key. We grabbed a seat at the low sushi-bar, said our Konichiwas and received a stream of Japanese. We both sat there with blank stares. So the eldest chef gave us a menu. In Japanese. More blank stares. The chefs thought this was hilarious. The dug out a menu with pictures for us to consider. two A4 pages of sushi.
Andy: Ahhh... This! (cucumber sushi)
Waitress: Aigh! (yes) ...Two?
Andy: Great! Ummm... This! (something or other on rice)
Chefs: <Laughing>
Waitress: No
Andy: Oh. ok. How about ... this? (could be squid on rice)
Waitress: Aigh! (yes)
The soon a banana leaf was draped on the the wooden bar top in front of us, with two mounds of shaved ginger for Adri and I. Green tea was served. Miso soup was served. The chefs went to work, with the skilled nonchalance of decades of practice. When made, the sushi was hand-placed on the banana leaf for us to eat.
Old Chef: Wasabi ok?
Andy & Adri: Yes! Wasabi is ok!
It was delicious. By far the freshest and nicest sushi we'd ever had. We finished up and rubbed our bellies, picked up the bill. Not even too much wasabi!
Back at the hotel, i'd received an email from Patrick, a Tokyo local who we'd arranged to meet. He said to rendezvous at Tokyo station, and had kindly given directions. We high-tailed it down the road to the subway.
Now Adri and I were still feeling a little nervous about the train system. I guess because of our experience the previous day. Boy, It is truly massive - the number of lines, the express trains (that skip some stops), the streams of people rushing through the gates. The subway maps look as tangled as my last knitting attempt. Following Patrick's directions, we paid for 5 stops on the subway, where we were to transfer to a different line. The transfer line, Uono, was a big one and we soon found ourselves gawking nervously up at the various maps and signs, the only stationary people in a sea of moving bodies. After a few minutes, a tanned man in a crisp shirt came up to us, asking if he could help. Marcos, originally from Brasil, had been in Japan for the last 8 years. He walked us up the stairs to the new line, and made sure we got on the right train.
Once at Tokyo Station, we made a call to Patrick's cell phone. Adri kept a steady stream of 10yen coins feeding into the slot while I did the talking. We met him at one of the exits of the station. Patrick is originally from Melbourne, Australia, and has been in Japan for the last 15 years. Originally he came here to study - majoring in Social Sciences, and is now halfway through the first year of his PHD (written in Japanese). He was invaluable as a guide, translator, historian and as a top dude.
He took us to the palace grounds, where we wandered around its wide paths in the rain. There was a massively wide moat from which a 10m high rock wall emerged. Its was made from huge charcoal coloured rocks and looked slippery and impenetrable. It felt like you'd slipped back in time a few thousand years - I kept expecting to glimpse a black ninja stealthily scaling his way up the wall. Below, Fat lazy Carp sat under the water's surface. They were about the size of a rugby player's thigh, and looked hungry. We were pretty much the only people visiting the grounds, there was an old policemen on a bike (with umbrella) touring the grounds, and a girl in her teens - Patrick guessed she was a forlorn lover.
As a contrast, our next stop was a Out-of-our-price-range shopping area. It had all the big names: Prada, Gucci, D&G. Immaculately presented young business people wandered round, many couples (Patrick informed us that apparently the thing to do when you're on a date is to go shopping). We went to the top floor of an enclosed triangular-shaped complex. There was a big open area, with red carpet, an obscenely massive christmas tree. A sloped incline wound its way up around the space, about 8 floors or so, with high-class shops dotted at intervals around the incline. We went to the top floor and all had some expensive gilato ice cream. You know its going to hurt your wallet when there's real gold flakes sprinkled on the two cherries on your Chocolate gelato. I think each one was about $16. ouch.
Around the corner was another shopping district, a street which is really popular with japanese teens for getting the latest fashions. There were some great shop names, all in Engrish. Romantic Standard, Street Wear: Extra Dope Style! Its where you'd see kids from the Tokyo Fruits photography exhibition that came to Wellington a while back. Adri and I checked out one store that specialised in cutesy-pie dresses. 280bpm happy-hardcore music was the ambience, and there was a frilly dress that was straight out of Alice in Wonderland, complete with a hood and fluffy bunny rabbit ears. Around the corner was another street where young japanese girls go to be talent scouted by modelling agencies. They dress up to the nines, hair and make up looking flawless. We all marvelled at the long legs and the skirts so short they were practically belts.
Patrick took us to one of his favourite stores, Tokyu Hands. It had about 10floors, and was a hardware store but on speed. We checked out the 'emergency' department. They are really freaked out about earthquakes over here, as they have one that kills people about once a year. There was a hand-gyro-powered 3-in-one torch, radio and cell phone charger. So cool! The next floor up was a craft area, with a great range of textured papers, stencils, sponges, pretty much everything. They even had a great range of real animal skins. I tried to convince Adri that our Ford Escort needed a new steering wheel cover, and that Manta Ray skin was just the material. They even had a tub of real frog coin purses, dyed black/red/green/gold/yellow, eyes replaced with little bobbles, bums replaced with zips. It was really dodgy and bit sickening.
Next up was dinner. Patrick led us to a restaurant with a massive straw jandal emblem, and a tiny door. It was like climbing into a kitchen cupboard. We were led down a long flight of stone stairs, (see-through umbrellas in plastic sheaths please - no drips) to some low tables. Patrick ordered for us, a range of things - Fried Fish , assorted Yakitori sticks, Tofu infused with cheese, Premium beer and Hot Sake. Over dinner we discussed Patrick's time here. He'd done his masters paper on illegal immigrants in Japan. Japan has pretty strict policy on immigration. They want people to come to Japan, stay for maybe two years at most to experience the country, then leave. They let in only 400 unskilled labourers each year. 400! Every country has its own perceived flow of illegal immigrants, Australia with the Indonesian boat people, America has Mexicans jumping the border. With Japan its kinda different, as its a hard country to get to geographically. The Chinese mobsters smuggle a few people in each year, but usually its just people who overstay their tourist visas. Also he mentioned that Japan has some sort of a diplomatic tie with Brasil - which explained why we were seeing a few brazilian looking types amongst the subway crowds.
He also reckoned the most interesting people to talk to in Japan were the old people. In particular the elderly who had stories of living through World War Two, the bombings and destruction and then the healing and rebuilding. They had a bloody hard time, especially those who lived in the cities during the aftermath. There was not a lot of food to go around, and you can see this in the size of some of the elderly. Its like you see one generation and they're all tiny, then there's this cut-off and they're all so much taller. Almost like how growth rings of a tree compress during times of hardship.
Sitting back in our comfy cushioned chairs, bellies full to the brim, Patrick taught us a good quick way of working out the Yen to NZ Dollar conversion. Knock the last two zeros off the number, then double that. Our eyes widened at how much our meal was going to be that night. Ah, but you only get to go to Tokyo once eh?!?
We fed a thousand Yen note into the Subway ticket machine and made our way to the 'Mori museum'. They were exhibiting, of all things, contemporary Indian art. All three of us jumped on the elevator to the gallery, located on the 56th floor. It rocketed up so fast yet so smoothly the only indicator we were moving was our ears popping. We were pretty knackered after the day's missioning but we managed a dazed tour of the gallery space. A life-sized reclining elephant greeted us as we entered. It was made out of a grey fabric and has thousands of grey bindi dots - but in the form of little sperm symbols that swirled across the animal's form. The exhibition had 20 or so artists and a range of mediums, mostly sculptural, some video installations and plenty of paintings. Thematically most were concerned with War, Terrorism, India's rapid growth & its congestion.
After the gallery visit, we checked out the view from the panoramic lookout. Usually it offers you a magnificent view of Tokyo in which you can appreciate its scale and sprawlingness. Not this night though, as it was a misty haze - cloud and patches of rain obscured the view. Instead we listened briefly to a local japanese musician (Bonny Pink?) perform in front of a black and white suited audience. Boys to Men were to perform on the night we are to leave, pretty gutted that we missed that.
We said farewell to Patrick and chugged home on the Hibaya line, smooth sailing thanks to our awesome guide.
More to come tomorrow, when we attempt to get tickets for the Studio Ghibli museum. --Andy--
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