Befall Upon The Watchtower

Posted on 14/02/2015 by Luke

For whatever reason, someone has suggested to me that I check out the area where the Arakawa River and the Sumida River flow into one. As I head out into what feels like a spring afternoon, I realise that my destination today might offer little excitement to anyone, including myself. Somehow, I feel drawn in the direction of Arakawa, the shackles of free will severed from my legs. Part of me feels like there is a demon possessing my very soul, controlling my destiny as I cycle at rapid speeds in the direction of Arakawa.

I see the remnants of a temple or shrine, but it looks as though perhaps it is trapped within the confines of an industrial site. Not letting that stop me for one moment, I park my bicycle and wander in. Seconds later, I am cornered by a security guard. He shouts angrily in Japanese as he waves his hand in the direction of the street. A strong urge to not give up consumes me, and I quickly find myself on the other side of the complex.

It is a strange sight. I am standing along the Sumida River, and there is nothing but tall yellow grass stretching off in every direction. No cars pass along the road in front of the shrine. No people are walking. It is silent, yet only ten minutes away are the tall residential buildings that make up my neighbourhood. Looming over the Shinto shrine are three huge green balls, presumably part of a sewerage station. Perhaps the god of water treatment resides here.

I carry on my journey, not wanting to disturb the sewer gods, and eventually find a map. Sure enough, the place I had just visited is marked as ‘Sewer Station Shirahige Nishi Pump Place.’ However, there is no mention of any temple or shrine on the map. There is, however, one other interesting point of interest labelled as ‘Ballpark for boy Ground of using combinedly.’ I excuse the terrible English and carry on along the river.

Ten minutes later, my fanciful difficulty fades away, offering me some karmic resolve.

A watchtower. The best thing that has happened to me all week. It somehow feels like I am stumbling through an episode of the television drama ‘Lost’. For no apparent reason, there is a massive wooden watchtower sitting guard at the entrance to one of the bridges that traverses the Sumida River. What is it doing here? Who built it? Is this real? My mind floods with questions and possibilities, as if somehow collecting fragmented pieces of information and forming them into ideas in my head.

I park my bicycle, and ignoring the sign that tells me to stay away, I enter the wooden doorway. My body filled with an emotion that is yet to be given a name. As I climb the watchtower, I begin to wonder if all of this is just some giant metaphor for something else, something that can’t be explained with words. Each step toward the top tests me, as if life is testing me at this very moment. Eventually, as I near the top, the cracks in the surface become wider, making way for sunbeams.

The view from the top is of nothing of note. Tokyo Skytree hangs in the distance, slightly masked by concrete surroundings. In the direction I came from, I can see the water treatment plant and the barren riverbed. I stand at the top of the tower in silence for a while, watching the blue hue of the river for a time, before the sound of footsteps echo from below. A man appears. He looks devious, something very odd about him; like he means to cause trouble. He stands atop the watchtower with me, blissfully staring out into a void. The man doesn’t speak to me, and something about him makes me incredibly uneasy. I decide that I can’t stand here any longer, so I head back down the steps to my bicycle below.

I cross the river as fast as I can, somewhat unnerved. On the other side of the river, I take a right, following its path back toward what looks like civilisation. After twenty minutes of cycling, I realise I am slightly at a loss. I don’t really know where I am, and I’m not sure if the river I crossed was the Arakawa River or the Sumida River. Perhaps I have already cycled beyond the confluence.

I try to check the map on my camera, but nothing appears to work. I stop for a moment, take a deep breath, and take in my surroundings. Desolate. Empty. Nothing. Everything here looks abandoned, and it begins to reflect on me. Right now, even I feel completely abandoned; which is the strangest feeling I have suffered in a while. As I stand here, lost in the middle of something that might or might not be nothingness, a certain fear destroys my usual calm demeanour, and I begin to panic.

Everything will be fine, though. As if saved, I can just make out the silhouette of Tokyo Skytree on the horizon; so I point my bicycle in the direction of the structure. After what seems like an hour of following the river, I reach a bridge and am finally free to cross. This bridge takes me over the Arakawa River, so it appears that I never reached my destination, never found what I sought out to find. Regardless, I am finally back within familiar territory, heading back toward life. I stop to photograph a sign that probably has no relevance here, but perhaps it does. The sign appears to have been written by Yoda from Star Wars.

As the day continues to distract me, I inadvertently end up in Akihabara. Tired from three or four hours of intemperate exploration, I decide to leave my bicycle at the train station. Inside, I stand at the platform, waiting for the train to take me back to Minowa. It is here that I see yet another strange vending machine.

The machine offers four shelves of items, two of which are toys for children: two sets from the Nature in Japan series. Small models of various different animals native to the country. It is what is contained within the other two shelves that I find strange. At a bargain price of ¥200 per purchase, I can buy office ladies that sit on the edge of my coffee cup; legs open, underwear exposed.

Akihabara Station famously has signs at each escalator, warning women to watch out for ‘upskirting.’ Apparently, it is a law in Japan that all cameras must make a sound when a photograph is taken. With Akihabara being the home of electronics and comic books, lonely men have often been known to pry on women as they ride the escalator, sneakily taking photographs from below.

This vending machine perhaps tries to solve that problem. These coffee cup women are clearly exposing their undergarments, with no shame. The only shame is possibly when your co-workers see you with a decorated coffee cup featuring this type of imagery. ‘Make your office fun!’ ‘Happiness in your cup!’ are just some of the explanations on offer, scrawled in Japanese across the machine.

There are certain times in my life when my mind is simply not capable of understanding something, and this is certainly one of them.

Roasting the Masu-Bean

Posted on 09/02/2015 by Luke

Another day, another post about the endless goings-on in the Asakusa area of Tokyo. I wander aimlessly toward Senso-ji Temple, walking with my head in the clouds as I follow the distant bellow of a beating drum. It somehow slipped my mind that today was the official festival of Setsubun, but here I am now, standing in the cold amongst the eager crowd.

Thousands of people wait in front of a wooden stage constructed specifically for the event. Poor carpentry makes the stage look out of place, perhaps even unfinished. I hadn’t planned on attending today, but with nothing else to do on this gloomy afternoon, and finding myself standing here, I decide it might be best to stick around and enjoy the spirit of this age-old festival.

The television people are here, filming every second of the action. But sadly for me, and unfortunately for the television crew, the action is a little muted. First, an announcer takes to the stage and begins reading out names. Some get no reaction at all; other names cause the crowd to cheer with excitement. One name gets a huge reaction, but I was barely listening to a word the announcer was saying because I allowed myself to become distracted by a pigeon.

Eventually, the twelve celebrities waltz onto the stage. They each carry a large wooden masu box, usually reserved for large quantities of sake. At the announcer’s count, they all start throwing pouches of roasted beans into the crowd. Following the bean-throwing, each of the twelve ‘celebrities’ is given a chance to speak with the microphone, seemingly using the opportunity for self-promotion before thanking the crowds for attending.

The last person to speak on the badly erected wooden stage is Animal Hamaguchi, a famous Japanese wrestler who coached his own daughter, Kyoko. She went on to win two Olympic medals in wrestling. Kyoko was born in this area too, so it is no surprise that she was chosen to take part in the event.

After Animal has finished speaking, a man sings ‘When You’re Smiling’ by Louis Armstrong; he sings in very clear English. Some of the other guests join in too. Animal Hamaguchi decides to start shouting in Japanese and laughs deeply, much to the enjoyment of the people around me. Pigeons fly away in fear as his laughter echoes around the grounds of the temple. “Mwahahaha!”

The festival ends, and the crowds disperse. I decide to do a little exploring in the area close to my house. I walk to a small park and am surprised to see that there is another festival taking place, albeit a little stranger than one that encourages the throwing of roasted plant seeds.

The festival offers no explanation behind its meaning. The only clue here is an array of masked men and women. They march around the park, passing the swings and the slide before heading off toward the red-light district. I am completely oblivious as to what this festival is here to represent; my confusion further added to by all kinds of different Japanese costumes, including dragons, ghosts, foxes, demons, and flute-playing elephants.

After the festival, I decide to explore a little further. I stumble upon Tozenji Temple, said to house one of the six jizos of Tokyo. A jizo is a Buddhist saint in search of truth and enlightenment; they are also guardians of children. It appears that the statue of this saint has been stolen or is simply missing. The only thing of interest here is another large statue of Buddha.

After walking in almost a full circle, I arrive back in Asakusa and head over to the Sumida River. I stare into the glistening waters for far too long, looking directly at the reflection of Tokyo Skytree. The way the river shakes and shimmers distorts the image of the tower, and it does begin to take the form of a tree. After a while, I forget where I am, lost to the flow of time. It is only when my hands begin to feel frozen that I snap out of the trancelike state that I have allowed my mind to enter.

My head returns to the clouds, and I wander around like a lost child, looking for excitement. There isn’t even a jizo around to guide me. Eventually, I find a clothing store that displays a wonderful sign. I believe the sign is trying to tell people not to consume food or drink inside their establishment.

Unfortunately for the shop, a translation blunder instead suggests that lactation is forbidden, much to my amazement.

Round, Round, Get Around, I Get Around

Posted on 26/10/2014 by Luke

This weekend, a local event known as ‘A-Round,’ short for Asakusa Around, is taking place. Sixty-nine different stalls, cafes, and galleries have signed up for the event. I am fortunate enough to have been invited along for a small walking tour, hosted by my friend, local resident, and Japan expert, Gomez. We meet up at noon, and a group of five, including me, sets off on foot to explore some of the rich Asakusa history and to get a feel for some old Japanese culture.

We wander the backstreets tucked away behind Senso-ji Temple, an area slightly out of the way and not commonly visited by tourists. Gomez takes us to his favourite karaoke bar, saying, “This bar stays open until 7 a.m. I often visit here.” We walk through an area that used to be heavily populated by geisha many years ago and is now home to the geisha headquarters. Gomez tells us, “If you hang around this area at night, you might even see a real geisha!”

Our first real stop of the tour is a small leather shop. Outside, snake skins, sea lion furs, crocodile leather, and boxes of leather scraps are hanging for sale at very low costs. Like the other participating stores, this shop has a blue banner outside with the words ‘A-Round.’ All stores taking part display this sign and are each having an open day of sorts—a nice way to increase trade and boost tourism.

Inside, we are welcomed humbly, allowed to take photographs, and even given the opportunity to try a few things hands-on. Hanging from the ceiling of the shop is a huge black leather crocodile skin. The shopkeeper tells us that it’s the largest single piece of leather in Japan, measuring seven metres long. The store even breeds their own crocodiles specifically for leather production.

The next stop is a cafe called ‘Ameshin.’ The shop has been open for a little over a year and is run by artist and craftsman Shinri Tezuka. The cafe is all about candy, with candy-flavoured drinks served, and the spacious room nicely decorated with candy shaped like animals.

It turns out that the owner makes these sweet fish himself and has recently gained popularity by showcasing his craftsmanship at an aquarium in Nihonbashi. Today, just for us, he will make a fish from scratch.

He starts by rolling a ball of soft hot candy in the palms of his hands, forming it into a rough outline of a kingyo (goldfish). Next, using only his hands and a pair of scissors, Tezuka trims the candy to shape the fin. As he models the sweet, his strong concentration makes him look like he’s in a trancelike state.

This traditional Japanese process is done at some speed. After just a few minutes, the outer part of the candy has started to harden, and soon it will be impossible to shape it any further. Tezuka finishes the kingyo by painting it with a natural pigment before adding eyes to finish. “It is a beautiful kingyo made from candy. It shines as though it is alive,” he remarks.

Next, we head down a street that once was a small stream, now completely dried up. The stream used to flow from the Sumida River, running along the area behind Senso-ji Temple and beyond, toward the Yoshiwara red-light district. Gomez tells us, “Many sailors would tell their wives that they were going by boat to the temple to pray; instead, they would continue down this stream and into Yoshiwara.”

We head to the studio of the famous Japanese bag maker Kichizo Yoshida. Founded in 1935, the company is known for big brand names like ‘Porter.’ I learn that Yoshida died twenty years ago, yet he continued to make bags right up until the day he died. Today, his legacy lives on, and the birthplace of his bags has been transformed into a modern-looking gallery, juxtaposed by the original tools and machinery he used when he first started out. We meet his sister, who is taking care of business. She lets us take some photographs and gives us a chance to do some stitching. “Heart and soul into every stitch,” she says.

Next, Gomez wants to show us two very different places. The first one is a shrine full of cats.

Most shrines in Japan represent something, perhaps a different god or some superstition. This one, however, represents the harmony of marriage through the medium of felines. Maneki Neko (fortune cats) are famous across the world, but they originated right here in Taito Ward, at Imado Shrine.

The shrine is family-run, and many generations ago, they made a living from crafting fox statues from the rich clay of the Sumida River. The family also had a pet cat. One day, seeking a change from the usual foxes, they decided to make clay cats modelled in the shape of their pet. These cats are what are known today as fortune cats and are seen outside many restaurants and some small businesses, often signifying a successful future.

The cat with the black spot, I am told, is male. Nowadays, people visit this shrine to hope for prosperity in marriage. Couples visit before they are wed, buy a circular piece of wood with two fortune cats engraved on one side, write a message on the back, and attach it to a tree.

After getting married, the couples return and attach a second wooden plate to the original to seal the marriage and receive good fortune. There are so many trees and so many wooden messages hanging here that I can only assume every man and woman in Tokyo has visited this shrine and is subsequently now married.

After the shrine, we visit Matsuchiyama Shoten, a fourteen-hundred-year-old Buddhist temple that sits at the top of a large hill. The temple is so high up that it even boasts its own cable car to help people reach the top. The hill famously appeared overnight, as if by magic. Then, a huge golden dragon appeared from heaven and landed on the hill. This event is somehow connected to a certain root vegetable: the radish.

Usually, at a temple, a small donation of coins is gratefully accepted. However, here they only accept donations of radishes. The people inside the temple are worshiping radishes. You can even buy radishes at a small stall near the entrance for ¥500 each, just in case you left yours in the supermarket. I discover that the radish is a symbol of health, family harmony, and heavenly golden dragons.

Next, we wander back into Asakusa to Hatch, a small coffee shop with four floors of empty gallery space above and a lovely rooftop terrace. The gallery was supposed to be filled with paintings, but the owner got drunk and forgot to prepare. Instead of buying a coffee and admiring the artwork, we leave slightly disappointed.

Our final stop of the tour is by the Sumida River, in a large exhibition space close to the Azuma Bridge. Inside, there are many small stands, each selling different leather products. The shop that interests me the most sells leather artwork. The designer tells us that one piece of work takes three months to complete. All hand-etched using a soldering iron, he sits, burning detail into leather.

The piece above depicts the Sanja Matsuri, an annual festival held in Asakusa. His art comes with a pricey ¥300,000 tag. He’ll be waiting until the cows come home to get that kind of money …

The artist tells us he wants to spread the joy of Japan to the rest of the world. He is selling some lovely leather iPhone cases for ¥12,000; the detail is delightful, and they would make an excellent souvenir. He takes a photograph of our group, clearly humbled that we took the time to talk to him. After that, the tour concludes, and we each go our separate ways.

On my way home, I head through the area that we had walked through earlier today. A geisha in full makeup darts past me; her wooden shoes clanking on the hard pavement. I am stunned. This is actually the first time I have ever seen a practicing geisha freely wandering around. Other times I have seen them, they have been part of an event or exhibition. It appears that Gomez was right about this area.

After a few short minutes, I hear the sound of more wooden shoes on concrete and find that a second geisha is walking down the street. She moves elegantly but very fast, and although I take quite a few photographs, for some reason, they all turn out looking like a blur. Seconds after spotting her, she has floated away like an incredible ghost.

Cycling into Locals

Posted on 18/06/2014 by Luke

‘Cycling into Locals’ is the name of today’s bicycle tour. The name amuses me. I head just outside the hostel to a bicycle rental shop. It costs me ¥300 to rent a bike for eight hours, dirt cheap. The minimum fare for a train is ¥170, even if I take just one stop, the lovely purple bicycle I’ve chosen today costs me less than a return train ticket. I will certainly be taking advantage of this service again in future.

There are seven hostel guests taking part in the tour, a TV crew of four people, and staff members Gomez and Keina from the hostel. We meet up at 10 a.m. for a briefing, before finally departing some ten minutes later. The thirteen of us take to our bicycles, and we begin to head in the direction of the Sumida River. Here we see Tokyo Skytree from a position where you can see a second Skytree in the reflection of the Asahi building. Apparently people come to this spot all the time to take this famous shot.

Next we cycle over the river to Ushijima Shrine. Here we do a cleansing ritual and a prayer ritual before being invited into the main hall by the priest. He tells us about the history of the shrine and then hits a massive drum a few times. Outside the shrine there is a statue of a cow. The cow statue is said to have magical healing properties. I touch my throat, then I touch the cow’s throat. My sore throat will now heal quicker thanks to the magic statue. Cowabunga!

We stop off at a Japanese tea house for a traditional snack. For ¥300 we are served sweet bean paste wrapped in a salt-pickled cherry blossom leaf, and a cup of green tea. The leaves have been picked from the banks of the Sumida River. After being filmed eating some leaves, it is time to leave.

Hatonomachi Dori Shotengai is a historical street featuring very local shopping and various small art museums and craft houses. We visit a shop where a woman has spent the last fifty years hand making small model geisha’s, which she sells for a small fortune. Next we enter a small shop selling badminton rackets decorated with kabuki theatre performers. We are given the history of Badminton. It turns out it all began in Japan as a game called Hanetsuki, before arriving in England and becoming the sport that it is known as today.

We swing by Kira-Kira Tachibana Street. There is a local street market here, surrounded by really old houses and some interesting side streets. I see a stall selling a watermelon for ¥2200. Next our tour takes us to Mukojima-Hyakkaen Gardens, the entrance fee is ¥150. We go to a traditional cafe and eat ¥500 rice balls with a sour plum topping served with a really tasty miso soup. We are then served a complimentary glass of a bright yellow liquid. It smells like flowers and tastes very sweet.

The cameras stop rolling and we take a short break. We are free to explore the gardens on our own for thirty minutes. I spend fifteen of the minutes trying to photograph a dragonfly in flight. We regroup and return to our bicycles. The final stop on our tour is Tokyo Skytree. Here we are each individually interviewed about the tour. We are given the option to stay and explore Tokyo Skytree Town on our own, or head back to the hostel. I decide to head back after an exhausting six hours of cycling into locals.

Back at the hostel Björk is playing through the speakers. I arrange to meet Conor, a friend from England I met almost two weeks ago. He’s back in Tokyo for two nights after travelling around Japan and South Korea. We meet at my hostel and go out in search for some food. We find a vending machine restaurant. I order hot soba noodles in a soy based broth. The noodles are topped with tempura vegetables, seaweed, and an egg. It costs just ¥480.

After food, we wander past a lit up Senso-ji, before heading for a drink. On the way, we see a kabuki theatre. A show has just finished and there are about ten people standing outside in full costume and makeup. I decide that I will come back here in a few days time to watch a show. After a drink I say goodbye to Conor and we head our separate ways to our hostels. At the hostel I go straight to my room to sleep off a very busy day of cycling and sightseeing.

Street Festivals, Buddhist Temples, Ninjas, and Rubix Cubes

Posted on 09/06/2014 by Luke

I am listening to Clint Mansell’s soundtrack for the film The Fountain as I drink a Yakult based watery yoghurt thing; I don’t really know what it is, except that it is disgusting. I am a little sad this morning, more people I have become friends with are leaving today. I check my messages, I have one from Satoko reminding me about the Oko Ceremony, saying that she hopes to see me there. I receive some good news too in the form of messages from both Grant and Edwina; they are back in Asakusa in a few days time and we will hang out again.

I leave the hostel and walk over the Sumida River to the Hongyoji Temple. Inside, I am seated and given a prayer book and prayer beads, there are about 450 people here. At exactly eleven we start to chant for ten minutes straight; the Temple is so very warm and my mouth is so very dry from the constant chanting. Next, the first prayer is read out and four silent prayers then follow. There is then another ten minutes of straight chanting before the Chief Priest Marakami-san comes out to deliver his sermon.

After the sermon has finished, a woman takes to the podium and reads something in Japanese, it moves her to tears. Next a man does the same. A brief chant concludes the 90 minute Ceremony. I am given a handwritten account of the Chief Priests sermon translated during the Ceremony by Satoko. I am asked by Yoko to please come and visit again, I say that I will. Outside the Temple the rain has finally stopped after a constant 72 hours of downpour. I feel thirsty and exhausted, but also pleased about the overall experience.

I start walking down the road to my hostel, after about 10 minutes on a random street corner I find a festival. I see a man named Kazuma, an artist from Shiburoko playing the guitar and singing very upbeat songs about being happy. I am handed a flyer in Japanese, it reads, ‘Asakusa spirit! Confused Street Live!’ There is also a schedule for the rest of today’s festivities, but it is written entirely in Japanese.

At the hostel I use the Internet to help translate the flyer. It reveals that at 4 p.m. a group called Yunlong Taiko will be playing a Japanese drum show. I bump into Heather, one of two English women I met last night, and we head out for the drum show. After the drumming stops, Heather and I take a walk up to the Sumida River, where we randomly see a man dressed in a full ninja outfit. I say to him, “Ninja!” He pulls his forefinger up to his lips and makes a ‘shhhh’ sound, before casually strolling off.

Back at the street festival the Hero Show is starting. This is a superhero-action-comedy starring Gun Caliber, famous for his live action features. I would explain the story but it genuinely made no sense to me at all. There was a scene where a woman dressed like the Pink Power Ranger came from nowhere and revived the defeated alligator/snake man with a large bag of biscuits. It was all very strange.

At the hostel Andy is still here. He couldn’t get a bus today so will stay in Asakusa at a different hostel for another night. We join Heather and Steffi, and the four of us head out to find a bar twenty minutes walk away that Andy has recommended. We stop off at a Lawson Stores for snacks, and I buy for ¥108 an egg sandwich that says: Making the everyday better. We arrive at Bar Nui and it looks impressive. It is a public bar on the ground floor of a hostel. ‘Bar opening times: 18:00 – 26:00’ boasts a sign outside. Inside I order the ‘big beer’ and am handed a massive 1 litre jug of Asahi, and a bill for ¥1000. Eventually I switch to The Macallan 12 year old at ¥700 a time.

Heading back to the hostel I realise that I had left my umbrella at the Lawson Stores on the way to the bar, so we stop off there; I am pleased to find that my umbrella is still intact. Andy and I buy cans of beer at Lawson Stores, just so we can walk down the street drinking alcohol in open containers, no outdoor drinking laws here! We pass two trouserless businessmen with ties around their heads. They insist on high-fiving us as they pass.

My night ends in the hostel listening to an in-depth and incredibly nerdy conversation between Andy and James about the algorithms and patterns used in solving the Rubix Cube. Andy claims that he can solve one in under 1 minute and has his Dayan Speed Cube in his bag at the other hostel. I am very disappointed that this has only come up in conversation on his final night.

Penguins, the Universe and Everything Else

Posted on 01/06/2014 by Luke

Once again it is very hot. The hottest day so far this year in Tokyo. A stroll along the Sumida River and into the city of Sumida signals the start of my Saturday. I start by heading towards the tallest tower in the world. Eventually I arrive at the base of Tokyo Skytree; here is an area known as Tokyo Skytree Town. It is full of souvenir shops and restaurants. There are plenty of tourists here today; 9 days ago was the two year anniversary of Skytree’s completion, and it seems the celebrations are still going on.

My initial plan today was to head to the top of Skytree and take some incredible photographs of Tokyo from the observation deck, but instead I see a sign for the Sumida Penguin Aquarium and my interest is piqued. I walk up to the ticket booth. “How many people?” I am asked by the lady at the counter. I make a deliberate point of looking over my own shoulder and around into the deserted space behind me, before indicting that it will be just one. I hand over my ¥2050 and enter the aquarium.

The first level of the aquarium is dedicated to living aquascapes, a word I heard for the first time yesterday, and will no doubt hear again tomorrow. The aquarium is quite small but does have some interesting things to see, most notable are the jellyfish and sharks. The highlight for me, however, is the aptly named ‘Animals Enjoying Water’ section. This is home to fur seals and loads of penguins. They seem to be enjoying the water.

After leaving the aquarium and deciding that half an hour is too long a time to be queueing for Skytree, I decide to check out Sumida Park. I don’t make it to the park though, as along the way I am randomly stopped by a Japanese lady who hands me a flyer and says, “Would you like to come and see our Temple?” I accept her offer and she guides me across the road to the Temple.

The Temple is home to a branch of Nichiren Buddhism called, Shoshu Buddhism. I am invited to sit down in front of a beautiful alter, but unfortunately I’m not allowed to take photographs inside the Temple. Three more people join us, one man and two women. One of the women speaks very good English, and so we sit and she tells me the story and history of how this branch of Buddhism began and what it means.

Next I am given prayer beads to wear across my hands and invited to chant with them. “Nam-Myoho-Renge-Kyo,” repeat three times. After we chant, I sit for a while longer discussing their beliefs. They ask me if I would come to their Buddhist ceremony in eight days time at the Temple. I accept their invitation and we chant one more time before leaving the temple and saying our goodbyes.

On the way back to the hostel I see a blindfolded street juggler. He manages six balls at once and gets quite the applause from the large crowd that has gathered around. Then I see a man on stilts dressed as a dragon, but with a white painted face and a terrifying smile. Finally I see a woman in a bright red suit and matching hat, she is wandering around one of the many markets playing the accordion and being photographed by just about everyone.

My intrigue leads me to the sound of a beating drum, and I soon arrive at a random pole lantern festival in the middle of a crowded street. The performers here balance massive 12 metre tall lantern poles on their palms, foreheads and backs; while other participants hit drums, play flutes and get the audience to clap and sing chants of encouragement. These lanterns are usually lit with candles, but it is the middle of the day, so perhaps this is just a practice for a performance later tonight.

After the festival has finished and the performers have left, I head back to the hostel for a beer and a short rest.

A few beers later and I need food. I think about risking the hot food vending machine, but it only sells ‘Casual Hot Foods.’ Instead I head back out into the burning hot streets of Asakusa and take the ten minute walk to a one Michelin starred sushi restaurant, ‘Sushi Isshin Asakusa.’ It is closed. I think about waiting for two hours for it to open, instead I decide that I will come back here another day, and to see what else is in this area.

The next street from the restaurant features a market selling plants and shrubberies. The market is huge and spans far off into the distance. There are even people in uniforms specifically here to direct the traffic. There are not many restaurants though, so I head back towards the middle of Asakusa, and I am so glad that I did.

I get to see this guy. A random mime promoting Pantomime Week here in Tokyo. His show is in Japanese, but is easy to understand as it is mostly body language. I stay and watch the whole fifteen minute show and find it hilariously funny. After he is done, I throw some money in his hat before heading off to finally get food.

I decide on a little Italian restaurant. I know it isn’t Japanese food and I’m not in Rome, but I am longing for something familiar after a crazy few days. I decide on a tuna, eggplant, and oregano pizza. It costs ¥1450, and tastes somewhat average. The restaurant also sells small bottles of Asahi for ¥600, which is far too expensive. After food I head back to the hostel to sleep off a very busy day.

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