Tokyo and the Emperor of the Night

Christine and I meet up at 10 a.m., catching the Tokyo Metro Ginza Line to Shibuya. Today is once again warm, and all traces of Christmas Day are gone. There are no longer decorations outside shops, and the music of the festive season has been replaced by Taylor Swift, Oasis, and, of course, AKB48. Inside Shibuya Station, we spot another random horse.

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We head outside and into the scramble of people as we cross Shibuya Crossing. My opinion of the crossing remains unchanged; it’s just a road. Many tourists are gathered here, taking photographs of people walking along the intersection. This once again demonstrates the power of the guidebook — a simple mention of any place, and tourists flock there.

We wander through the chaos of Shibuya, passing bright lights and television screens practically shouting at us to buy things. However, there isn’t the usual post-Christmas shopping frenzy going on here; this is just a normal day in Shibuya. We decide to explore a building shaped like a castle, which turns out to be the Disney Store. The place is filled with stuffed toys and Italian puppets.

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With nothing worth buying and a planned trip to Tokyo Disneyland later this week, we leave the Disney Store empty-handed. Next, we walk to Harajuku Station and take a stroll down the trendy Takeshita Street, full of teen fashion and crêperies, before heading over to Meiji Shrine. While waiting to cross the road, I notice the monk who tried to scam me almost six months ago is still here, attempting to lure in tourists. I simply laugh at him and shake my head as he tries to hand me his gold Siddhārtha Gautama card

We wander into Meiji Shrine, a serene Shinto shrine dedicated to the spirit of Emperor Meiji. As we stroll along the path, absorbing the tranquil atmosphere, a friendly Japanese person notices us and begins to wave, their warm greeting adding a touch of local hospitality to our visit.
“Hello, welcome to Japan,” he says enthusiastically. “Are you American?”
“No, from England.”
“Ah, England! Where in England?”
“Close to Manchester,” I tell him, avoiding the need to explain the location of my unknown town.
“Ah, Manchester United,” he says, “Soccer.” He makes a kicking gesture, emphasising that soccer means football. The man modestly plays down my remarks about his English ability before going on his merry way.

We pass through wooden torii gates and by massive barrels of donated sake before heading to the main shrine.

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The cleansing ritual has become second nature to me now, and Christine manages it perfectly, despite having only done it once before. We wander around looking for a place to get our fortunes, hoping to rectify the ‘Bad Fortune’ from yesterday, but it doesn’t appear that this service is offered here.

We wander the length of the shrine and exit on the other side, finding ourselves amidst the vibrant carnival that is Shinjuku. We stroll through Shinjuku Park Tower, the building that houses the Park Hyatt Hotel, famous not only in its own right but also well-known for its feature in the movie Lost in Translation.

We head to the Tokyo Metropolitan Government Building, only to be unexpectedly attacked by a masked assailant inside.

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The oni, a demon in Japanese folklore known as a ‘Blue Devil,’ surprisingly works for the Japanese Government. Guiding us, he directs to the lift, and we swiftly ascend to the 45th floor of the building.

From the panoramic observation deck, I can see Mount Fuji in the distance. Its snowy white peak blends seamlessly into the clouds, and if you didn’t know where the mountain sits on the horizon, you would never know it was there. Huge office buildings sprawl in every direction, making Tokyo look endless from this height.

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I check out the tacky souvenirs and discover that my name in Japanese kanji can mean ‘Lapis Wings Eternal.’ However, given the multiple meanings kanji can have, I opt for a more impactful name. From the available possibilities, I decide that my name actually means ‘Nine Immortal Dragons.’

We leave the government building and make our way to Shinjuku Station. After queueing at the ticket office for about ten minutes, we hand over the tickets from our Narita Express debacle yesterday. We successfully manage to get ¥3800 of our ¥6780 refunded, a welcome bonus. With a sense of triumph, we decide that the Japan Railway Company will be covering the cost of our tempura lunch.

We wander through Shinjuku for a while before deciding to head back to Asakusa. I consider buying a coffee but can’t decide whether I want black coffee, black coffee, or black coffee.

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Back in Asakusa, we meet up with some of the other people staying in the hostel, Jeff and Ajitan. The four of us head out for a quick drink at Nui before taking a taxi over to Ryogoku. We find ourselves at a bar called ‘Popeye,’ a delightful place boasting seventy-four different craft beers on tap. Following the bar, we return to Asakusa for some affordable Chinese food before ending the night with karaoke and all-around merriment.

Niagara Falls and Karaoke!

I  am standing in the panoramic observation deck on the 45th floor of the Tokyo Metropolitan Government Building and the view is amazing. I am here with two of the people I was drinking with last night. Daryl, a guy from Tennessee, Ollie, a guy from England, and Edwina, an Australian who we met this morning in the hostel. At the ground level of the building, for no apparent reason, there is a tourist information office selling onions. We leave the Government Building and wander Shinjuku in search of food.

We stop at a random bakery in a train station. I buy two of something that I am told is fish, and some green tea in a bottle for a total of ¥399. The green tea comes with a complimentary tea bag. We walk to Shinjuku Central Park and sit on a bench in front of Shinjuku Niagara Falls. I eat my fish bread, it is very disappointing and I regret purchasing two. After we eat, we wander the park and eventually find a stone gazebo with a bench and table. Ollie randomly has a deck of playing cards, so the four of us sit for a few hours playing cards. It is the first time I forget that I am in Japan.

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We eventually leave the park, leave Shinjuku, and head back. We stop off at the biggest convenience store I have ever seen, with five floors selling just about everything. I finally find a bottle of 12-year-old Hibiki for ¥4361; they also sell the much rarer 21-year-old Hibiki, for the so low price of ¥17,047; which is about 50% cheaper than back home.

After a brief rest, Edwina, Daryl and I head out for some food. Inside a restaurant we order five or six dishes between us and share everything. We eat deep fried fish paste, deep fried tofu, deep fried squid, deep fried mackerel, deep fried crab, and some delicious vegetable I’ve never heard of before; the vegetable is deep fried, of course. We are also served a complimentary Japanese omelette. The food is really good. It comes to a total of ¥4600 between the three of us.

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After the meal we head back to the hostel and regroup with the others. I chat with Daisuke, the Japanese guy that works here. He is making a joke about the check-in time being 3 p.m. at the hostel. He says, “3 o’clock chicken time!” Then starts to make chicken noises. He repeats this joke probably one hundred times, before it starts to get old. He also teaches me a new word, ‘nomihodai’, meaning all-you-can-drink.

Eventually it is time to head out and we take the short five minute walk to the karaoke building. Somehow Daryl has managed to round up a total of 17 people. We are given a private nomihodai room with a wonderful view of the neon Tokyo skyline. In our room there is a phone that calls reception, which is used for ordering beer. We order fifteen beers at a time.

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We finally figure out how to change the instructions to English, and the karaoke begins. Randomly, Pop is Dead is one of the 22 Radiohead songs available. My rendition of Fake Plastic Trees scores ‘92% accurate rating!’

Pictures are taken and pitchers of beer are delivered to our room every five minutes. We sing, we laugh, we drink. Eventually we are all very drunk. I vaguely remember us all singing Hey Jude, but I don’t remember much else. After what was probably four hours of solid karaoke, I return to the hostel and sleep off an incredible evening.