It was time to do Tokyo like tourists. Or more – like touristy tourists. We’d seen a lot of Tokyo already, but we’d not seen the full-on hustle and bustle, bathed in neon light that we had expected. We arrived into Shibuya early as we were to go 230 metres upwards to the brand new observation deck on Shibuya Sky. We were unfortunately told that conditions weren’t great and that we’d have to try again later. We were a tiny bit puzzled as we were surrounded by cloudless skies with still air (errr, is that what you call the opposite of strong winds?). Alas, they probably knew what they were on about, so we thought we’d tick off a few things before returning. We went for some breakfast first, which we arrived at via the famously busy zebra crossing; Shibuya Scramble. We waited at the red light, and waited for more and more people to arrive. Except they didn’t. By the time the green man showed his little featureless face, there was around 20 people crossing the road. You know, like the crossing outside Debenhams on the Moor. Rubbish.
We decided to head for Don Quijote, which is basically the Japanese version of B&M. I expected to find some weird and wonderful toys in here, but it was mainly the same tat you find in the English equivalents – just more of it. I did enjoy that even the most mundane of items, for example a shoe-horn, had a tiny screen with a 5-minute promo video. Also, you know how some shops will have a song playing? Try having a different song playing every 10 metres or so – headfuck!
Well, that was fun. Julie bought herself some insoles for her shoes as, WOULD YOU BELIEVE IT, her shoes were hurting. If only there was some historical evidence that this would happen for the NINETEENTH HOLIDAY IN A ROW.
Julie, having skipped breakfast, followed her nose and found a ‘cheesedog’ – basically fried breaded cheese. It was delightful, she tells me. This is important for a future blog, so remember this, please.
We went back to Shibuya Sky, and thankfully we were allowed up this time. We had unreal views, overlooking most of Tokyo and, owing to the beautiful weather, we could actually see Mt Fuji, a cool 75 miles away. It’s quite an overwhelming feeling having this view of such an amazing city. The way the deck was set out was great as well; big clean windows to take pictures through instead of the nets you often get, a little corner where you could queue for a short time, so you could get a picture or two with no other poindexters in shot.
After a good 45 minutes, we abseiled down and it was time to go t…..oh! Oh! Wheeey, you fell for it! Obviously, we did not abseil down the building. Idiot. We took the lift. Actually, this might be the place where we took the 15 elevators down to get back to the ground level. Hard work.
And so, onwards to Tower Records, a humongous building of 12 or so floors, full of mostly CDs and DVDs, but a big helping of LPs too. It was pretty cool to have a rummage, but I couldn’t help but feel they were spreading out for spreading out’s sake. About 20 to 30 of the newest releases all had their own huge displays with posters, t-shirts, and different formats.
The plan from here was to walk toward Shinjuku, taking in various sites along the way. As we were making our way towards Shinjuku, we took a slight detour down Shimokitazawa, a mile strip of shops and eateries, like the Japanese version of Camden Lock (basically – black t-shirts with white slogans, everywhere). Julie found herself a shop to try on and buy a nice skirt. OK guys, time for another… Reeeeeeeeeewwwwwiiiiiiind…
At some point at the start of the holiday, it was decided that I would handle cash. It’s a skill on my CV, after all. The reason being that 99% of places only took cash, and we were regularly spending, and as such it’s quicker to dip into my pocket than Julie to rummage through her bag. However, on the way to this place, Julie decided that I could not be trusted with the money. What was this based on? I’m unsure. Unfounded rumours. I was doing so well up to that point; I hadn’t lost a dime. Back to the present, and Julie, who had taken around 8000 yen (£60ish) had realised that the money was no longer on her person. She stood opposite me, furrowed brow, asking me to double-check my four pockets. I say double-check, but she told me to double-check about 5 times, so really I was decuple-checking (yeah, I Googled it). Anyway, the money was gone, but given we were frittering money away every second on all sorts of shit, we soon got over it. Let bygones be bygones! It could be worse! Life’s too short! Worst things happen at sea! FUCKING HELL, JULIE! No, sorry, no, it’s fine.
It was time for my favourite part of, well, life. Food time. We found ourselves a lovely little ramen place; quiet, quaint, with delicious food, and we were able to order from a little ticket machine again, hooray! There was also some hilarious conversation between Julie and I, where we confused the reflective door with more patrons in the restaurant, until we realised that two of them were us. That conversation will stay with me for the rest of my life.
Onwards to.. well, right next door. Before our very eyes, an ice cream place. But not just ice cream; they also did cookie dough in a cone. Not cookie dough ice cream, cookie dough full stop. This momentarily confused me as my mind, body, and soul expected cold and it received lukewarm. Once I acclimatised to such madness, I enjoyed it immensely.
The sun was getting ready to leave by now, so we had to get our skates on to see Shinjuku Gyoen National Garden. We walked like absolute beasts, and somehow managed to go the wrong way, only to then find that the garden itself had shut hours ago. So essentially, we re-tread the same half-mile path three times.
It was now the evening, and we were in Shinjuku. This was a conscious decision when faced with ‘which way round shall we do it?’. My research pointed to doing Shinjuku by night, and I reckon we made the correct choice. We seemed to walk around a hell of a lot, but it was all gravy; marvelling at the adverts that adorned huge buildings, each floor jam-packed with shops, restaurants, animal cafes, and other businesses, all with big video screens and brightly-lit signs.
We wandered up Yakitori Alley which, to be honest, we hadn’t realised we’d done until we’d done it. We then headed to the Golden Gai, which was much better. It was a tiny little neighbourhood of maybe three streets, full of tiny little bars. True, it’s a tourist trap; there are door charges, mandatory drink purchases, even time limits, but the key thing was – there were actually barely any tourists around *stares intently at a mirror*. We wandered around, trying to find the best bar. We stumbled upon a cute little bar pumping out some Atlantic era Ornette Coleman (actually, it was some nondescript jazz, I just wanted to sound intelligent). There was no cover charge here, though drinks were about £7 each (me: red wine, Julie: sake). The barman was lovely, despite the biggest language barrier we’d encountered thus far.
Yes, that is Julie feeling drunk after merely holding a drink aloft. One last plan before much needed sleep; another observation deck. This one was indoor, and less central, but it was free. It was a bit of a trek, but we made our way to the Tokyo Metropolitan Government Building. Lovely views again, and nice to see the city at night. It had started raining which was a shame for photos, though I turned it around and won a Pulitzer Prize* for my arty raindrop photo.
*I did not.
15 days in Japan. 