Chapter 5
Day 5
Tokyo - Between Swords and Earthquakes, first part
It was early morning, my wristwatch in the dim light from the window, was showing just 5.00 a.m.. The sky was starting to brighten, there, far away, above that partially cloudy horizon. Some dark and huge clouds were approaching after a long journey across this oriental night. I turned around in my narrow space in this tiny bed, between Lula and the thin pasterboard-wall that made me feel like I was sleeping with my noisy neighbour.
The Sakè that I drunk the previous evening, although very good, handed me down a sleepless night, and by that time in the early morning, I was already (or perhaps still) awaken. So, I got up and somehow I managed to reach the bathroom to refresh myself. When I came back to the tiny bed, I felt like everything was rocking. Bloody Sakè!
The room was keeping on rocking and then, all of a sudden, started a weird sound, like a crackling noise from the windows. At this point, Lula turned around and said
“Fra, what the heck are you doing?”
If she was feeling the same thing, it shouldn’t be the Sakè.
“Lula, bloody hell, it’s an Earthquake!”
The room started rocking harder and harder. In those moments I felt like I was on some sort of a seesaw. Yes, caged into a seesaw at the eleventh floor of this hotel.
At the word “Earthquake”, Lula passed straight from her “REM” status to the one “I’m awaken and damn panicking for the Earthquake!”, and while I was just finishing to say the word “Earthquake” she was already standing on her feet and running around the room. Not that she had to cover broad empty spaces as our room was barely two square metres wide.
Everything was rocking and crackling. I jumped down the bed and I reminded of that “Emergency management” lesson, when they told us that one of the safest places was under the door gate. Though they didn’t specify if this rule applied also with the pasterboard-walls of the Japanese hotels. I grabbed Lula while everything was swinging and held her under the door. In those moments we saw our neighbours that were running down the stairs. They were a young couple, and they were Mr. Boxer-Pants-Wearer and Miss Granma-Duck-Night-Gown-Wearer. We, at least, were wearing our Yukata like the locals. Well, even with the Earthquakes, we are masters of the camouflage. Then, after such a time that felt like eternity, the Earthquake, just like it started, it finished. So, we changed our clothes and rushed down to the hotel hall where the Japanese personnel looked absolutely quiet and invited us to come back to our rooms. Two years later I was informed that the Earthquake “Emergency management” rules that I was taught were wrong. The new guidelines say that people should hide under a table or a desk. The problem, by those times, would have been that in our room we hadn’t a table or a desk where to hide.
We came back to our room and, unbelievably, in spite of the Earthquake, we fell asleep. Few hours later we woke up under a heavy storm. This should have been the day of the trip to Hakone and Mountain Fuji, but seen that weather, we gave up the idea. It should be better to spend a day in Tokyo, maybe having a stroll in the centre.
As soon as we finished our breakfast I checked the news on internet. It looked like the Earthquake had been a magnitude 7 of the Richter scale and lasted 30 seconds. It had its epicentre just outside the Tokyo sea and in spite the Hotel workers had their self control and face of “Hmmm... It's always like this, quakes are our national digestive...”, it looked like it was exceptional. The Earthquake caused even some problem around all the central Honshu Island too. Lula was right to be scared. Only when we came back to Italy, I've found news telling that it was “just” a 6 Richter scale.
Now that we felt like the survivors from an apocalyptic movie, we headed for a new day of exploration. But in spite going to scavenge around a city in ruins, we were going to see the high-tech and commercial heart of the sparking and lively capital of Japan. Anyway, that day, every time we felt the tiniest vibration, like a burping sparrow, we were scared like hell was breaking open in front of us. It was weird. Indeed.
The Sakè that I drunk the previous evening, although very good, handed me down a sleepless night, and by that time in the early morning, I was already (or perhaps still) awaken. So, I got up and somehow I managed to reach the bathroom to refresh myself. When I came back to the tiny bed, I felt like everything was rocking. Bloody Sakè!
The room was keeping on rocking and then, all of a sudden, started a weird sound, like a crackling noise from the windows. At this point, Lula turned around and said
“Fra, what the heck are you doing?”
If she was feeling the same thing, it shouldn’t be the Sakè.
“Lula, bloody hell, it’s an Earthquake!”
The room started rocking harder and harder. In those moments I felt like I was on some sort of a seesaw. Yes, caged into a seesaw at the eleventh floor of this hotel.
At the word “Earthquake”, Lula passed straight from her “REM” status to the one “I’m awaken and damn panicking for the Earthquake!”, and while I was just finishing to say the word “Earthquake” she was already standing on her feet and running around the room. Not that she had to cover broad empty spaces as our room was barely two square metres wide.
Everything was rocking and crackling. I jumped down the bed and I reminded of that “Emergency management” lesson, when they told us that one of the safest places was under the door gate. Though they didn’t specify if this rule applied also with the pasterboard-walls of the Japanese hotels. I grabbed Lula while everything was swinging and held her under the door. In those moments we saw our neighbours that were running down the stairs. They were a young couple, and they were Mr. Boxer-Pants-Wearer and Miss Granma-Duck-Night-Gown-Wearer. We, at least, were wearing our Yukata like the locals. Well, even with the Earthquakes, we are masters of the camouflage. Then, after such a time that felt like eternity, the Earthquake, just like it started, it finished. So, we changed our clothes and rushed down to the hotel hall where the Japanese personnel looked absolutely quiet and invited us to come back to our rooms. Two years later I was informed that the Earthquake “Emergency management” rules that I was taught were wrong. The new guidelines say that people should hide under a table or a desk. The problem, by those times, would have been that in our room we hadn’t a table or a desk where to hide.
We came back to our room and, unbelievably, in spite of the Earthquake, we fell asleep. Few hours later we woke up under a heavy storm. This should have been the day of the trip to Hakone and Mountain Fuji, but seen that weather, we gave up the idea. It should be better to spend a day in Tokyo, maybe having a stroll in the centre.
As soon as we finished our breakfast I checked the news on internet. It looked like the Earthquake had been a magnitude 7 of the Richter scale and lasted 30 seconds. It had its epicentre just outside the Tokyo sea and in spite the Hotel workers had their self control and face of “Hmmm... It's always like this, quakes are our national digestive...”, it looked like it was exceptional. The Earthquake caused even some problem around all the central Honshu Island too. Lula was right to be scared. Only when we came back to Italy, I've found news telling that it was “just” a 6 Richter scale.
Now that we felt like the survivors from an apocalyptic movie, we headed for a new day of exploration. But in spite going to scavenge around a city in ruins, we were going to see the high-tech and commercial heart of the sparking and lively capital of Japan. Anyway, that day, every time we felt the tiniest vibration, like a burping sparrow, we were scared like hell was breaking open in front of us. It was weird. Indeed.
Senso-Ji Temple - The Home of the Goddess Kannon
We wore shorts, sandals and packed our raincoats in our backpacks. Now we were ready to face a Tokyo under a pouring rain.
We checked our guide books and we decided to begin our exploration with the visit of the Senso-Ji Temple and then, to go to one of the oldest Onsen that was just behind the very temple.
The Senso-Ji temple is devoted to the Goddess Kannon. The Goddess of Compassion. We arrived to the Temple grounds that by day looked much different than we were used to know. Now, in the daytime, all the walkway toward the temple was flanked by rows of small stalls where were sold both holy things and souvenir.
We checked our guide books and we decided to begin our exploration with the visit of the Senso-Ji Temple and then, to go to one of the oldest Onsen that was just behind the very temple.
The Senso-Ji temple is devoted to the Goddess Kannon. The Goddess of Compassion. We arrived to the Temple grounds that by day looked much different than we were used to know. Now, in the daytime, all the walkway toward the temple was flanked by rows of small stalls where were sold both holy things and souvenir.
Kannon Goddess
Kannon personifies compassion and is one of the most widely worshipped divinities in Asia and Japan in both ancient and modern times. Kannon’s origins are unclear, but most scholars agree that Kannon worship began in India around the 1st or 2nd century AD and then spread to Southeast Asia, China, Korea, and most other Asian nations. Veneration of Kannon in Japan began in the late 6th century, soon after Buddism reached Japanb by way of Korea and China. In Japan, Kannon’s paradise is known as fudarakusen. It is commonly said to be located at the southern tip of India (which supports theories of Kannon’s Indian origin). Many Kannon statues from Japan’s Asuka Era (538 to 710) are still extant. Originally male in form, Kannon is now often portrayed as female in China, Japan, and other East Asian countries. Each of these nations dressed Kannon in different forms to suit their own temperaments and spiritual concepts. The Sino-Japanese term Kannon 観音 (Chinese = Guānyīn) literally means watchful listening, and is often translated as “one who sees / hears all.” This is indeed the task of the compassionate Kannon — to witness and listen to the prayers and cries of those in difficulty in the earthly realm, and to help them achieve salvation. Another Japanese name for Kannon is Kanzeon 観世音, the one who constantly surveys (kan 観) the world (ze 世) listening for the sounds (on 音) of suffering. It was later shortened to Kannon. Kannon is a Bodhisatva (Jp. = Bosatsu), one who achieves enlightenment but postpones Buddhahood until all can be saved. Kannon is mentioned in numerous Mahayana sutras, especially the Lotus Sutra 法華経 (Hokekyō), which was translated into Chinese by Kumārajīva (Jp. = Kumarajū 鳩摩羅什, 350 - 410), who rendered Kannon’s name as “One Who Observes the Sounds of the World.” Kannon also appears in the Kegonkyō 華厳経 (Skt. = Avatamsaka Sutra) and Hannya Shingyō 般若心経 (Skt. = Prajnaparamita Sutra; Engish = Heart Sutra), as well as in scriptures of the pure land school like the Muryōju-kyō 無量寿経, and in tantric (esoteric) texts such as Jūichimen Kanzeon Shinju-kyō and Senju Sengen Darani-kyō. For further reading: http://www.onmarkproductions.com/html/kannon.shtml |
We made our way up to the temple barely browsing the goods in display. Some fake sword with hallucinogenic colour, some painting, some holy statue, clothes, banners, flags and lots of other things. Japanese people were smiling to us, probably knowing that most of the Italians that chose Japan for their holidays are usually Japan-addicted people that fall in an obsessive need to buy anything connected to Japan. We were in Japan for just few days but we already decided what we wished to buy, and we wanted something more genuine. But we didn’t put in the account one thing. A big one… Actually, more than one.
Take all the 1, 2 and 3 ingredients and blend them. Put them on a Japanese shopping salad, and feed the need of buy the mark “4” point in the above list.
I browsed the stalls. No, the sword forged by a colourblind Japanese blacksmith under the effect of LSD wasn't a smart idea. No, the Kannon statue could show well in my showcase, not in my dad's... The banner? No. The Japanese war flag? My dad loved the “Midway” movie and was on the side of Carlton Heston not Yamamoto's. A kitchen knives set? Too heavy... And then I found her. She was there, with her bright white colour... It was a bandana with written over the famous WWII Japanese war scream “Banzai!” (it may mean both “Ten Thousand Years” like “Long life” or the shortened version of “Tenno Heika Banzai” that means “Long Life to the Emperor”). Why that? Carlton Heston was asking me this question from the deck of the bridge of a carrier in the “Midway Battle”. I imagine my dad with the bandana screaming “Banzai”. A disturbing scene... I shook away the thought and like a thunderbolt I reminded that crazy Japanese TV-show broadcasted in Italy in the ‘80s under the name of “Mai Dire Banzai” (The TV show was a mix of scenes from the two Japanese shows “Takeshi's Castle” and “The Gaman”) and the absolute madness of the scenes... Too late, I gave the money to a smiling Japanese lady and the bandana was mine. Lula looked at me and her lips moved telling me such a sweet word of approval for my purchase “Franz... This is a bullshit”.
We passed under the Tower Gate, with the Kongōrikishi statues that were looking furiously at us from both sides. Three huge lanterns hang from the ceiling of the three central gates. We passed through this gate and we reached the main temple. Here there were many people praying and lighting incense sticks. The confusion and noise all around were in total contraposition to the quiet of when we visited this same temple by night.
We visited the main altar where priests were leading the prayers for casual-dressed people. On the right-hand side there was the Kannon Oracle, which is exactly like the Goddess Kannon Chinese counterpart, the Godded Kuan Yin. To have a foretelling of your future, you’ve to collect a can full of bamboo sticks. You’ve to shake, shake and shake it until a stick falls off the can. Then you’ve to collect it and check which number (hopefully in Roman fonts) is noted over. At this point, you’ve to collect a piece of paper from a sort of cabinet with many small shelves, each with a number. On that paper there will be written your future. By the way, you should leave an offer to the Goddess.
We went out of the main temple, we passed by the tower with many pagoda roofs, and we reached the temple garden that we didn’t visit yet. The gardens were very beautiful, and I liked a part, just behind of the temple, where was built an artificial river which was crossed by a bridge. Under the bridge there was a pond where many goldfish where swimming peacefully. All around there were cared flowerbeds and the path was flanked by stone lanterns. In the end of the garden there was a mighty samurai statue. He was posed holding with a hand a sheathed katana sword and in the other a fan. His face is serious, the pose low like he’s ready for a flashing strike of his sword, his eyes are focused on you. He’s so dynamic that looks like he could suddenly leave the fan and jump over you with his unsheaded sword. Then, we seen the board at his sides, it said “Shibaraku Statue: A copper statue of the 9th Danjuro Ichikawa (1830-1903), the famous Kabuki actor. He is shown in the role depicting Shibaraku which was his forte”. Ok, he’s not a Samurai… Perhaps his attack would have been with some make-up-foundation and lips gloss… I already imagine him jumping over me and drawing cat whiskers on my face with his lipstick… Anyway, the statue is awesome.
- I'm a shopaholic;
- I've no sense of good taste;
- I'm totally surreal.
- I needed to buy something for that hard-to-satisfy-when-you-bring-him-gifts man that is my dad.
Take all the 1, 2 and 3 ingredients and blend them. Put them on a Japanese shopping salad, and feed the need of buy the mark “4” point in the above list.
I browsed the stalls. No, the sword forged by a colourblind Japanese blacksmith under the effect of LSD wasn't a smart idea. No, the Kannon statue could show well in my showcase, not in my dad's... The banner? No. The Japanese war flag? My dad loved the “Midway” movie and was on the side of Carlton Heston not Yamamoto's. A kitchen knives set? Too heavy... And then I found her. She was there, with her bright white colour... It was a bandana with written over the famous WWII Japanese war scream “Banzai!” (it may mean both “Ten Thousand Years” like “Long life” or the shortened version of “Tenno Heika Banzai” that means “Long Life to the Emperor”). Why that? Carlton Heston was asking me this question from the deck of the bridge of a carrier in the “Midway Battle”. I imagine my dad with the bandana screaming “Banzai”. A disturbing scene... I shook away the thought and like a thunderbolt I reminded that crazy Japanese TV-show broadcasted in Italy in the ‘80s under the name of “Mai Dire Banzai” (The TV show was a mix of scenes from the two Japanese shows “Takeshi's Castle” and “The Gaman”) and the absolute madness of the scenes... Too late, I gave the money to a smiling Japanese lady and the bandana was mine. Lula looked at me and her lips moved telling me such a sweet word of approval for my purchase “Franz... This is a bullshit”.
We passed under the Tower Gate, with the Kongōrikishi statues that were looking furiously at us from both sides. Three huge lanterns hang from the ceiling of the three central gates. We passed through this gate and we reached the main temple. Here there were many people praying and lighting incense sticks. The confusion and noise all around were in total contraposition to the quiet of when we visited this same temple by night.
We visited the main altar where priests were leading the prayers for casual-dressed people. On the right-hand side there was the Kannon Oracle, which is exactly like the Goddess Kannon Chinese counterpart, the Godded Kuan Yin. To have a foretelling of your future, you’ve to collect a can full of bamboo sticks. You’ve to shake, shake and shake it until a stick falls off the can. Then you’ve to collect it and check which number (hopefully in Roman fonts) is noted over. At this point, you’ve to collect a piece of paper from a sort of cabinet with many small shelves, each with a number. On that paper there will be written your future. By the way, you should leave an offer to the Goddess.
We went out of the main temple, we passed by the tower with many pagoda roofs, and we reached the temple garden that we didn’t visit yet. The gardens were very beautiful, and I liked a part, just behind of the temple, where was built an artificial river which was crossed by a bridge. Under the bridge there was a pond where many goldfish where swimming peacefully. All around there were cared flowerbeds and the path was flanked by stone lanterns. In the end of the garden there was a mighty samurai statue. He was posed holding with a hand a sheathed katana sword and in the other a fan. His face is serious, the pose low like he’s ready for a flashing strike of his sword, his eyes are focused on you. He’s so dynamic that looks like he could suddenly leave the fan and jump over you with his unsheaded sword. Then, we seen the board at his sides, it said “Shibaraku Statue: A copper statue of the 9th Danjuro Ichikawa (1830-1903), the famous Kabuki actor. He is shown in the role depicting Shibaraku which was his forte”. Ok, he’s not a Samurai… Perhaps his attack would have been with some make-up-foundation and lips gloss… I already imagine him jumping over me and drawing cat whiskers on my face with his lipstick… Anyway, the statue is awesome.
Asakusa Kannon Onsen
We opened our guide book under the rain. Drops were dotting the pages and melting the ink. We turned pages and pages, and in the end we found the list of the Tokyo Onsens. The onsens are public baths, often with hot-spring water, rich in volcanic salts and minerals. Seen the weather of this day, we wished to lock ourselves up into an onsen and spend some times there. By good luck, in the previous days, we discovered that just nearby there would be one of the Tokyo oldest onsens. This one had a peculiarity. Water was pumped from the underground by the very onsen, while many others in Tokyo were taking the water in centre with trucks. We had to try this old onsen. The Asakusa Kannon Onsen (address: 2-7-26 Asakusa Taito-ku Tokyo)
We entered the onsen and after having paid a very cheap ticket, we were given two micro-towels and a small soap bar each. This is not a SPA but just a sort of public bath with hot-spring water, so it’s normal that it’s cheap. By the way, this one works also as a public bath for the local monks, so, if you go there, you can meet some of them. Men and women have different baths, so, I agreed with Lula to meet 30 minutes later at the exit of the onsen.
I entered my locker room, which shown all the years it had, maybe some in more too. Everything was old and falling apart. I left my backpack and clothes into a doorless locker, hoping to find it again later, then, with my small towel and soap bar I entered the empty space of the onsen. There were two pools, one with water which reached the 50°C and one a bit less than 40°C. Now a note on the etiquette, when you enter an onsen, you’ve to use the towel to cover your genitalia. I didn’t know this and thinking “it’s a place where everybody is naked” I entered with my towel on my shoulder and playing with the soap bar like I were a juggler.
I was dark skinned, I was with long hair, I’m hairy, I’m westerner… I was the mismatching bit of the onsen. All the monks, from the one boiling at 50°C in the monk soup to the one shampooing his shaved head to the one shaving away his eyebrows turned looking at me with half disapproval and half compassion looks on their faces “westerners are barbarians…”, as least I wasn’t fat, otherwise it would be “westerners are barbarian bears”. Perhaps all the prayers of these monks illuminated me and I understood how to behave. The yin and yang were recovered, the Zen spirit of the place came back and all the monks came back to their personal care duties.
I washed myself at one of those kindergarten low sinks. The soap, in spite being a little bar, it was extremely foamy and in less than a second I was covered in bubbles… By good luck that the monks were distracted otherwise, seen as I’m hairy, they could see my transformation from bear to foamy panda bear.
I showered myself using a bucket and then I entered the hot water. I started with the “less than 40°C” one. While waiting that I’d get accustomed to the heat, I remained some moment to contemplate the surrounds. I reminded the scene of the cartoon “Ranma ½”, when they speak of the Japanese Granpas that love to stay in the Onsen boiling waters. Back to the surrounding observations, the onsen was, actually a huge room split in two by a small wall which didn’t reach the roof. On the other side of the wall there was the women side. I could hear the voice of a Japanese lady trying to talk to Lula, and she was fumbling some answer in some language that only she knew. The wall that separated the two areas was covered with a beautiful mosaic showing two mermaids swimming in a blue sea.
I tried the 50°C water, but it was far too hot for me, so I came back at the first pool that now felt cold. I placed a bucket full of cold water on the border of the pool and I soaked there my mini-towel, then I placed it on my head, as I’ve seen so many times in the Japanese Cartoons (thank you Rumiko Takahashi!). This action was matching the onsen etiquette, by good luck.
It was only 15 minutes after the entrance in that hot water that that I decided that I had enough. I was starting to feel like having fever and I needed to escape that heat. I washed myself with cold water one more time and then came back to my locker room, where I found my stuff exactly where I left. Actually, Japan is probably the safest country of the world and I knew it, but I was afraid of sharing my locker room with the only thief of the country. By good luck, the thief was probably in another onsen that day.
When I reached the exit of the onsen I found Lula that was already waiting for me. We spent a bit of less than 30 minutes there, but it had been very nice too. I was looking forward to repeat the experience one day or the other.
By the time that we were in the onsen it stopped raining. So, it was time to go to explore the centre of the city, but before leaving Asakusa we had to stop by a vending machine for cold drink as we felt boiling after that hot water.
We entered the onsen and after having paid a very cheap ticket, we were given two micro-towels and a small soap bar each. This is not a SPA but just a sort of public bath with hot-spring water, so it’s normal that it’s cheap. By the way, this one works also as a public bath for the local monks, so, if you go there, you can meet some of them. Men and women have different baths, so, I agreed with Lula to meet 30 minutes later at the exit of the onsen.
I entered my locker room, which shown all the years it had, maybe some in more too. Everything was old and falling apart. I left my backpack and clothes into a doorless locker, hoping to find it again later, then, with my small towel and soap bar I entered the empty space of the onsen. There were two pools, one with water which reached the 50°C and one a bit less than 40°C. Now a note on the etiquette, when you enter an onsen, you’ve to use the towel to cover your genitalia. I didn’t know this and thinking “it’s a place where everybody is naked” I entered with my towel on my shoulder and playing with the soap bar like I were a juggler.
I was dark skinned, I was with long hair, I’m hairy, I’m westerner… I was the mismatching bit of the onsen. All the monks, from the one boiling at 50°C in the monk soup to the one shampooing his shaved head to the one shaving away his eyebrows turned looking at me with half disapproval and half compassion looks on their faces “westerners are barbarians…”, as least I wasn’t fat, otherwise it would be “westerners are barbarian bears”. Perhaps all the prayers of these monks illuminated me and I understood how to behave. The yin and yang were recovered, the Zen spirit of the place came back and all the monks came back to their personal care duties.
I washed myself at one of those kindergarten low sinks. The soap, in spite being a little bar, it was extremely foamy and in less than a second I was covered in bubbles… By good luck that the monks were distracted otherwise, seen as I’m hairy, they could see my transformation from bear to foamy panda bear.
I showered myself using a bucket and then I entered the hot water. I started with the “less than 40°C” one. While waiting that I’d get accustomed to the heat, I remained some moment to contemplate the surrounds. I reminded the scene of the cartoon “Ranma ½”, when they speak of the Japanese Granpas that love to stay in the Onsen boiling waters. Back to the surrounding observations, the onsen was, actually a huge room split in two by a small wall which didn’t reach the roof. On the other side of the wall there was the women side. I could hear the voice of a Japanese lady trying to talk to Lula, and she was fumbling some answer in some language that only she knew. The wall that separated the two areas was covered with a beautiful mosaic showing two mermaids swimming in a blue sea.
I tried the 50°C water, but it was far too hot for me, so I came back at the first pool that now felt cold. I placed a bucket full of cold water on the border of the pool and I soaked there my mini-towel, then I placed it on my head, as I’ve seen so many times in the Japanese Cartoons (thank you Rumiko Takahashi!). This action was matching the onsen etiquette, by good luck.
It was only 15 minutes after the entrance in that hot water that that I decided that I had enough. I was starting to feel like having fever and I needed to escape that heat. I washed myself with cold water one more time and then came back to my locker room, where I found my stuff exactly where I left. Actually, Japan is probably the safest country of the world and I knew it, but I was afraid of sharing my locker room with the only thief of the country. By good luck, the thief was probably in another onsen that day.
When I reached the exit of the onsen I found Lula that was already waiting for me. We spent a bit of less than 30 minutes there, but it had been very nice too. I was looking forward to repeat the experience one day or the other.
By the time that we were in the onsen it stopped raining. So, it was time to go to explore the centre of the city, but before leaving Asakusa we had to stop by a vending machine for cold drink as we felt boiling after that hot water.
Onsen Do and Don’t
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Onsen Vs Sento
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From Ginza and Shinbashi to Kamiyacho
We left Asakusa and we took a train straight to Ginza. Here we spent some times wandering around, browsing some shop and then we headed for a nice smoking coffee. When we reached Ginza it already it stopped raining. The humidity in those moments was at her max and, combined with the heat, at the first step outside the air-conditioned tube station, we were already drenched in sweat. We decided to have this day in total relax, but in spite this was our goal, our thought kept on being on the previous night Earthquake.
While we were sipping our coffee we designed a “Plan B” for the day. The “Plan B” involved stopping pretending that we were interested in shopping, and we’d go to visit the Tokyo Tower and the neighbouring areas.
I took one of our maps and wrote down the route, we had to walk quite a nice piece of street. So, we headed out of the coffee shop, went to Shinbashi and we followed the Sotobori Dori (Sotobori Street) up to the Tranomon Station. Here we noticed that, as much as we got far from both Ginza and Shinbashi, more the street looked ordinary. The high-tech shops, the malls and the fashion shops disappeared. This was the land of the ordinary shops for ordinary people. This sushi restaurant was like the previous one. This electronic shop was like the previous one. And so on so forth.
Once we reached the Tranomon Station we turned into the Sakurada Dori and we headed to the Kamiyacho neighbourhood. Here the shops improved a little again. Along this street we found two points of interest. The first one was a Temple on the hill on the right-hand side of the street. To reach the temple we had to climb a steep stairway which starts with a Torii Portal. Actually, there were no boards showing the name of the Temple, but, just to give an idea where to find it, leaving the Tranomon Station, it’s almost in the end of Sakurada Dori. The temple is very small, but we liked it very much. In fact, it was the first temple that we visited without any other tourist around. This was the reign of peace and contemplation, where people can meditate at the sound of the many small bells. We relaxed here for some minute, and then, we came back to Sakurada Dori.
Along the Sakurada Dori we found both a shop and a confirmation. The shop was selling Japanese Swords, and in this shop we had the confirmation that Japanese people is naïve, and pretty much.
Will Fergusson wrote in his book “Hitching rides with Buddha” that once in Japan, which hitch-hiking for a ride, a Lady stopped with her car and he described the situation like this:
“Inside the car was a woman who had surprised herself by stopping. She was in her middle years, but had a bobbed girl’s haircut that defied the arithmetic of age. She was all afluster. “What have I done?” she said aloud.
I opened the door and was halfway in when she said, “Wait! Stop!”
“Yes?” I was in limbo, my head in the door, my buttocks thrust out into traffic.
“Are you dangerous?”
“What?”
“I said, Are you dangerous?”
I wasn’t sure I heard her correctly. “Who? Me? No, I’m not dangerous at all.”
“You promise?”
“Sure.”
“All right, then,” she said. “You can get in.”
And that was how I met the unsinkable, irrepressible, wholly undeniable …, a woman who believed in bad men but not bad dishonest men. I had given her my word of honour that I would not harm her, and she was satisfied”.
Yes, Japanese people, sometimes, can be very naïve, and I met one like that on my way too. By the way, before I continue, I make some commercial: Read the book I mentioned above! End of the commercial.
We were walking up Sakurada Dori and almost in the end of it we were attracted by the windows of a Swords Shop. Actually, the first thing that caught our eyes was a Samurai armor. I find difficult to discern a Samurai from a Katanaka (general name of a Swordman), so I could be wrong calling it a “Samurai Armor”. She was beautiful, no, not at all. She was scary with that red mask showing a face twisted in an anger scream… A red mask with glued over gray hairy mustaches. It was far too kitsch to stop us from entering the shop.
As soon as we entered the shop we found ourselves in the Swords Empire, the ambitious secret dream of every swordman, a chromed-polished-blades orgy. Deadly instrument so gracious that could be mistaken with art masterpieces. We wandered around the shop, sometimes pointing a sword with a finger, sometimes pointing a Tanto balde and so on so forth. At this point a young clerk joined us. I think that it wasn’t much an attempt of selling us a blade, but more likely, it was just a way to spend some time in company. So, he started chatting with us.
He asked us if we wished to see some swords and in short he took off of a shelf a “Tourists Sword”. I grabbed it and he asked me if I could use a sword. I answered that I did some year of Aikido (in which I learnt almost nothing), and the basic use of the Bokken, the wooden sword, was part of the curriculum. When he heard the words “Aikido” and “Bokken” he brightened up. He took the “Tourist Sword” from my hand and placed it back at her place. Then he took a couple of new swords saying that these were among his “Better Swords”. I kept on praising his swords (which had scary prices to be a souvenir) and in the end, when he was flattered by my praising, he took a small key from his pocket and took one of his “Best Swords”. He said that it was in “Blue Steel” and he said that it was super-light as well as unbreakable. I grabbed it and I never felt something like that in a sword. It was light and very beautiful. At this point, still knowing that I could handle that sword quite well, and knowing that he just gave me a blade worth some thousand Euro, which had a razor-sharp edge, decided that being an Aikidoka I should follow the sacred path of the non-violence and I was worth to be trusted like a gentle and loyal Samurai. So, he bent on his knees to fasten his shoes. He had his bare neck just under my sword. He was lucky that I wasn’t neither a bad and dishonest man. When he stood up, I passed the sword to Lula that tried it a little. I didn’t confess him that he just had a near death experience… I don’t mean me holding the sword, but the fact that Lula was holding that weapon and didn’t know what to do with it. She could kill the Korean invading Army using a teapot and a skimmer, while thinking of being preparing a tea… Just a little later we left the shop with a long series of “Arigato” to this gentle clerk and his nice sword mate.
While we were sipping our coffee we designed a “Plan B” for the day. The “Plan B” involved stopping pretending that we were interested in shopping, and we’d go to visit the Tokyo Tower and the neighbouring areas.
I took one of our maps and wrote down the route, we had to walk quite a nice piece of street. So, we headed out of the coffee shop, went to Shinbashi and we followed the Sotobori Dori (Sotobori Street) up to the Tranomon Station. Here we noticed that, as much as we got far from both Ginza and Shinbashi, more the street looked ordinary. The high-tech shops, the malls and the fashion shops disappeared. This was the land of the ordinary shops for ordinary people. This sushi restaurant was like the previous one. This electronic shop was like the previous one. And so on so forth.
Once we reached the Tranomon Station we turned into the Sakurada Dori and we headed to the Kamiyacho neighbourhood. Here the shops improved a little again. Along this street we found two points of interest. The first one was a Temple on the hill on the right-hand side of the street. To reach the temple we had to climb a steep stairway which starts with a Torii Portal. Actually, there were no boards showing the name of the Temple, but, just to give an idea where to find it, leaving the Tranomon Station, it’s almost in the end of Sakurada Dori. The temple is very small, but we liked it very much. In fact, it was the first temple that we visited without any other tourist around. This was the reign of peace and contemplation, where people can meditate at the sound of the many small bells. We relaxed here for some minute, and then, we came back to Sakurada Dori.
Along the Sakurada Dori we found both a shop and a confirmation. The shop was selling Japanese Swords, and in this shop we had the confirmation that Japanese people is naïve, and pretty much.
Will Fergusson wrote in his book “Hitching rides with Buddha” that once in Japan, which hitch-hiking for a ride, a Lady stopped with her car and he described the situation like this:
“Inside the car was a woman who had surprised herself by stopping. She was in her middle years, but had a bobbed girl’s haircut that defied the arithmetic of age. She was all afluster. “What have I done?” she said aloud.
I opened the door and was halfway in when she said, “Wait! Stop!”
“Yes?” I was in limbo, my head in the door, my buttocks thrust out into traffic.
“Are you dangerous?”
“What?”
“I said, Are you dangerous?”
I wasn’t sure I heard her correctly. “Who? Me? No, I’m not dangerous at all.”
“You promise?”
“Sure.”
“All right, then,” she said. “You can get in.”
And that was how I met the unsinkable, irrepressible, wholly undeniable …, a woman who believed in bad men but not bad dishonest men. I had given her my word of honour that I would not harm her, and she was satisfied”.
Yes, Japanese people, sometimes, can be very naïve, and I met one like that on my way too. By the way, before I continue, I make some commercial: Read the book I mentioned above! End of the commercial.
We were walking up Sakurada Dori and almost in the end of it we were attracted by the windows of a Swords Shop. Actually, the first thing that caught our eyes was a Samurai armor. I find difficult to discern a Samurai from a Katanaka (general name of a Swordman), so I could be wrong calling it a “Samurai Armor”. She was beautiful, no, not at all. She was scary with that red mask showing a face twisted in an anger scream… A red mask with glued over gray hairy mustaches. It was far too kitsch to stop us from entering the shop.
As soon as we entered the shop we found ourselves in the Swords Empire, the ambitious secret dream of every swordman, a chromed-polished-blades orgy. Deadly instrument so gracious that could be mistaken with art masterpieces. We wandered around the shop, sometimes pointing a sword with a finger, sometimes pointing a Tanto balde and so on so forth. At this point a young clerk joined us. I think that it wasn’t much an attempt of selling us a blade, but more likely, it was just a way to spend some time in company. So, he started chatting with us.
He asked us if we wished to see some swords and in short he took off of a shelf a “Tourists Sword”. I grabbed it and he asked me if I could use a sword. I answered that I did some year of Aikido (in which I learnt almost nothing), and the basic use of the Bokken, the wooden sword, was part of the curriculum. When he heard the words “Aikido” and “Bokken” he brightened up. He took the “Tourist Sword” from my hand and placed it back at her place. Then he took a couple of new swords saying that these were among his “Better Swords”. I kept on praising his swords (which had scary prices to be a souvenir) and in the end, when he was flattered by my praising, he took a small key from his pocket and took one of his “Best Swords”. He said that it was in “Blue Steel” and he said that it was super-light as well as unbreakable. I grabbed it and I never felt something like that in a sword. It was light and very beautiful. At this point, still knowing that I could handle that sword quite well, and knowing that he just gave me a blade worth some thousand Euro, which had a razor-sharp edge, decided that being an Aikidoka I should follow the sacred path of the non-violence and I was worth to be trusted like a gentle and loyal Samurai. So, he bent on his knees to fasten his shoes. He had his bare neck just under my sword. He was lucky that I wasn’t neither a bad and dishonest man. When he stood up, I passed the sword to Lula that tried it a little. I didn’t confess him that he just had a near death experience… I don’t mean me holding the sword, but the fact that Lula was holding that weapon and didn’t know what to do with it. She could kill the Korean invading Army using a teapot and a skimmer, while thinking of being preparing a tea… Just a little later we left the shop with a long series of “Arigato” to this gentle clerk and his nice sword mate.
Types of Japanese Swords
All the info below were taken by a beautiful website. I'll post the link to the website at the bottom of the box. Japanese sword types are first categorized by the period in which they were made. Breaking it down into six main periods; The oldest being Jokoto (made up until 900 AD), followed by Koto (made between 900-1596), Shinto (1596-1780), Shinshinto (1781-1876), Gendaito (1876-1945), and Shinsakuto (1953 to modern day). The Tachi (Koto Period 70-80cm) Debuting long before the Katana, the tachi was the original staple sword of the samurai. Besides its slightly longer size being a clear indicator of its type, the tachi was also worn with the blade facing down. This method of wearing the sword was also preferred for other sword types where it is noted as “tachi style.” The placement of the signature on the tang of the blade (the base of the sword) is one of the other determining factors of the tachi; the markings are always found on the outer-facing side when worn. Although many historians note this sword as being suited for horse mounted combat, there is no documentation to prove it. The Katana (Late Koto Period 60-73cm) Although not commonly known, the katana actually evolved from the taichi style sword in the late 14th century. As fighting styles changed during this period, the katana began separating itself from its successor through the sheathing of its blade face up, also reversing the position of the sword’s signature. The wearing position of the katana through an obi (belt-like sash) as opposed to the slung taichi, also made it a more effective weapon which was easily drawn in a single motion. The katana styling gained its raise to fame through the pairing of a smaller sword in a setup called a daishou; the matching of a pair of swords that signified the samurai as a person of prestige and honor. During the Meiji Period of the 19th century, Japanese swordcraft, and the katana itself, greatly wained in popularity with the onset of westernization. As skilled craftsmen thinned out of their trade, the purity of the blades was lost giving birth to a generation of “showato” swords (those that were not created in the traditional manner). The Wakizashi (Late Koto Period 30-60cm) The wakizashi was broken down into two types. The larger version, closer in size to the katana, is the o-wakizashi while the shorter variant is called the ko-wakizashi. Its smaller size made it a versatile weapon in close combat, and was used traditionally to behead a defeated opponent or commit the act of ritual suicide. Originally, sword types such as the wakizashi were not necessarily distinguished by size. However, during the Edo Period of the 17th century, regulations brought about sword standards. It was following this that the sword got its name as a shortened version of “wakizashi no kataka,” or “the sword thrust to one side.” One of the unique points about this type of sword was that it could be worn by the class below samurai including merchants. The Tantou (Jokoto Period 15-30cm) The tantou is often considered the original tactical knife and came in both single- and double-edged versions. Often entrusted as a quick and reliable weapon, the short, flat blade evolved to become thick enough to pierce samurai armor, and discrete enough to function as a means of self-defense. The swords dexterity also found it used in combination with the traditional tachi on the battlefield in place of a katana or wakizashi. As the modernization of warfare quickly influenced the ancient art of Japanese weaponry, the tantou quickly evolved from the perfect, compact fighting tool, to a more ornate testament to craftsmanship. The Oudachi (Koto Period 165-178cm) As one might imagine, the “O” in Oudachi stands for great. This cumbersomely long sword was mostly used as a ceremonial offering and rarely saw combat in the practical sense. Although many argue that it was carried by calvary, the weight and balance of the sword served as a disadvantage in prolonged combat. As amazing as these swords are to behold, the process behind making them was tedious and expensive. As cooling and heating times proved difficult for such a large blade, warping of the steel was a common issue that resulted in a useless blade. Thus, these highly sought after pieces were often at home in shrines and showcases of the wealthy. The Nagamaki (Jokoto/Koto Period 60cm) Nagamaki literally translates “long wrap”; A characteristic that is the defining point of this Japanese sword with an uncommonly long handle. In its construction, the nagamaki is actually one of the less stringent in terms of specification for construction. Although the blade length often followed a similar pattern to the katana, the handle in which it was mounted was much cruder. Despite being less elegant in its finishings, the nagamaki proved its strength through its application of sheer force achieved through leverage. This method of use demanded a fixed holding position that was well suited for infantry, especially against horse-riding foes to be brought down to size. The Naginata (Koto Period 60cm not including staff) Although easily considered more of a spear than a sword, the naginata has long been one of the most iconic weapons of the Japanese samurai. During the 18th century, the naginata began to shift its focus from the battlefield and into a status symbol of the elite. Treated much like the Oudachi, this sword became an symbolic item of wealth and was often exchanged as a dowry for a samurai class daughter. Although ornate and beautiful in its construction, the naginata was a capable weapon that was suited for defensive combat. This made it an ideal weapon for women to master when defending their home during prolonged war in the samurai’s absence. Link to the original site (visit it!): http://www.axiommagazine.jp/2013/02/08/japan-101-japanese-samurai-sword-types/ |
Kamiyacho - Tokyo Tower
We followed Sakurada Dori again, and just behind a turn and following a side street going uphill on the left of the street, we found the Tokyo Tower. Perhaps Paris lovers will twist their mouths seeing this reddish replica of the Eiffel Tower, but this is Tokyo and questions of the reason of this copy aren’t allowed.
When we reached the base of the Tower we asked ourselves if it’d be worth to go up the Tower. In fact, in spite of the price, we were also afraid that the misty weather wouldn’t let us enjoy the sight from up there. After some evaluations, we decided to give it a chance and we went in.
To reach the top of the Tower you’ve to use some super-fast elevators that in just few second take you from the ground floor to the observatory. From the observatory we had a chance to enjoy a 360° sight on the whole city. The weather wasn’t so bad and we could still see much of Tokyo from there. To help us there were many posters showing the same sight that you have in front of you, but enriched with the names of the building and landmarks. Moreover, there are also some boards showing the direction of some far spots, like the one showing the direction of Mt. Fuji San. We wished to see the Mountain at least form far, but this weather didn’t let us to see so far. Perhaps we’ll visit it for real the next time.
When we reached the base of the Tower we asked ourselves if it’d be worth to go up the Tower. In fact, in spite of the price, we were also afraid that the misty weather wouldn’t let us enjoy the sight from up there. After some evaluations, we decided to give it a chance and we went in.
To reach the top of the Tower you’ve to use some super-fast elevators that in just few second take you from the ground floor to the observatory. From the observatory we had a chance to enjoy a 360° sight on the whole city. The weather wasn’t so bad and we could still see much of Tokyo from there. To help us there were many posters showing the same sight that you have in front of you, but enriched with the names of the building and landmarks. Moreover, there are also some boards showing the direction of some far spots, like the one showing the direction of Mt. Fuji San. We wished to see the Mountain at least form far, but this weather didn’t let us to see so far. Perhaps we’ll visit it for real the next time.
Kamiyacho, Roppongi and Asakusa
We got out of the Tower satisfied of our decision. We checked our maps and we decided to go and see the neighbourhood of Roppongi, the area with more hotels and tourist-oriented venues. Usually we aren't keen for the tourist-oriented-stuff, but we couldn't be in Tokyo and miss it. So, we took the Gaien Higashi Dori and soon we arrived there. Along the way we also passed by the austere black tombstone-like Tokyo Freemasonry Building. I wonder why these club members didn't build it in a more cheerful way... Perhaps there is some arcane-mystic-symbology behind of it. Not perhaps, sure that it's like that.
As we expected we didn't find Roppongi attractive. I'm sure that by night it could be a nice spot to spend a night into crowd of these clubs, bars and restaurants, among a mix of foreigners and Japanese people.
From Roppongi we went back to the area of Ginza-Shinbashi where we kept with our centre exploration. Along the way, in the area near the Tokyo Central Station, we found a Tourist Information Centre, placed at the first or second floor of a building. A nice lady welcomed us and answered to our questions. In particular we asked for a place where we could attend a true Japanese Tea Ceremony. She fumbled some mixed answer and in the end she said that we should go to a certain number of hotels where they had nice Tea Houses. We weren't looking for tea houses for tourists, but something more genuine. So, we left the place and we decided to check the next day in Nikko or the following again in Kyoto.
Before leaving for Japan we searched on Internet for some old documentaries that were broadcasted many years ago on the Italian TV. They were of the series “Turisti per Caso” and among many others there were few about Japan. Among the many interesting things, one was unusual. In fact, the host, while in Tokyo, went to have a dinner in a Snakes Restaurant. I already met snakes on my table, but I wanted to make Lula try one, so we decided to go and try this restaurant.
On the way back from Ginza we took a train to Ueno where should be this resturant, but, unluckily, we found that it had the shutters closed down. We didn’t know if the owner was just on holidays or it was closed for good. Perhaps for some snake we should go back to Laos or maybe China or Hong Kong.
We were in Ueno and we could pick one of two options. The first was to take another ride on the (very) expensive Tokyo metro while the second would be to walk the way to Asakusa. A straight street would take us just nearby the Senso-Ji Temple. Thinking about the huge sum of money that we already spent in metro tickets, we picked the second option.
Along the way that was across a very nice residential neighbourhood, I had an idea. I was a little ashamed of the bullshit that I bought for my dad that same morning. Knowing that my dad loves to collect knives, I regretted of not having bought a knife at the swords shop. So, I asked to Lula to take a side street near the Senso-Ji Temple and I entered a market. Here I found what I was looking for. There was a small knives shop and I bought my dad a small typical everyday-use knife called Higonokami. So, I could match it with the bandana. This time Lula said that I had a good idea. By good luck.
It was already night. The day passed so fast that I felt like we just left the hotel in the morning few hours before. Along the way back to the hotel we decided to stop at a restaurant that we seen the evenings before and looked promising. At the both sides of the door it had many typical Japanese banner flags and red lanterns.
Once inside Mr. Waiter called Miss. Yukata Wearing Waitress and asked her to lead us to some vacant seats. We had to leave our shoes in the entrance and the restaurant was on a wooden higher floor. Here there were many long and very low tables, and we had to sit on some cushions on the floor. The restaurant was crowded, this was a clue that it should be a good place to eat. Most of the people were men that were looking like herds of noisy employees. All were dressed in the same way. All with a white shirt, black trousers and some were still wearing their badge. I wonder if they even went to sleep with their badge...
The menu was quite short and we decided to stick with the house special dish. We ordered two of them, Lula took a Macha Tea and I took water. The smiling yukata-wearing waitress took our ordination and in a few minutes she came back. In the beginning I was surprised for the speed of their chef “that chef is supersonic!”, but the truth was that, simply, the chef didn't cook for me. The supersonic guy just placed the ingredients for the “special dish” on a tray and they brought me the raw ingredients. I had to cook them by myself. Another yukata-wearing waitress brought us a cast iron oven with inside some coal and a sort of dish over. On the dish there were some small fish that looked like tiny anchovies, while on the tray there were chopped leeks and a pitcher of “secret sauce”. The girls told me that I should cook the fish on the oven (what a surprise!), add as many leeks as I wished (incredible that they let me such a freedom... I wonder if they gave me extra leeks for having shown my cute smile...) and I should add the “secret sauce”, but just a bit, then I should taste if I liked it and then, only if I liked it, I should be beware of this detail as they repeated it five or six times in a sentence of three words, I could add some more (I was tempted to stick a chopstick in the bottle, spin it around a few times, and taste it in that way, but I just followed the instructions).
I've heard about this kind of restaurants before leaving for Japan and I should say that, in spite the surprise of finding myself to cook my food, it had been a very nice and funny experience.
I started cooking but, as soon as I started, I had a Deja-Vu. I found myself inside the movie “Lost in Translation”, when Bill Murray had the same experience but cooking meat.
I became Bob (Bill Murray) and I started cooking using the chopsticks. Charlotte (Scarlett Yohansson), that was Lula, was my helper with the role of tasting the food along this exotic cooking process. In the meanwhile Lula was laughing like a crazy and she tried to mask herself as a Japanese housewife wearing a towel on her head. And we didn't touch any Sake yet. In those moments, native people were looking at me surprised that I was cooking the local food, using chopsticks, without throwing fish in the tea cups of the people nearby or taking some waiter eye with my flying chopsticks.
When is a matter of food, there is no challenge I give up. Except for the Plum Tajine, that is my culinary nemesis, but this is a whole different story.
While I was cooking arrived in the restaurant another couple of Italians and the restaurant staff took them to sit next to us. They were Mr. Boxer-Pants-Wearer and she was Miss Granma-Duck-Night-Gown-Wearer that we seen the previous night during the Earthquake. We recognize them at once, but they only reminded of us from the moment that we arrived in the hotel hall... Perhaps our Yukata camouflage worked well that night. They introduced themselves and we spent the night talking with this funny guys. The object of our chats were the Earthquake and this incredible Tokyo. I felt that, while in the beginning I felt myself into an impenetrable world and culture, after few days I was starting to understand Japanese people and the most time I was spending there, the most I was liking them. What in the beginning looked like foolish, it was starting to make sense to me. Everything, with the exception of that “straight and to the left” Japanese obsession of giving wrong directions.
The dinner had been fantastic. The fish was spectacular. As a desert we took a Macha-Tea Ice Cream, some Melon and a glass of cold Sake.
After dinner we went back to the hotel. We were looking forward for a nice night of sleeping and the following day we'd explore another beautiful part of Japan.
As we expected we didn't find Roppongi attractive. I'm sure that by night it could be a nice spot to spend a night into crowd of these clubs, bars and restaurants, among a mix of foreigners and Japanese people.
From Roppongi we went back to the area of Ginza-Shinbashi where we kept with our centre exploration. Along the way, in the area near the Tokyo Central Station, we found a Tourist Information Centre, placed at the first or second floor of a building. A nice lady welcomed us and answered to our questions. In particular we asked for a place where we could attend a true Japanese Tea Ceremony. She fumbled some mixed answer and in the end she said that we should go to a certain number of hotels where they had nice Tea Houses. We weren't looking for tea houses for tourists, but something more genuine. So, we left the place and we decided to check the next day in Nikko or the following again in Kyoto.
Before leaving for Japan we searched on Internet for some old documentaries that were broadcasted many years ago on the Italian TV. They were of the series “Turisti per Caso” and among many others there were few about Japan. Among the many interesting things, one was unusual. In fact, the host, while in Tokyo, went to have a dinner in a Snakes Restaurant. I already met snakes on my table, but I wanted to make Lula try one, so we decided to go and try this restaurant.
On the way back from Ginza we took a train to Ueno where should be this resturant, but, unluckily, we found that it had the shutters closed down. We didn’t know if the owner was just on holidays or it was closed for good. Perhaps for some snake we should go back to Laos or maybe China or Hong Kong.
We were in Ueno and we could pick one of two options. The first was to take another ride on the (very) expensive Tokyo metro while the second would be to walk the way to Asakusa. A straight street would take us just nearby the Senso-Ji Temple. Thinking about the huge sum of money that we already spent in metro tickets, we picked the second option.
Along the way that was across a very nice residential neighbourhood, I had an idea. I was a little ashamed of the bullshit that I bought for my dad that same morning. Knowing that my dad loves to collect knives, I regretted of not having bought a knife at the swords shop. So, I asked to Lula to take a side street near the Senso-Ji Temple and I entered a market. Here I found what I was looking for. There was a small knives shop and I bought my dad a small typical everyday-use knife called Higonokami. So, I could match it with the bandana. This time Lula said that I had a good idea. By good luck.
It was already night. The day passed so fast that I felt like we just left the hotel in the morning few hours before. Along the way back to the hotel we decided to stop at a restaurant that we seen the evenings before and looked promising. At the both sides of the door it had many typical Japanese banner flags and red lanterns.
Once inside Mr. Waiter called Miss. Yukata Wearing Waitress and asked her to lead us to some vacant seats. We had to leave our shoes in the entrance and the restaurant was on a wooden higher floor. Here there were many long and very low tables, and we had to sit on some cushions on the floor. The restaurant was crowded, this was a clue that it should be a good place to eat. Most of the people were men that were looking like herds of noisy employees. All were dressed in the same way. All with a white shirt, black trousers and some were still wearing their badge. I wonder if they even went to sleep with their badge...
The menu was quite short and we decided to stick with the house special dish. We ordered two of them, Lula took a Macha Tea and I took water. The smiling yukata-wearing waitress took our ordination and in a few minutes she came back. In the beginning I was surprised for the speed of their chef “that chef is supersonic!”, but the truth was that, simply, the chef didn't cook for me. The supersonic guy just placed the ingredients for the “special dish” on a tray and they brought me the raw ingredients. I had to cook them by myself. Another yukata-wearing waitress brought us a cast iron oven with inside some coal and a sort of dish over. On the dish there were some small fish that looked like tiny anchovies, while on the tray there were chopped leeks and a pitcher of “secret sauce”. The girls told me that I should cook the fish on the oven (what a surprise!), add as many leeks as I wished (incredible that they let me such a freedom... I wonder if they gave me extra leeks for having shown my cute smile...) and I should add the “secret sauce”, but just a bit, then I should taste if I liked it and then, only if I liked it, I should be beware of this detail as they repeated it five or six times in a sentence of three words, I could add some more (I was tempted to stick a chopstick in the bottle, spin it around a few times, and taste it in that way, but I just followed the instructions).
I've heard about this kind of restaurants before leaving for Japan and I should say that, in spite the surprise of finding myself to cook my food, it had been a very nice and funny experience.
I started cooking but, as soon as I started, I had a Deja-Vu. I found myself inside the movie “Lost in Translation”, when Bill Murray had the same experience but cooking meat.
I became Bob (Bill Murray) and I started cooking using the chopsticks. Charlotte (Scarlett Yohansson), that was Lula, was my helper with the role of tasting the food along this exotic cooking process. In the meanwhile Lula was laughing like a crazy and she tried to mask herself as a Japanese housewife wearing a towel on her head. And we didn't touch any Sake yet. In those moments, native people were looking at me surprised that I was cooking the local food, using chopsticks, without throwing fish in the tea cups of the people nearby or taking some waiter eye with my flying chopsticks.
When is a matter of food, there is no challenge I give up. Except for the Plum Tajine, that is my culinary nemesis, but this is a whole different story.
While I was cooking arrived in the restaurant another couple of Italians and the restaurant staff took them to sit next to us. They were Mr. Boxer-Pants-Wearer and she was Miss Granma-Duck-Night-Gown-Wearer that we seen the previous night during the Earthquake. We recognize them at once, but they only reminded of us from the moment that we arrived in the hotel hall... Perhaps our Yukata camouflage worked well that night. They introduced themselves and we spent the night talking with this funny guys. The object of our chats were the Earthquake and this incredible Tokyo. I felt that, while in the beginning I felt myself into an impenetrable world and culture, after few days I was starting to understand Japanese people and the most time I was spending there, the most I was liking them. What in the beginning looked like foolish, it was starting to make sense to me. Everything, with the exception of that “straight and to the left” Japanese obsession of giving wrong directions.
The dinner had been fantastic. The fish was spectacular. As a desert we took a Macha-Tea Ice Cream, some Melon and a glass of cold Sake.
After dinner we went back to the hotel. We were looking forward for a nice night of sleeping and the following day we'd explore another beautiful part of Japan.