Wandering the Streets of Tokyo

Part of Four Days in London: A memoir about trying to find a way to the Olympics, and finding something else instead. This set of stories take place in late January and continued until March 2010.

“I walk the streets of Japan Till I get lost Cause it doesn’t remind of anything” Doesn’t Remind Me by Audioslave

I spent just over six weeks in Japan, and every single one of those weekends I spent not in Tsukuba. This was, number one, because my roommate Sawano deserved to have his room back. I was after all staying rent free in his bed and smelled like overly ripe fruit half the time. I would stay for four nights, and immediately leave for Tokyo after the Friday night practice. Friday practice would get out around around 8, so I would normally be in Tokyo by 9:30 at the latest. Just in time to get myself settled at a hostel or hotel. I had meant to see much more of the country itself, but enjoyed exploring Tokyo so much I only traveled else where a few times. As such what follows is a combination photo essay and series of short stories and anecdotes that aren’t long enough to justify chapters in and of themselves.

An Ode to Hostels

I had never really given hostels much thought before this trip. I had never stayed in one and hadn’t really considered them an option. After staying a few weekends in a hotel and not being able to cook or store food during the week, things were getting too expensive.

My favorite hostel to stay was Sakura hostel. It was in the center of Tokyo near the Imperial Palace. It was also cheap and had many different international visitors. I got to meet people from all over the world. It was also different from many of the hostels I would stay in later. It attracted a diverse crowd age wise. I met an old retired member of the Norwegian air force who had been elite volleyball player in his youth. I saw a spat between two groups of people from Mexico over soccer teams (one was from Mexico city and the other not). Since all these people were in town investigating Tokyo, you could find yourself on a tourist adventure with a new group of people in moments just like that!

One evening a woman, Amy, stopped me in the hallway. We had chatted briefly earlier.

“Hey I heard about this place that will do a big multi-course dinner for 4000 yen! Want to go?”

What followed was one of the most epic meals I’ve ever consumed.

Thank you to Amy for providing the photos. We connected years later on social media after she found me on LinkedIn.

A lot of traveling on your own is isolating. A weekend at a hostel gave me a chance to break that feeling up. Well travelers may feel the desire to stay in hotels, for what its worth I am a firm advocate of staying in hostels while you’re young. They are cheap, and you might get a good meal.

Walking through the Imperial Palace

Pickpocket

Japan is arguably the safest industrialized country in the world. That does not mean crime doesn’t happen however. Once I walked into a bar and once I get into the crowd a man in sunglasses immediately reached his hand into my jacket. He was directly in front of me. My wallet, which included my passport, had a strap that connected it to my entire body. I felt him pull once and he let go. My hands went to grab him and he slipped away. I didn’t see him again. I went to the bathroom to check my stuff and found nothing was missing.

— — —

Odaiba Island

As I walked out of the small sushi place I took a left to face the Sumida river. I walked down and quickly got on a tour boat. The boat was going to provide a guided tour of Tokyo from the river before ending at Odaiba Island. I didn’t spend much time on Odaiba island. Odaiba island is a man made island in Tokyo bay just outside of the mouth of the Sumida river. It’s home to life sized Gundam statue and several touristy areas.

I stepped onto the island without any idea of what I was actually going to do. I opened my guidebook and saw there honestly wasn’t much for a late Sunday afternoon. There was however a spa. After weeks of hard training, I was exhausted. I thought it might be worth it to get a massage and do something relaxing.

After donning a robe, I promptly enjoyed a large onsen before getting a lengthy massage. My body was so beaten down that honestly the massage was fairly uncomfortable initially. To the credit of the massage therapist, the next day I felt much more comfortable. That was with a single exception.

The spa had this really thing I had only seen in travel shows. They had a pool full of fish who would eat dead skin. I thought that this was really cool and immediately jumped at the opportunity. I stood by the pool for ten minutes waiting for a space to open up. I noticed that when a new person would put their feet in, all of the fish would quickly investigate the status of their feet. After a moment most of the fish would return to the feet they were previously servicing.

When I put my feet in, it felt like all the fish rushed to me and just stayed there. In case you’re wondering, the sensation felt like someone was lightly tickling my feet. The fish stayed at my feet long enough to start to feel awkward, and one American tourist made a snide a remark. After about ten minutes in the pool, I pulled my feet out and was amazed at how clean they looked.

The next day at practice, I realized I had made a terrible mistake. Years of judo practice had created callouses around my feet to protect against mat burn. These callouses made for a great meal for those fish. It took me about a week to start to build them back up enough that the mat burn would stop. Worth it.

Nerding out in Japan

My best childhood friend Billy had given me a copy of “If Chins Could Kill” the autobiography of Bruce Campbell. I took it with me and finally read it while on the trip. The day I finished it was on a friday, and thus when I made my weekly trip to Tokyo.

That evening I stopped by a bar called Wall Street. It violated my rule about not attending bars with Nigerian bouncers, but the place had a good reputation. I didn’t actually want to be out that late and this place was relatively relaxed. As I sat down I noticed Ash vs. The Evil Dead was on television. It was in English with Japanese subtitles. It was near the beginning of the movie. I stayed through to the end of the movie, having a beer and chatting with the English speaking Japanese bartender who also liked the movie. The serendipity was not lost on me.

Walking through Asakusa

A man runs into a bar

After walking out of a bar I heard a disturbance. The bar I was leaving was on the second floor of a building and next to a large alley way with a dead end. There was really only one way back to the main drag of the street, but the space was small enough you could hear anything going on immediately by the steps. I look up to see a man with a woman’s hand bag rushing down the steps.

Standing in the only path out and a few drinks into my evening, I figured it would be best if I stayed put. Inevitably the would be purse snatcher would have to run by me to get away and I could stop him. Instead of breaking straight towards the exist the idiot takes a left down an alley way. Behind him are several people I assumed were bouncers. When the thief made the inevitable u-turn at the end of the alleyway I witnessed what might have been one of the greatest examples of group think ever.

The bouncers followed him in a line. They followed him the same way ducklings follow a mother duck. The alley way, while some what large by alley standards, isn’t narrow enough that someone couldn’t have cut him off. Not one person broke from the line and instead they continued to follow the thief.

I quickly recovered from the bizarre sight as the man began running towards me. He was running along the side of the road now with security hot on his heels. As I felt myself tensing up, preparing to scream kaio-ken and catch this guy, I noticed something. In a direct line between he and I was a metal pole. Logic would dictate, when presented with a metal pole while sprinting all out to escape with a stolen purse, that one would go around the metal pole. The thief, in his likely drunken state, did not have access to those logic circuits this evening. He ran face first into the metal pole.

My jaw dropped. Security immediately reached him and beat the snot out of him. He gave up the purse without a fight. The crowd who had watched the scene unfold quickly dispersed afterwards. Upon the conclusion of this street justice, the man got up and dusted himself off. He walked over to a vending machine near where I where I stood; still struck by the absurdity I had just witnessed. He bought himself a drink and walked off. I stared into nothing for a few moments, contemplated our limited time on this planet, and thought maybe bouncing might be a fun summer job.

As a side note: this is a great article on vending machines in Japan.

— — —

Ryokan Shigetsu

I tended to stay in one of two places when in Tokyo. One was the Sakura Hostel, which was right in the center. It was almost always a safe bet to have a bed and it let me meet people. Shortly after the lunacy described from my attempts to enjoy the night life, I switched to staying here most of the time.

The other was the Ryokan Shigetsu. The Ryokan Shigetsu is my favorite hotel in Japan. The service is nice, and it was just a genuinely wonderful place to stay. I would recommend it to just about anyone with the caveat it is more expensive than a hostel. It did however have one notable flaw. Late at night the front desk would close down. For most people this really wasn’t an issue. For me one late Saturday night, early Sunday evening, it became one.

I woke up in the middle of the night and couldn’t get back to sleep. I also felt an overwhelming need to eat. Neither of these things are far outside of normal for me. Insomnia and I are dear friends and four to five hours of physical training a day will make you hungry. I knew there was a 24 hour McDonalds (pdown the street. I put on my clothes and went out to get a quick bite.

I come back to discover I don’t have my room key. I have at that moment what seems to be an ingenious idea. I was on the top floor of the building and each room had a patio. The patios were blocked off by walls. The walls were maybe seven feet high. At six feet, this meant they were tall enough that I could scale them.

Right next to my room was the spa room which was open at all hours. In it was a hot tub and a patio space. As I began to climb the wall I made the mistake of looking to the side. A potential newspaper article flashed in my brain “Idiot American falls five stories to his death in Asakusa!”. I placed my feet firmly back on the ground and spent the rest of the night on the couch in the lobby.

I walked out of the hotel to shuffle about near day break. I didn’t want to hop the language barrier to explain why I was sleeping on the couch to a drowsy hotel attendant just starting their day. When I came back the attendant was waiting and I grabbed a key and hit the hay. I thankfully had the hotel room for another night.

Later on after resting up and sightseeing, I opened up my laptop. My mother and I had planned to chat. After some initial back and forth she got to the point. “Your grandfather is going to need surgery.” I heard as I sat on a tatami floor. I knew once those words were uttered that I had to cut my trip short.