D-Day
Going to Sydney was nothing. I have done it plenty of times before. Shit was suddenly real. I was going to Tokyo!
I have a serious dilemma in regard to my digital SLR camera. I hadn’t really planned on using it all that much, because I was taking two other cameras. And it weighs alot. And it has lenses. And chargers. And chords… I leave it with Conor and my pack and conscious rest at ease.
In typical circumstances, my earphones die in the taxi on the way to the airport. I replace them and get a cheeseburger stunner deal, which is far from stunning. The flight was pretty gnarly. Eight hours in all. I tried to watch a few movies and ended up crashing out for about half of the trip. Both the passengers beside me have face masks on, which leads me to think that I smell bad. We land at Tokyo Narita Airport and it is brutally cold. I am talking five degrees. The fact that it is raining does not help.
I manage to get through customs with only a few head nods and then I board the local train into inner Tokyo. Not realising that there are expresses etc, I find myself on the one that stops at every station, meaning to get to my destination of Asakusa, it takes about two hours. I am pooped by this stage and freezing my balls off, walking around in the rain for an internet café soon loses its novelty and I retire into the local starbucks to scab their internet – which fails. I stop at MisterDonut, where I figure they may have Wi-Fi. Donut heaven, Wireless hell. Fuck. This is gnarly.
I end up climbing up four flights of stairs on a hunch that there was an internet café. Well, I was right but by judging on the amount of porn that was in that place, people use the term ‘internet café’ loosely. The dude tells me that they are full, so I leg it a few blocks and finally get on the internet at another café. I am sick of the internet by this stage.
It turns out that the capsule hotel is right next to where I started, in fact it is exactly forty metres from the train station that I got off at. I go to check in but I am way early. So I leave my bags and go wandering around Asasuka for a few hours to kill the time. I see a few traditional things including a temple, some old shops and a garden. I participate in washing and purifying ritual involving my hands in this statue. Pretty rad. Another Japanese tourist saw me do it and asked if I could photograph her doing the same. I did, but she looked retardo. I pointed out a face that she did in the photo and she thought I was asking for money! Jeez Louise.
Anyways, I end up walking back to the hotel and getting a bowl of hot soba noodles to warm me up. A bit of soy and chilli and it is amazing! Not bad for 220Y.
I am still early for check in so I end up falling asleep on the commonroom couch. Before my kip, I met an American guy named Sam who is a DIEHARD photographer aka shithead. He goes on and on about staking out spots, ‘that perfect light’ and other random shit, mostly about his tripod. I think he helped me zonk out and sleep.
After waking up I go for another walk around Asakusa, this time with neon lights. I search the back alleys in the guise for a place to eat. I end up getting pork cutlet and rice and udon.
After getting to the shower level at the hotel, I come across a cultural roadblock. It is one big room. There is a hot bath or onsen. There are shower heads and buckets, and a sauna off to the side. It is weird. I go about my business and then head to my capsule, where I indulge in an asahi can that I purchased out of a vending machine in the bathroom.
The capsule itself is awesome. Like a tiny tiny apartment, it has tv, a radio and a light. It also has room for a few loose items and then a cloth type blind to the roll down for sleepytimes. I am thoroughly impressed.
It is a good nights sleep.
