I am blaming everything on the constant breathing in and out of air-conditioned air. Everywhere I go there is air-conditioning. In my room. Inside the train. Outside the train. It has destroyed my throat to the point that it is so dry, it hurts when I swallow. Clearly the magical cow didn’t work. Thanks to illness, I haven’t done as much these past few days; not enough for a whole post each day. Instead, I will summarise the last three days here:

Wednesday

Today I am filmed as part of a television show for Fuji Television. The show, called Moshimo Tours, is about Cafe Byron Bay. Presented, I think, by Airi Taira. There are eight western guests in the cafe including me. We chat amongst ourselves as the lighting equipment and tripods are set up. There is basically nowhere to move with all the crew. Cameras three times the size as TV Tokyo’s. A team of about fifteen staff members all wait around outside until it is eventually time to film.

With the crew in place, Airi Taira, four comedians and a Japanese pop idol enter the cafe. Udo Suzuki and Hiroyuki Amano are here, they are the famous comedy due Kyain. Sanpei is here too; a football shirt wearing Japanese comedian who’s catchphrase is saying his own name. I instantly recognise him from episode two of cult classic ‘Adam and Joe Go Tokyo’. I am now on the same television show as him, which is quite exciting. The name of the famous Japanese pop idol escapes me. I am told that the band he is in are the Japanese equivalent to One Direction.

My part in this show is in the background. I am a customer enjoying a drink, talking to my friends, and pretending I haven’t noticed the comedians, and idol, at the bar. Pretending I haven’t noticed the huge lighting rig, the cameras, the guy furiously hand-writing cards which he holds up for the comedians to read from or garner instruction from.

After filming for some fifty minutes, the comedians leave and we are interviewed on camera. Following the interviews we are each given a gift from the producer as a thank you for taking part; a Japanese hand fan. As a thank you for coming, the cafe owner gives the eight of us some money to buy dinner, although she didn’t need to; just being on television with famous Japanese comedians was thank you enough. The show will air on Saturday 5th July at 6:30pm on Fuji TV.

I book another month in Asakusa for the middle of August. It really is beginning to feel like home. Between now and then I am going to travel across Japan like I had originally intended. I get talking to a Japanese guy in a bar, he asks of my plans. I tell him that I am thinking of travelling first to a place called Beppu; famous for its hot springs and various kinds of geothermal healing. It turns out that the Japanese guy in the bar is on vacation in Tokyo, and he actually works at a hostel in Beppu. The same hostel I am considering booking. Beppu is on the other side of Japan, some 496 miles from Tokyo. Yet another strange coincidence.

Thursday

It is another hot clear day. I have been here for three weeks now and it has only rained for three of the days. I go into Cafe Byron Bay to thank the owner for buying me lunch. It is very early and I am the only customer. I ask her to make me some eggs. We talk. She says out of the blue that when I come back in August, she will happily employ me. “Thank you,” I say, tucking into my happy free-range eggs and happy toast. After breakfast I hire a bike again and spot this random guy:

I spend about four hours just cycling around Taito, exploring side streets at not-so-great speeds. Even the policemen here have one speed bicycles. I cycle down the Sumida River and back again, looking for interesting things, mostly seeking odd signs, hilarious typographical errors, or ‘staff wanted’ notices. I see a woman in black face makeup and red eyes. She is holding a doll. I have no idea why.

At the hostel Daisuke and I talk about farmyard animal noises and phone sounds. Different in every language; my favourite is probably the Japanese frog sound. We hang out at the hostel bar for a while. Today is Thursday but the Jazz Club isn’t on tonight, instead there is live music from three staff members; a guitarist, a vocalist, and a violinist. They are playing an evening of music from Studio Ghibli films. For each song the lyrics are read out in English, then the song is performed in Japanese. I stay and watch both sets.

Friday

Luis Suárez is out of his wheelchair and scoring goals. Not worth getting up at 4 a.m. for. After the game I had planned to watch ‘Japan versus Greek’; or so the sign in my hostel says, however, I decide to give it a miss and I’m glad I did. After breakfast I take a few trains and end up in Shinjuku. Here I walk around. I see a typo on a McDonald’s sign and wonder how a company of this size could not employ just one person that can proofread English. I think about writing to McDonald’s but the moment passes.

I take a walk to Kabukicho, the red-light district in Shinjuku. Here I find the famous ‘Robot Restaurant’ that everyone keeps telling me about. The restaurant features a live Japanese cabaret show. The female performers wear neon and not a lot else. They dance around on giant robot tanks, robot samurai, robot dinosaurs, all to the sound of techno music. It costs ¥5000 for a sixty minute show. I suppose they have to charge a lot to make back the ¥10 billion they allegedly spent on the place when it opened last year. ¥10 billion! I decide to give it a miss.

Back in Asakusa, I go out for a tuna sashimi set meal. It is served with the usual suspects, rice, miso soup, wasabi, a selection of pickles, and some love in the style of heart shapes and flowers. It costs ¥1830 with a beer, which just happens to be the exact amount of change I have in my pocket. Yet another strange coincidence.

My night ends at Cafe Byron Bay for last orders where I impress with a couple of card tricks. “What’s your favourite playing card?” I ask a Japanese salaryman. He tells me the seven of clubs; he actually says ‘clover’ instead of ‘clubs’. I reveal the top card and he gives me a puzzled look before bursting into applause. The top card is of course the seven of clubs. The magic trick earns me a beer.

I pop to a late night supermarket called ‘Life’. Here I buy a couple of cans of Suntory whisky highball. As I leave the shop I notice this amazing sign: