Height of the Lifting Tread

Posted on 06/08/2014 by Luke

Today, I woke up at 4 a.m. My sleep pattern is completely messed up from spending a week in a fourteen-bedroom dormitory room, constantly being disrupted by shuffling, case repacking, and inconsiderate chicken eaters. Anyway, for the next seven nights, I’ll be enjoying the luxury of a lonely hotel.

With little else to do, I decide to take a look at Japanese television for the first time in months. Honda is launching an aeroplane, the HondaJet, which might as well be a spaceship considering its appearance. Cristiano Ronaldo is advertising some weird gadget that you roll on your body, perhaps to release muscle tension, but its exact purpose remains unclear. A baseball match is rained off. There’s a game show where a member of the girl idol band AKB48 is being chased down a street by one hundred convicts who escaped from prison vans. Hilarious. I switch the TV off.

At 7 a.m. sharp, I head down for my ‘free’ breakfast. I am greeted by warm smiles, fastidious service, and first-class hospitality. My breakfast comprises a Japanese-style omelette, grilled fish of the day (salmon), salad with homemade dressing, cooked seasonal vegetables, homemade tofu, white rice, homemade pickles, and a pot of miso soup. Additionally, I help myself to drinks; opting for orange juice over coffee.

The breakfast is a success, fitting my pescatarian diet as well. I enjoy everything except half of the tofu; it’s never been my preference. Although the rice and miso soup are self-service, allowing me to have more, I opt not to be greedy. Feeling satiated, I return to my room to read, but I find myself dozing off.

I wake up again just after 11 a.m.; I must have been really tired. I dry my shoes with a hairdryer, and ten minutes later, I’m out the hotel door, umbrella in hand. It’s the kind of hotel where you have to hand in your key at reception every time you leave. Works well for me—I hate carrying bulky hotel keys around anyway.

Outside, I take a train to Osaka Station for ¥160. Unfortunately, my Suica card randomly stops working, so I’m forced to buy an Icoca Card, the Osaka equivalent. The Icoca card is light blue and features Ico the Platypus. These cards often contain hidden puns. The ‘Super Urban Intelligent CArd’ is a play on the word ‘suika,’ meaning watermelon. ‘Sui sui’ is an ideophone signifying smooth movement. Much like a penguin swimming effortlessly in water, my card usually allows me to glide smoothly through the ticket gates—except when it randomly stops working at the gates.

At Osaka Station, the Muzak drives me crazy. I keep hearing the same songs over and over. There’s this one Japanese song with a female vocalist and an incredibly catchy melody. I might even say I like it and want to find out its title. However, my issue is that every time it plays, it’s too quiet for me to catch any of the words. As usual, the tune will be stuck in my head for the next few hours, the jaunty music swirling around my head like a relentless earworm.

I escape the torture of the train station Muzak and head straight for the Umeda Sky Building. As I arrive, the rain stops. Just great — now I have to carry around a useless umbrella all day while humming the melody of that song. Spotting a sign for ‘Fun Fun Plaza’ cheers me right up.

At the base of the Umeda Sky Building, there are numerous beautiful, well-cared-for gardens, and fountains. The building comprises two 40-storey skyscrapers connected near the top by two escalators that appear to float in mid-air. The rooftop terrace forms a floating sky garden.

To reach it, I have to take a glass elevator to the 39th floor. Interestingly, the building was designed by Hiroshi Hara, the same architect behind that lovely roof in Kyoto Station. Once I reach the 39th floor, I’m left with no option but to step onto the escalator. As my foot touches the moving walkway, I freeze. I could walk along the escalator and end this ordeal sooner, but I’m unable to move. The very top of the escalator stands at 173 metres above ground.

On the other side of the escalator, a woman greets me at reception, and I’m required to pay ¥700 to access the sky garden. There are various informative signs around. Interestingly, in 2008, Dorling Kindersley of ‘The Times’ newspaper mentioned that the Umeda Sky Building was among the top 20 buildings in the world, ranking it alongside the Parthenon and the Taj Mahal.

The route up to the sky garden showcases the history of tall buildings from the past, present, and, rather confusingly, the future. There’s information about a sky city in space, accompanied by to-scale models and concept artwork. The sky garden itself provides a complete 360-degree panoramic view of Osaka. Unlike other tall buildings or towers, the sky garden is outdoors, offering unobstructed views without reflective glass to spoil the magnificent scenery.

The strong winds up here feel incredibly refreshing. I snap a few photographs and leisurely stroll around, prolonging the inevitable return via the escalator. Eventually, it’s time to leave. As I traverse the slow-moving escalator steps again, surprisingly, it feels less challenging. I attempt to admire the view through the glass panels but struggle to focus. Descending in the see-through elevator, I decide that I’ve had enough of heights for the day.

My next stop is Osaka Castle. I return to Osaka Station, take the loop line, and reach my destination, another ¥160 fare. Perched on stone and surrounded by moats, Osaka Castle sits at a considerable elevation. As usual, I climb numerous stone steps and finally reach the castle’s exterior. Unfortunately, someone has installed a small elevator and escalators that slightly obstruct the view from one side. Fortunately, I approached from the opposite direction and captured an unspoiled photograph. The castle is like a ‘TARDIS,’ appearing to have five stories on the outside but revealing eight stories inside. Very odd.

After visiting the castle, I take the trains back to Shin-Osaka. Upon reaching the hotel, I collect my key and am pleasantly surprised to receive a breakfast token for the next day—amazing, another free breakfast. Passing some time, I decide to take a short nap. At 6 p.m., I head out for dinner. Earlier, I had researched a nearby place that offers vegan food within walking distance. With my bearings in place, I cross the tracks and turn left at the graffiti

I find the restaurant with ease; it’s right next to Nishinakajimaminamigata Station. I take a seat inside, the only customer. The male owner is very welcoming but doesn’t speak English. A woman with a dog walks in, the owner’s wife. I already knew the restaurant was owned by a middle-aged couple. Independently run, organic, and vegan-friendly—although I’m not a vegan. I point vaguely at the menu, “Yasai,” I say, not quite sure what to expect.

The food looks amazing. As I take out my camera, the man who served me, also the chef, laughs and says, “Douzo,” indicating that I’m welcome to take a photograph. This is the first time I’ve been served brown rice, and its taste oddly reminds me of porridge, much better than the ‘dead’ white rice I’m used to. The main part of my dish puzzles me; it has a texture similar to quiche but without the pastry. It could be tofu, but I’d be very surprised; tofu could never taste this good. I pay just ¥880 for what turned out to be a really nice meal.

After eating, I head back to the hotel for another considerably early night.

Let’s Go to Space, Brother!

Posted on 31/07/2014 by Luke

In 1994, Rokuon-ji Temple was designated as a World Cultural Heritage Site. The Golden Pavilion is adorned with gold foil on lacquer, making it a spectacular and breathtaking structure. Gleaming brightly in gold, it peacefully rests on an island in the middle of a lake, encircled by stunning Zen gardens. Even the vending machines here offer disposable cameras, beckoning visitors to capture the Golden Pavilion’s magnificence.

The entry fee is just ¥400, and the ticket, crafted from beautiful paper and adorned with expert calligraphy, adds to the experience. The path meanders through the belfry, past the abbot’s chamber, the pond, the Golden Pavilion, Galaxy Spring, and the Sekka-tei Tea House, all while being enveloped by the mysterious mountains in the background. It’s a wonderful route that takes me about twenty minutes at an unhurried pace. Along the way, small wooden shacks selling souvenirs entice tourists.

After visiting Rokuon-ji Temple, I catch a bus to Kyoto Station. From there, I walk back to Kawaramachi Station, passing by Kyoto Tower on the way, although I opt not to go inside. I’ve had my fill of 360-degree panoramic views this month; it’s enough to last me a lifetime.

As I walk away from Kyoto Tower, I notice some signs. One warns that bicycles parked on Kyoto’s streets will be removed, with a ¥2300 fine upon retrieval. Another indicates that Kyoto is a ‘no smoking’ city, imposing a ¥1000 fine on anyone caught smoking on the streets. A third sign highlights a ¥30,000 fine for littering. I appreciate Kyoto for these regulations, although the frequency of enforcing these fines remains uncertain. At times, it feels as if Japan exists within a vast panopticon.

I see a sign saying, ‘Now, Life is Living You.’ Beyond the sign lies the entrance to yet another temple: Higashi Honganji Temple. I cross over a moat of water filled with lily pads and approach this marvel. The temple also features a cleansing basin adorned with a water-breathing dragon—seems to be a common sight in Kyoto.

The Goeido Hall stands as the second-largest wooden structure in Kyoto and ranks amongst the world’s largest wooden buildings. Its garden is recognised as a site of National Scenic Beauty. The temple follows the Shinran sect of Buddhism. In 1532, a Nichiren Buddhism sect felt that the Shinran sect was gaining too much influence, leading to the burning down of the temple.

As I continue my walk toward Downtown Kyoto, I recall seeing a sign on the train yesterday, advertising an art exhibition at the Museum of Kyoto. Conveniently, the museum is just a ten-minute walk from my hostel. On the way, I pass by a shop called ‘Eggs and Things,’ where a queue of at least thirty women stands outside, enduring the 33°C Kyoto heat, boiling, much like the eggs. I walk up four seemingly random steps, cross a road, and then descend another set of four random steps. Amidst this confusion, a perplexing sign catches my eye.

At the Museum of Kyoto, I attend the opening of the ‘Space Brothers’ exhibition, which will run from today until September 23rd. Men from the Koyama Astronomical Observatory are currently giving a one-off presentation. The presentation is entirely in Japanese, with a man talking and pointing at a projector with a red laser pen. Television crews are also present, with five large cameras and two microphones on sticks, capturing every image and every word.

Space Brothers is a Japanese manga narrating the tale of two brothers aspiring to become astronauts. This exhibition marks the first large-scale showcase of the author Chuya Koyama’s work. It features over two hundred pieces of original illustrations. Alongside the artwork, there’s a collection of replicas of space uniforms and models of rockets, all loaned from the Japan Aerospace Exploration Agency (JAXA).

There’s an audio guide in Japanese narrated by two voice actors from the anime series. Spread across two floors, the exhibition showcases videos of the moon landing, real satellites displayed in glass boxes, model rockets, a dedicated section about Apo the dog, and genuine meteorites. All this is available for the ticket price of ¥1000. Even the museum restaurant offers a space-themed menu. Additionally, Pocari Sweat has a stand here where you can write a message to be sent to the moon during their upcoming interstellar flight next year.

As I make my way through the gift shop, I find myself tempted to purchase something. Normally, I wouldn’t bother, but this is space stuff. At a price of ¥1296, I buy ‘Space Bread’ and ‘Space Ice Cream’—foods that astronauts actually consume during missions to space or while floating about on the International Space Station. ‘In space, no one can hear you ice scream.’

I take my space snacks back to the hostel. The ice cream feels as light as polystyrene but surprisingly tastes delightful. It’s akin to chomping on soft vanilla ice cream-flavoured chalk that turns to powder with each bite. The texture is peculiar, yet it somehow retains the taste of ice cream. On the other hand, the bread tastes rather plain, like ordinary bread. Surprisingly, it still manages to maintain a fresh taste.

I sit on the roof terrace with my book for a while until suddenly, sirens begin wailing all around—loads of them. Three fire engines, a police car, and an ambulance rush to a building on the same block as the hostel. The 20-storey building appears to have a fire on the twentieth floor. Firefighters swiftly ascend to the roof, and one courageous fireman descends from a rope, abseiling onto the balcony below.

Twenty minutes later, the fire is extinguished, the sirens cease, and the vehicles depart. I linger on the roof a little while longer, engrossed in my book, ‘Dance Dance Dance.’ In the distance, the sky echoes with the rumbling of thunder, seemingly serving as an early warning for the impending rain. The precise moment the thunder halts, raindrops begin to fall. Deciding to set aside my book as I’m getting soaked, I grab a hostel umbrella and make my way for some food. Taking refuge in the arcade, I escape from the rain’s downpour. Through the speakers, a saxophone cover of ‘Yesterday’ by the Beatles fills the space.

I opt for Earth food: Kyoto-style Okonomiyaki. Often likened to a pancake or referred to as a Japanese-style pizza, Okonomiyaki is distinct from both. It’s made of batter, cabbage, Okonomiyaki sauce, and shavings of smoked bonito. To complete the dish, small flakes of aonori, a dried seaweed, are sprinkled over the top.

My table features a section in the middle with an iron griddle where the cooked ‘pizza’ is promptly placed. Due to the heat, the fish shavings seem to come alive, moving around on the dish. I squeeze some mayonnaise over the top. While the food tastes good, I’m not particularly fond of the sauce. Nonetheless, the rest of the meal is fantastic. I decide to add a sprinkle of chili powder to give it an extra kick.

Some places serve Okonomiyaki with raw ingredients, allowing you to cook it yourself. It’s a ‘what you like’ dish, where you can request any topping or filling you desire. Not wanting to navigate the ordering process in Japanese, I simply pointed at the word ‘vegetarian’ on the menu. The meal, along with a glass of whisky, totals ¥1010.

I head back to the hostel and, as usual, wrap up the night at the bar.

Grandiose Encounters of the Third Class

Posted on 28/07/2014 by Luke

I went without any Internet connection for a few days, so I couldn’t post anything. Here’s a summary of the last three days:

Friday – Fukuoka

Today, I met a German guy named Klaus. It’s his first day in Japan after spending a month in South Korea. He wants to stay here tomorrow night as well, but there are no available rooms in the hostel. I cancel my reservation for tomorrow night, and he takes my room. I wanted to start traveling early tomorrow anyway, as I have a fourteen-hour train journey to endure.

Klaus and I take a stroll around Hakata Station. I show him the sights, starting with the roof terrace. We then wander through the enormous indoor shopping complex, exploring various random gifts. I spot some excellent souvenir ideas. Later, we head for food—a classic dish of mixed vegetable and prawn tempura on rice, accompanied by a pint of Kirin Beer. Kirin isn’t my first choice for Japanese beer, but I don’t complain.

Afterward, we head over to Tenjin Station because Klaus is really keen on seeing the giant cardboard train. I don’t mind showing him around as I have nothing else planned in Fukuoka. Klaus is quite funny, and his English is good, so I don’t have to speak slowly or anything. We enter the building where I thought the cardboard train was, but we can’t seem to find it. Unfortunately, I deleted the photograph, so I can’t prove to him that it was real. He starts doubting its existence altogether, and I begin to question it myself, still feeling a bit off-kilter from yesterday. We hesitate to ask anyone else about the train because it might sound absurd. “Excuse me, miss, could you point us in the direction of the giant cardboard stream locomotive, please?”

After an hour of searching, we eventually find it in a completely different building from the one I had sworn it was in.

Next, we head to an izakaya by the river. It’s the first time I’ve visited an outdoor izakaya of this style. We choose the most welcoming one. “Please, you are welcome,” the owner says with an honest smile. This place serves skewers of meat and noodle soup. Klaus and I do what Germans and Britons do best: drink.

We meet a couple of Japanese people: two guys, one of whom had visited Berlin last year, so he and Klaus engage in conversation. Two girls, one of whom had spent six months studying English in Leeds, so she and I chat. As the night progresses, Klaus teaches me about South Korea, and I share my knowledge about Japan with him. We drink, joke, and before we know it, the night disappears.

Saturday – Okayama

I board my third and final train for the day at Shimionoseki Station, taking the JR Sanyo Line. The train is old, with uncomfortable seats, no toilet, and no vending machine. I wish I had more than one bottle of water. The train announcements are exclusively in Japanese. Am I even on the right train? How would I even know?

This ‘local’ train makes an astonishing 83 stops, taking a total of eight hours. Finally, at 9 p.m., I arrive in Okayama. I decided to break up my travel to Kyoto with a nice stopover in a pleasant-looking business hotel. I enjoy staying in a hotel once a month; it offers a refreshing change from the noise of a dormitory room. By using my Seishun 18 ticket, I save myself the ¥16,060 that the bullet train would have cost me. In exchange, I sacrifice 569 minutes of my life.

As I step off the train, the speakers are bellowing out the tune, ‘I’ve Been Working on the Railroad’. In fact, they play the tune every time a train pulls up here. You might go insane if you were a member of the station staff. Leaving the station, I realise just how exhausted I am from doing absolutely nothing but sitting on trains. It wears me out.

There is a really lovely fountain just outside the entrance. I believe it’s shaped to look like a dandelion.

One thing I notice immediately about Okayama is the maps—they are everywhere, massive, and in English. My hotel is on the same road as the station, about halfway between here and Okayama Castle. I grab a well-deserved can of Suntory whisky highball for the walk.

The main road through Okayama is wide, with trams drifting through the middle of the lanes. Neatly pollarded trees, lit up by lamps, line both sides of the pavement, adding to the city’s charm. Finding my hotel, I notice it’s slightly more upmarket than I’m used to. The room is of average size, with a laid-out yukata on the bed and all the usual hotel amenities. Unfortunately, my view isn’t of the castle but of the train station. Oddly, the hotel exists in a time before the World Wide Web and does not offer Internet access.

After settling into the hotel, I decide to take a walk. I head into the park, passing a group of people exercising to music from a stereo in the street. The park is pitch black, but I can vaguely make out a lake in the middle. In the distance, I see the castle, illuminated by bright green lights.

Similar to the park, the castle exterior is pitch black, earning it the nickname ‘Crow Castle’. After visiting the castle, I step out of the park and into the light. Following the neon signs, I navigate interlocking side streets filled with restaurants. People stand outside, attempting to usher customers into their establishments. As I walk around with an empty can of highball, a trick I discovered, I notice that nobody wants someone with an open can of drink in their restaurant. Consequently, I am almost completely ignored by the touts.

I decide to dine at a small family-run restaurant. Surprisingly, they have Basashi (raw horse meat) curry on the menu, alongside natto curry. Opting for a fish curry, I’m asked by the owner, ‘Medium heat, medium curry, okay?’ I request it to be hot. He brings out the familiar chart with the five chili symbols. His chart looks like this:

One: For children.
Two: Mild curry.
Three: Extremely hot!
Four: Daredevil!
Five:

Five is left blank, presumably because no one orders a five. I ask for a three. ‘Three!!!’ he exclaims. His response makes me start laughing. When my curry arrives, the smell is enticing, and the heat level is just right. It costs ¥1019, including a small can of Kirin Beer. It’s a good meal, albeit with a substandard beer.

Sunday – Kyoto

After traveling for four hours on trains, I finally arrive in Kyoto. I switch to the subway line headed to Kawaramachi Station, and surprisingly, the subway train happens to be the nicest I’ve ridden all week. Remembering my station name won’t be an issue either. During my month in Tokyo, my local station was Tawaramachi Station—here, just a letter’s difference. Leaving the station, I walk directly into a massive shopping arcade that sprawls out in every direction.

I pass by a huge market where everything is produced and sourced locally. There are numerous vegan and organic restaurants here as well—my kind of place. Additionally, within the arcade, there are random temples dotted about. Seishinin Temple is sandwiched between a small shop selling calligraphy on wooden blocks and a shop selling human caricatures.

It is only 2 p.m. and I have one hour before I can officially check-in. I find the hostel and fill out all the necessary paperwork and pay. The hostel offers to look after my bags for an hour. As I hand over my one bag, the staff member gives me a bewildered look. “That’s it?!” He asks me with surprise in his voice.
“Yep, that’s it,” I tell him.
“Not very heavy,” he says, struggling to grasp the concept of my luggage.
“I like to travel light,” I offer as an explanation. His expression retains a sense of disbelief.

I have an hour to kill, so I decide to find some lunch. I head to a small restaurant across the road that offers natural organic food. Like most restaurants here, it has an English menu, probably due to the sheer volume of tourists. They offer free wireless Internet, and Björk’s music is coming out of the speakers. I order a salmon, mushroom, and cheese omelette over rice, served with a big salad, along with a green tea latte. Although the food doesn’t look too pretty, it tastes and smells amazing. The meal costs ¥1944. No complaints here—good food, good music, free Internet.

Kyoto was formerly the imperial capital of Japan for over a thousand years. Now, it serves as the capital of Kyoto Prefecture. It’s often referred to as the ‘City of Ten Thousand Shrines.’ I’m not certain if it actually has ten thousand shrines, but it wouldn’t surprise me one bit if it did. I’ve counted eleven already today, and they were all within the indoor shopping arcade.

I return to the hostel to retrieve my room key. The hostel is modern, featuring five floors and a roof terrace. I decide to explore the public areas. The lounge is adorned with small wooden boxes housing growing plants, adding a touch of nature. A huge glass bay window floods the dining area with natural light. The outdoor roof terrace is neatly arranged, complete with beer and cup noodle vending machines. It seems someone in the hostel has organised a weekly late-night running group, with a clear emphasis on ‘going for a beer afterwards.’ I have a feeling I’m going to enjoy my one-week stay here.

The hostel also features a library, and unlike Fukuoka and Beppu, it has a lift. While I’m writing up my weekend, a Japanese guy who works here comes over and introduces himself. He seems quite a character and turns out to be one of the barmen at the hostel’s bar, which is located in the basement and stays open until midnight every evening. They also offer ¥400 beer on tap. Tonight, the hostel is hosting a monthly party, which is fantastic—another stroke of lucky timing. At the party, I discover that the other barman is my friend Shonosuke. I had no idea he was here. Brilliant!

In a City of the Future it is Difficult to Concentrate

Posted on 05/06/2014 by Luke

Breakfast from a Seven Eleven. The quality and selection of food in Japanese convenience stores is amazing. The Cheese Mushi Cake was actually quite pleasant; soft with a very light texture, softer than a sponge cake with a subtle hint of cheese. I wash it down with a blueberry yogurt drink. It is a wonderful time.

Today is laundry day; I grab some of the ‘free’ detergent from the reception and head up to the 4th floor of the hostel. The laundry room here is amazing. It costs me ¥200 to wash my clothes. Also in the laundry room random plugs litter the floor, there is a stone water fountain, and a bathtub full of colourful plastic balls.

I see Daisuke here, he is on his break and just chilling out in the laundry area. I ask him to take my photograph. Afterwards, he starts to pick up some of the balls and begins to throw them at me. We have a ‘fight’ for a short while before tidying up our multicoloured mess.

After laundry, I take a six minute train ride to Akihabara Electric Town. I go into a few of the shops looking specifically for models of Final Fantasy characters for a friend back home. In one shop I see Magic the Gathering cards next to the pornography. In another shop the lift is playing House of Cards by Radiohead. Elsewhere in Akihabara, the girl idol band AKB48 are doing a meet and greet, the queue of adult males is insane.

Inside the Club Sega arcade, elderly individuals sit alone whilst playing computer games, while men in suits attempt to win stuffed Pikachu’s from crane claw machines. Outside, a woman dressed in a maid costume hands out flyers for a maid cafe.

Akihabara is a little too much and the humidity is high today. I begin to feel a little dizzy so I head back to Asakusa. On my way back I see a sign saying, ‘In the stations, please refrain from putting a thing on the floor.’ At the hostel it’s 5 p.m. and Daisuke has just finished his shift. I join him in the lounge for a beer and he once again emphasises that I should go to the Robot Restaurant. Soon, I tell him.

I am invited out for a trip to Shibuya for some sightseeing and food. A group of six of us is randomly formed, including Conor, Grant, and Edwina from previous evenings; and we head out to Shibuya. This time I get the chance to see if people crossing the road looks any better during a busy evening surrounded by neon lights. I admit, it is a little better than the day time, but it is still just people crossing a road.

There are some quality English signs here in Shibuya. The highlights for me are a restaurant called the Raj Mahal, a dress shop called 1000% Wedding, and a drinking establishment called Gaspanic.

We search a while in Shibuya until we find a restaurant that we all agree on. We buy our meal tickets from the vending machine outside; I order the ‘no pork’ vegetarian ramen and a beer for ¥1380. After ordering we go inside, sit down and hand over our tickets. Eventually our food comes out. It looks pretty good and tastes pretty good. My ramen contains cabbage, spring onions, beansprouts, and noodles in an unidentifiable broth.

After lunch, the group splits. Conor and the others head off to check out a love hotel. Edwina, Grant and I head back to the hostel. On the train there is a sign advertising Suntory Strong Zero. The sign, for no apparent reason says, ‘Suntory Strong Zero 9% Wash You!’ On the way back to the hostel we stop off at the five-storey convenience store. At the store I buy a 135ml can of Asahi for ¥95. It is the smallest can of beer I have ever seen. I also buy a bottle of my favourite Japanese whisky.

At the hostel we do some drinking. Eventually the others return and we regroup for a few games of cards and some bad magic tricks. The night ends at around 2 a.m. We make plans for the following morning then go our separate ways to sleep.

A Tale of Two Squids

Posted on 31/05/2014 by Luke

I wake up to the birds cheeping outside and the sun blazing through the window. An early start today in the far too hotter than I’m used to 30°C Tokyo sunshine finds me out and about for 9 a.m. I head across to the bar I had been the previous evening, which luckily for me, doubles up as a vegan and vegetarian restaurant in the day time; and only a 45 second walk from my hostel too. After a breakfast of beans, egg, and toast, washed down with a damn fine cup of coffee, it’s time for a stroll.

I take a five-minute walk to Senso-ji, a Buddhist Temple in Asakusa and the oldest temple in Tokyo. The entrance to the temple is marked by a giant red and white lantern, and probably the largest lantern I have seen in my life. This section is known as Kaminarimon, or the Thunder Gate. Standing either side of the gate are two large statues, the one on the left, I am told, is Fujin, the god of wind; and to the right, Raijin, the god of thunder.

Continuing towards the temple, there’s a line of over 80 stalls offering fans, umbrellas, souvenirs, and an array of food items (bean paste buns and rice crackers seem to be popular today), along with clothing, handbags, and even a stall claiming to sell tortoise shell and coral. Known as Nakamise-Dori, this stretch forms a beautiful lantern-lit pathway of stalls leading to the temple.

In the temple courtyard stands Goju-no-To, a five-story pagoda that stands at 53 metres tall, making it the second-highest pagoda in all of Japan. Prior to the temple entrance, there’s a massive cauldron emitting thick incense smoke. This cauldron marks the threshold before the entrance to the Hondo, or Main Hall. Inside the Main Hall, a striking golden statue of Kannon, the goddess of mercy, awaits. Legend claims the statue was retrieved from a lake in the year 628 AD by two fishermen.

After some sightseeing around the temple, I head to a nearby shaded indoor market. After a short while, I notice a woman who, for no apparent reason, is strolling through the market balancing a bottle of green tea on her head. As she passes by, I stop and turn around to confirm what I had just witnessed – indeed, a woman balancing a bottle of green tea on her head. In the process, I almost get knocked over by a passing cyclist.

Upon returning to the hostel, I start feeling somewhat tired: a touch of jet lag, extended periods of wakefulness, and my newfound, albeit very healthy diet of Suntory Black Boss Coffee being the obvious causes. I opt to take a nap.

I awaken. It’s 8 p.m., and outside, the darkness of the sky has been replaced by the brilliance of vibrant neon lights. I realise that Japan takes on a strikingly different appearance in the evening. I begin my walk back toward Senso-ji, passing by pachinko parlours, game arcades, and brightly lit restaurants that seemed non-existent earlier today. The streets are now bustling with people seated at tables, dining. Shutters down, shutters up—there isn’t a clothing shop in sight; everything has been transformed into restaurants.

I return to Senso-ji to witness the Pagoda and Temple illuminated at night—an impressive sight. Strolling back through Nakamise-Dori, almost all of the 80 stalls are now closed with their shutters down. Only a single food stall remains open; it’s time to find something to eat.

I opt for a tempura restaurant that proudly boasts an English menu. According to the menu, their prawns are exceptionally tasty due to being raised using extensive aquaculture—an environmentally friendly method. They exclusively use 100 percent vegetable oil with no cholesterol. Ordering a tempura set with noodles and a pint of Kirin Beer, I indulge in tempura sweet potato, lotus root, squid, and prawn, all served on a bed of rice. While the squid tempura is remarkable, the standout, confirming the menu’s claim, happens to be the most delectable prawn I’ve ever tasted.

The meal, including the beer, costs me ¥1060—an incredibly reasonable price indeed.

Deciding to conclude the night back at the hostel, my appetite is thoroughly satisfied. I purchase a few affordable cans of Asahi from the vending machines and head to my room, where I’m greeted by a few fellow roommates. A lady from Taiwan offers me some squid on a stick. ‘Try it,’ she says with a grin, ‘it’s nice and a little bit spicy too!’ For some reason, I agree to give it a try.

Two minutes later, I’m still at the tap, trying to wash away the taste of what must have been the most disgusting food I have ever tasted. The texture was chewy, the taste was off, the regret was apparent.

My second day in Japan oddly mirrored by both morning and evening visits to Senso-ji Temple: walking the same streets once bathed in the brightness of a hot sunny day and then again in the neon-lit darkness of the night; and some food to remember, followed by food to forget.

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