Tag Archives: Shibuya Crossing

In a City of the Future it is Difficult to Concentrate

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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.

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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.

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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 Pikachus from crane claw machines. Elsewhere, a woman dressed in a maid costume hands out flyers for a maid cafe.

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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 in neon lights. I admit, it is a little better than the day time, but it is still just people crossing a road.

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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 ticket. 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.

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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.

Coincidences, Strangers, and Stranger Coincidences

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I wake myself up screaming in pain. I have cramp in my left leg and I’ve just woken everyone up. Not the best start to the day. I have a shower, get dressed, then stumble to the lift. Researching cramp, Yahoo Answers tells me that I need to drink more red wine, add more salt to my diet, and eat less bananas.

At the hostel I meet a freelance journalist from Canada. Her name is Aaliya. It is her first day in Japan, so I offer to give her the tour of the area. We walk to Senso-ji where we both receive an o-mikuji fortune. Aaliya gets The Good Fortune; it says that the ‘patient will not get well soon, but will escape death.’ I hate to think what the bad fortune is like. I receive The Best Fortune.

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After a stroll around Asakusa, we take the Tokyo Metro Ginza Line to Shibuya. A short walk from the station and we arrive at the famous Shibuya Crossing. There are three massive television screens mounted on buildings, they only show advertisements. We decide to go into the Starbucks Coffee shop for a better view of the crossing. I later find out that this is the busiest Starbucks Coffee shop in the world.

Overall, I find Shibuya Crossing to be quite underwhelming. It is literally people crossing a road. How this became a famous tourist attraction, I have no idea. After we take photographs of people crossing a road, we walk around Shibuya for a while. We notice a neon sign saying ‘CAT’ and decide to check it out. It is, of course, a cat cafe; a place where you have a cup of tea surrounded by cats. Unfortunately, they only allow two people in at once for thirty minutes at a time; there are two people already waiting, so we decide to leave.

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After a walk around Shibuya, we change to the Yamanote Line and head to Akihabara. Here we get some food. Tempura again today, two prawns, squid, sand borer, and scallop served on rice with seaweed. ¥1280 with a pint of beer. After a look around a few of the shops in Akihabara, we head back on the train and return to the hostel.

Radiohead are playing on the speakers in the hostel lounge. There is also a film crew here interviewing people for Japanese channel TV Tokyo. I hang out in the lounge with a couple of the hostel staff who have just finished their shift for the day. One of the staff members recommends that I check out the Robot Restaurant in Shinjuku, another recommends I eat at an Alcatraz themed restaurant. I note both down as options for another day.

I hang out for a while longer with one of the guys that works here; he is genuinely hilarious and I can see myself becoming good friends with him. We joke about forming a Japanese manzai act together; a style of traditional comedy here in Japan involving two performers. He says that if I want to I can work at the hostel for three hours a day, cleaning, in exchange for a free room. A lot of backpackers do this, apparently.

After a light snack of salmon teriyaki, I head out to an izakaya pub with Aaliya and two of her friends from the hostel, James and Matt. Here we drink for a while, sitting outside and enjoying the warm evening and a light breeze. Eventually the three of them head back to the hostel; they have to be up at 3 a.m. to catch a taxi to the Tsukiji fish market. I decline the invitation to join them; I will be not be getting up that early.

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I wander alone around Asakusa at night, taking my time, taking photographs and taking in the neon lights. When I get back to the hostel, I grab a beer in the lounge. I hear a man talking about Shane Carruth, director of Primer and Upstream Color. I am surprised to hear his name. I join the conversation and it transpires that we have both read Shane Carruth’s script for his abandoned project, A Topiary.

The man says that another director he really likes is Zal Batmanglij, I am also a huge fan. I find it very odd. The conversation naturally turns to Brit Marling and Mike Cahill, and the coincidences continue. This is probably only interesting to me, but it seems that all of my favourite people, artists, authors, and musicians keep being mentioned. I didn’t say so in my blog a few nights ago, but the Irish guy staying in my hostel room, his favourite author was the same as mine, Iain Banks. He was also reading a different book by the same author as me, Haruki Murakami. I find it all very strange.

I stay in the hostel lounge and spend the rest of the night drinking with some random people. Two of which are from England. There is talk of a group karaoke trip tomorrow, which I really hope goes ahead. The rest of the night becomes a bit of a blur, and I retire to my room just before 3 a.m. Meanwhile, the others wake up to visit the fish market.