The televised bike tour of Sumida has been cancelled due to the bad weather. The hostel manager says it will be rescheduled for the 17th of June. Last night I spent time with friends from last week returning from their travels across Japan. We used magnetic chopsticks to eat ‘old-fashioned style prawns’, drank plenty of beer, and finished the evening off at an all-night karaoke bar.

Today I meet up with a hungover Grant and a hungover Edwina. We walk to Ueno and take the Yamanote Line to Ikebukuro. Here we pass a restaurant named Spazio, before finally arriving at Namco Namja Town; an indoor theme park inside a shopping complex. We see a crane claw machine offering an ice cream as a prize. The machine costs ¥100. The ice cream is the same sold in Seven Eleven for ¥100. We walk through Gyoza Town which boasts 18 different stalls all selling the same thing, and head to an ice cream shop.

For ¥520 we buy six scoops of ice cream chosen from a menu of about fifty strange flavours. We order salt of Okhotsk (seawater flavour), Aomori apple sherbet, double cheese, beef tongue, rose, and my favourite, coal ice cream. It contains ‘real’ coal, and leaves my mouth full of a strange coal dust.

We decide to order six more. Hokkaido Shirataki potato ice cream, shark fin noodle ice cream, Indian curry ice cream, tulip gelato, white shrimp gelato, and eel ice cream. Grant and Edwina don’t like the shark fin noodle ice cream, with its chunks of real shark fin. I pretend that I like it and eat the remainder of the scoop.

Leaving Namco Namja Town we see a Christmas tree, I remind myself that it is currently June. I have shark fin stuck in my teeth and start to feel a little sick. I buy a bottle of Milk Tea to wash away the bad taste.

Changing at Ueno to the Tokyo Metro Ginza Line, we see three guys dressed all in white, and a sign inviting us to take photographs; I have no idea why they are here or what they are doing. Back at Tawaramachi Station I say goodbye to Edwina for the last time, and head back to the hostel with Grant. We arrange to meet at 7 p.m. to head out for some food.

Grant and I find a nearby sushi restaurant online. Inside there are no stools, just space for seven people to stand at a counter. Behind the counter are two sushi chefs. You shout your order, fish is sliced, rice is prepared, and food is placed on a wooden plate. Fresh fish, fresh seaweed, all prepared fresh within ten seconds of ordering. It is my first ever sushi in Japan and my first ever meal in a standing restaurant. The restaurant has an English menu and also offers whale meat, much to my disappointment.

The restaurant is called Magurobito, literally translating to mean ‘Tuna Man’. I eat Sardine, Mackerel, Yellow Tail, Tuna Roll, and Soy Sauce Marinated Tuna. Seven pieces of fresh raw fish on rice, four California rolls, and a pint of beer. The meal costs us ¥1420 each. The best meal I have had in Japan so far.

We pay for an amazing meal and leave the restaurant. We get about two minutes away and Grant notices his receipt only includes the price of his fish. We head back to the restaurant and using Google Translate, we explain that we don’t think we’ve paid for our beer. The chef is very appreciative of our honestly, we pay for our beer, and he thanks us profusely.

Gomez has recommended to me a bar that will be open all night and showing the football. We get there at 8 p.m. and it is closed. Just as we are leaving, a man on a bike shouts for us to stop. He is the bar owner and says he is just about to open. We decide to stay for one beer. Inside, there are two projectors and both will be showing every World Cup game, nothing to worry about. The bar also offers a selection of over 150 different cocktails, nothing to worry about. The owner reveals the bar’s name—A.S.A.B., an acronym for As Soon As Beerable.

On the way back to the hostel there is a full film crew. About twenty people holding microphones, lights, cameras, and action. I take out my camera and am instantly given a ‘no photograph’ hand gesture from a man who appears to be there to tell people not to take photographs. Back at the hostel Grant and I catch the last two songs from tonight’s Jazz trio.

After the Jazz Club is over, the bar stays open. I make some new friends, including a cool guy from Iceland who has toured with Sigur Rós, and a Chilean guy who is thoroughly looking forward to his team beating Australia in the World Cup. The guitarist from the band hangs about, and the Jazz Club becomes an open mic night. My plan to go to bed early and get up at 4 a.m. shattered by whisky and live music. I eventually head to bed, shattered, at an indistinguishable hour.