Tokyo: Day 1

Two Mondays ago was a national holiday known as "Coming of Age Day." All twenty-year-olds were supposed to celebrate the transition into adulthood. I've apparently been an adult for almost five years now without even knowing it, so I went into Tokyo for the weekend to find out what grownups do.

First stop was the Tsukijishijo fish market where you can get the rawest of raw fish since it's pulled right out of the water each morning. Many adults get there early enough to sample the fresh catch (before 7 a.m.), but Dave, Charlotte, and I arrived around 4 p.m.

We snaked down an alley to find men and women peddling their sushi wares. And since sushi pretty much all looks the same on paper (or blown-up poster), we walked into the first restaurant on our right.

In hindsight I regret the experience, as I'll never be able to eat other sushi again. It was that good. The seared albacore was a prize; its blowtorched body melted like butter.

After sushi, the three of us met Amy from college in Ginza. We went to the Sony Showroom, about six floors of the newest Sony gear all there for public handling. They had two new products I had recently read about: the Rolly, an mp3 player shaped like a small football that lights up and dances based on the tune. It's the perfect $400 party favor that will surely disappear shortly after its debut! You increase or decrease the volume by spinning the device clockwise and counterclockwise, and you skip tracks by pushing the Rolly forward or backward. It shook its "hips" during "Livin' La Vida Loca."

"Look, Amy! It's a Ricky Martin robot! Remember Ricky Martin? He's back... in robot form."

The other fancy item was the newest in TV technology. Not that this means anything to anyone, but apparently the best TVs now have a 20,000:1 contrast ratio. This little badboy has a 1,000,000:1 ratio. It made real life look like VHS. Too bad the largest screen they can make right now is 11 inches, and that guy will cost you $2000.

On our search for dinner, we wandered down an alley of aroma in Roppongi. A man attempted to lure us into his restaurant with promises of a warm place to stay and relax. He KEPT saying how warm it was and how relaxing it would be, so I began the question the validity of the statement. I pictured a place with no heat where we would be under a lot of pressure for some reason.

We walked away from this man only to come across two signs offering intriguing options. One sign had a Jack-o-lantern picture and the words "Horror Dining" in spooky lettering. I'd heard of ninja restaurants and prisoner restaurants, but never a horror restaurant. Do you eat scary food? Or are you frightened while eating regular food? The second sign read "Fetish Bar" and had two pixie-ish creatures surrounding the words. Chotto matte kudasai! How did you know that my favorite thing to do is walk away from a man offering a warm place to eat and relax with exactly three friends before looking at two strange signs and then drinking at a bar surrounded by exactly two women who resemble faeries? I love doing that. And do you like red herring? Because we didn't go into either of those places.

Instead, we had Thai food on the 13th floor of a building. Amy, who had recently returned from a month stay in Thailand, attested to the authenticity, and I, who enjoy eating, attested to the deliciousness of the chicken curry. The bathroom wall was a full pane of glass, so people could see right in there if they so desired. Was the fetish bar across the street looking in?

Anyway, here is where we slept. It's a capsule hostel.



Stay tuned for write-ups of day 2 and 3. The third day may or may not include this.