No Regrets!

Dave emerged from his room with an enthusiastic high-five. Eight solid hours of sleep. We took a lazy morning to recharge and blog before heading out into another crisp, sunny Tokyo day.

It took us a while to figure out the Tokyo taxi system, but I thnk we’ve cracked it. Red windshield lights mean vacant, yellow means off-duty, and no light means occupied. If you hail one that is not available, sometimes the driver will do the very Japanese thing of making an X with their fingers, which means no. Inside the taxis, Dave and I are becoming very familiar with the seven commercials in rotation on the seat-back screens. Some of them, including one that seems to feature a transgender bunny, are particularly annoying. I don’t know how the drivers, who have to listen to them all day, stay sane.

Our first stop was Ryōgoku, the heart of sumo and home to Tokyo’s famous arena, Kokugikan. We wandered aroud the outside for a bit before ducking into the small Sumo Museum, which displayed photos, artifacts, and tributes to Terunofuji, the recently retired yokozuna (highest-ranking wrestler). It’s easy to chuckle at the sound of slapping flesh and jiggling bellies, but I appreciate the sport for its simplicity and subtle strategy,

Next door, the old train station featured a model sumo ring. As we stood there, I proposed a new version of the sport, “Capture the Flag”, where one wrestler guards a flag in the middle of the ring while the other tries to grab it.

To get some extra steps in, we took a walk along the Sumida River. The promenade along the river is surprisingly barren, with no flowers, no vendors, no paddle boats, no cafes. Just concrete and water. They could really jazz up that waterfront a bit, I think. On this walk, we discovered that World Series Game 3 between the Toronto Blue Jays and Los Angeles Dodgers was going into extra innings. We followed the action on our phones as it stretched to 18 innings, tying the all-time record for longest World Series game ever.

It was also on this walk that we started to refine our offensive game of mimicking the Japanese accent in English. They often transpose their L’s with their R’s when speaking, so I’ll do the same and say something like “Time to do some brogging.” This little game has invaded almost every conversation, and if we keep it up long enough, I’m afraid I might have to see a speech therapist when I return home and explain that “I have a rittle probrem”. For added effect and offensiveness, I have taken to saying simple phrases like “Must use toiret” in a gruff, samurai voice.

Our walk took us to the enormous Tokyo Skytree, the tower that Dave conquered a few days ago. The approach to Skytree is dramatic, begging us to keep looking up kept looking down to check the score of the game as we walked.

The base of Skytree is a multilevel retail complex, with shops everywhere filled with luxury goods, jewelry, Japanese souvenirs, and food. There’s not a single shop selling sports gear, not a single shop selling caps or jerseys for what is supposed to be Japan’s national sport, baseball. In fact, Dave and I can’t believe that there is no one walking around with baseball jerseys or caps for their favorite teams, and there seems to be almost no enthusiasm at all for Japanese baseball star Shohei Ohtani, who not only has established himself as one of the greatest players in baseball history but is also in the World Series with the Los Angeles Dodgers right now. Strange that a sport that is supposed to be so popular seems to have so little public enthusiasm.

We stopped at a shop called The Matcha Tokyo, which has everything matcha. I’ve become big fan of matcha in recent years. I got a matcha granola bar and a matcha banana smoothie, which was quite delightful.

After a taxi to the Ginza district and with some time to kill, we popped into the Art Aquarium Museum. After making our way through a nondescript office building filled with retail shops, we got tickets and went inside. This place was a spectacular surprise. Like teamLab, this is a true sensory experience, visually stimulating, an Instagram dream. A kaleidoscope of light, glass, and water, with live goldfish swirling through glowing tanks. Fish being subjected to colors and flashing lights like this all day every day are probably induced into some sort of psychosis, but it’s cool for the humans. The Japanese are really into their colorful sensory exhibits.

We wandered the streets of Ginza for a bit. Dave has a thing for Japanese convenience store chains, and he brought me into each of them to explain the finer points of each. 7-Eleven is all about the egg salad sandwiches, and Family Mart is all about “famichiki”, ready-to-eat boneless fried chicken sitting in a display case. Lawson has more of a grocery store vibe.

Dinner was at Chanko Tamakairiki Ginza. Inside another nondescript building, a tiny sign, and an elevator up to the 8th floor. Chanko hotpots are the traditional food of sumo wrestlers. To me, it tasted a lot like Mom’s chicken soup, complete with chicken meatballs that have the texture of gefilte fish.

With a Japan Series baseball game underway, Dave and I made another attempt to visit a local sports bar to experience the game. Our first stop, B ONE, had a couple of TVs with the game on, but the place was nearly empty with a couple of lonely dudes half paying attention and sipping on beer. We then went to the Hub in Ginza, which was a slightly better scene. Not the raucous crowd we’d hoped for, with a few folks emitting a pitter-patter of golf claps when something exciting happened on TV.

As the evening wore on, the bar became more crowded, mostly from “salarymen” (office workers) who had finished their day and removed their ties to socialize. I’m impressed at how orderly bar service is, with a queue to place your order and a designated spot to stand and wait for your drinks.

My friend Haruka showed up to catch the end of the game with us. Only a casual fan, she had lots of interesting questions about the sport and some of the graphics that they were showing on the TV. Dave and I did our best to give her the basics. The bar slowly filled up with more baseball fans, but it still never met our expectations.

After the game ended with a Hanshin Tigers loss, we did a bit of Ginza bar-hopping with Haruka. First to a fancy whiskey bar, and then to an alleyway tucked beneath rumbling train tracks. As trains rumbled overhead, we had a long and very interesting conversation with Haruka about dating, relationships, love, and marriage in the US and Japan. Haruka couldn’t believe what she was hearing. I think we blew her mind.

It was getting late, so we called it a night. A goodbye hug with Haruka. Maybe I’ll see her in another nine years.

This morning, we filled out form to have the hotel do some laundry, a good opportunity to get some of my owl-shitted clothes cleaned. We were scheduled to visit Ueno Park Zoo, but I nixed it after seeing horribly depressing pictures and reading reviews about how poorly the animals are treated there. Instead, we just walked around Ueno Park itself. It’s huge, wedged into the middle of the city like Central Park, but it’s rather unspectacular. In any case, a good chance to get our steps in. Dave stopped at every shrine we passed to pray for continued good sleep.

After checking the time and noticing that we were running late for our fancy lunch reservation, we jumped into a taxi for the ride across town. This restaurant, Ginza Kyūbey Honten, had specifically sent us a note that being even one minute late would result in cancellation and full charge for the meal, so there was extra urgency on this taxi ride. Of course, this driver combined slow driving, bad lane choices, unnecessary turns, and hitting almost every red light to piss Dave off to no end. But we made it, barely.

Found the small doorway and took an even smaller elevator up. Was led inside a small but very nice room with a sushi counter taking up most of the room and neat sunken seating all around, such that everyone sat on the floor with their legs dangling in little nook that extended below the floor.

Kyūbey was a magnificent sushi experience, with incredible serving after incredible serving from a very knowledgeable and chatty chef who cracked jokes and gave us guidance on how to best enjoy each bite. His hands moved very quickly and meticulously to prepare each serving to perfection, though once or twice his hands slowed down enough for Dave and I to notice that his fingernails were perhaps not in the most hygienic condition. We also took pause when the chef used a rag to gather people’s food portions into neat little piles and used the same rag for each person. A place like this would be shut down immediately for OSHA health violations back home. But it was indeed delicious. I’ve never enjoyed squid, eel, roe, caviar, cuttlefish, clams, sea urchin, mushrooms, pickled vegetables… But here, everything was fresh and balanced and perfect. Sea bream might be my new favorite fish. After 15 or so servings, we were stuffed and happy. Even Dave, the sushi veteran, raved about the experience, cracking the biggest smile I’ve seen on this trip.

Then a taxi over to Shibuya Sky, an observation deck with 360° views of the Tokyo skyline, to make what was my third attempt to make it to the top after the first two attempts had been cancelled by weather. Even today, it was not perfect day, overcast and a bit hazy, but it was now or never. This was certainly no activity for Dave, so I left him at the bottom to wander around Shibuya Crossing while I headed up.

The mid-afternoon skyline was cool to see, but a bit hazy and not much of a thrill after being spoiled by a similar view from the full-length windows of our 44th floor hotel room. In the distance, Mt. Fuji was visible in silhouette. Sunset is really the time to be up here, but tickets for those times were sold out for the duration of my stay in Tokyo.

After reconnecting with Dave, we walked up the hill a bit to the Aoyama Flower Tea House, a cute spot that ChatGPT had recommended. Dave had the Borabora tea and a ladyfinger plate, while I had the Jardin de Collette tea and a flower parfait featuring “rose jerry”. Even Dave appreciated the delightful peace offered by this place.

Then back to the hotel for some downtime before another fancy sushi dinner at Nogizaka Shin. Once again, another nondescript building with ambiguous signage. Just because taxi takes you there is no guarantee you’ll figure out how to get inside. As they led us to our seats, they confirmed with Dave, “You arregic to berr peppers?”

The menu sounded impressive, but we found this experience to be disappointing. Despite the high price for the meal, none of the servings were particularly good, and some lacked flavor altogether. The gimmicks of choosing a new shot glass from a custom-made selection with every pour of sake and being given a souvenir napkin did not make up for the lousy food. Despite all of this, Dave and I found a way to have some sake-fueled laughs. Mostly with the door behind us that we each struggled to open when desperately needing to go to the bathroom.

Early night tonight. Tomorrow, we say goodbye to Tokyo.