Welcome to Japan! (28/Jan/2006)
Here I am, after quite a lot of work to make this trip happen, and coming sooner than expected, I am visiting the Tokyo office for a week. Well, it's a lot like people say it is, and we often forget how much we know about Japan, how much we've been exposed to its most original and fun sides, and many of its stereotypes.

Noodle network (28/Jan/2006)
It almost look like colourful noodles spilled on top of a map of Tokyo: the network of train and subway lines. There are Japan Rail trains and all sorts of other private lines, then there's Tokyo metro and the Toei metro lines, forming the subway. There are all sorts of possible combinations and tickets and conditions, and, although the lines are colour-coded and the stations numbered, it's not easy at all to figure out what ticket to get or where to go in the beginning.

Somehow though, I pretty much got the hang of it, and got myself off in the correct direction, looking at the few stations as I passed by, and getting off correctly. The massive Tokyo station did not seem too impressive, but it's the one with the biggest commuting in the world. Got me to where I needed to go, and then outside, everything was also so quiet. Dark and a bit drizzly for a Saturday night, "avenue" looking like a small street, but my printed Japanese map got me to the small business hotel where I'm staying for a week.

Dormy Inn (28/Jan/2006)
So here are my basic 10 square meters. Japan's known to be pretty expensive for accommodation, but 70US$ equivalent is reasonable, even if it doesn't get me much space. Everything's designed pretty well to make use of space, but when you want to put something somewhere, you think a bit and usually have to move something else, so I started by removing all the unnecessary items. Then came the discovery of the toilet and showers!

Click on the photo on the left and check the next one: the toilets are a pretty sophisticated piece of equipment. There's all sorts of heating, automated water, bidet, etc... I'm told that in Japanese embassies, they actually train local staff on how to use them! Well, amusing enough. The rest feels like being on a boat: compact but practical.

Shinjuku (28/Jan/2006)
Supposedly one of the liveliest and most colourful parts of nocturnal Tokyo, Shinjuku had to be a place for me to see with just a bit of time ahead of me before the metro closes around midnight. The station is quite a massive one, so it took me a while to find the right direction to the main Yasukuni-dori Avenue.

Ah, there they are: the big flashing neon lights, the hordes of people, the extravagant outfits (short skirts with high black boots, all sorts of hair styles, colourful fur coats, etc...). Sound coming at you, traffic, crowds. That's where they were all hiding. I walk around in search of a recommended seafood restaurant, and discover all sorts of shops, the variety of food places, and, always, the Japanese themselves.

First meal: tempula (28/Jan/2006)
OK, I'm exaggerating... They don't exactly say "tempula" instead of "tempura", and anyway it's their word, but the Japanese are known for pronouncing "r" as "l". Anyway, nice meal, and it's always nice to order local food in a foreign country without understanding any word except their loud welcoming and greetings.

Wasabi (29/Jan/2006)
It's getting increasingly famous, which doesn't mean it doesn't taste as good or fails to get to your nostrils at times. I realised they don't serve it wish sushi to add in the soy sauce like for sashimi, since there's actually already wasabi under the fish of course, but I guess I got used to having a sauce loaded with wasabi, since i) I like it and ii) it's cool to be able to do things like it's the real thing and you have a clue about it, like a few years' back when you had to repeat the word wa-sa-bi to people and explain and watch them try it.

So having found the even more genuine thing, i.e. not putting wasabi in soy sauce for sushi and rolls (basically anything where it's already in there), what do I do? Let my habits stay like this, or move to the real thing, even if I can't avoid being self-conscious about the irony of me trying to be more real than the real thing. Guess I try to do in Rome as the Romans do, so I've ended up not ever asking for wasabi, and just trying to adjust my palate!

Dinner encounters (30/Jan/2006)
So I went looking around for a restaurant, but so many places have menus only in Japanese, and when they have pictures it's because it's pretty basic food, such as soups with tons of things inside.

After passing by quite a few places on the main road, I turned into a road leading close to my hotel, only to find Western or Chinese places. Off into a small road going through the neighbourhood, I found more small places, but wasn't too tempted by the sorts of fairly simple food either, until eventually finding a somewhat hidden and cosy sushi place.

Inside, you can sit at the bar in front of the chef's counter, or on pillows on the floor with a very low table, where there's just two tables, so space for two groups of 4-5 people. Three men were there already, smoking and sharing pretty good looking sushi.

Not far from me at the bar, there's a fat Japanese talking to the chef, as I start browsing through the pictures on the menu, and eventually point to the items I'm looking for. Funny how Japanese insist on confirming a lot of things to me, although it's pretty obvious I don't have a clue about their language. The chef gets the order from the waiter and points something out to me - I understand roughly that one item is no longer available, but he gets the point that I just trust him.

So I just sit there, the fat guy watching some American reality crime show, where there's an inset coverage by a panel of Japanese TV hosts and guests, who look like they're really interested in what's going on. I don't really understand what the show's all about, and it's probably better that way. Meanwhile, the chef is busy getting the fresh fish pieces out, carving out slin thices and putting them on rice vinegar balls with wasabi (green mustard).

Then the guy next to me starts breathing heavily after drinking his tea, so I gave him some odd looks, until I eventually get my readily made sushi on a wooden platter. Pretty nice, so, as I've done with each meal, I get my camera out for a shot, and then wait a bit to get the funny chef in the picture.

Then comes the eating... Pretty nice, sea urchin and salmon egg (both are some of my favourite ingredients) sitting on some rice binded by dried seaweed (yum!), tuna and fatty tuna (twice as precious), mackerel, omelette, and a few other fish sushi. I also have my green tea, which happens to me far better here than in other countries, to the point I sometimes swallow down my whole cup, except when it's really too hot.

The food goes with the soy sauce, and I eat some marinated ginger between the pieces so as to clear my taste buds. Pretty nice, I'm full quite quickly, and start looking at what a new customer is eating. I watch the chef prepare a nice roll for him, until I realise that's for me... and so I force myself to finish it.

When comes the time to pay up, the chef asks me where I'm from, well, I more or less hear "country", so I answer "France" and it seems to be the answer to his question. So the other guy starts asking me tons of questions, pulls a chair next to me to get me to sit down, and off we go in exchanging life stories of what we're up to in Tokyo. He's a middle-aged Tokyoite with salt and pepper hair, speaks pretty good English, and is certainly keen to talk. I'd noticed the bottle of sake and the beer, but he's sober enough I guess, and bombards me with questions. He also gives me his name card and says I can call him in case I ever need help. After trying to leave a few times, I manage to say goodbye, and speak out a "funny, but sticky guy", as I walk out, happy to have made these encounters, but also that I didn't need to stick around forever talking about cameras and all sorts of things. I eat my mandarine, kindly given to me by the chef as I was leaving, and get back to my hotel in the quiet streets of some anonymous part of the megalopolis.

Earthquakes and rain (31/Jan/2006)
So it seems that outside the June rain season, it hardly ever rains 2 days in a row. Tough luck for me, it's pouring today. Well, raining, not a quite tropical downpour. They have tons of things for rain here, starting with the umbrella of course, I mean. There's a place to put the umbrella before many buildings, and even a safelock key beneath the handle, in places like the museum. There are also vending machines, not a surprise, where a long plastic umbrella costs some 4US$ equivalent. There are even some special places to shake the umbrella from the water before entering the building, as in my office. And of course, in offices and restaurants, everyone leaves their umbrella at the entrance.

Earthquakes now... That's a whole different story. Notice in the lift today a sign saying "Do not use in case of fire or earthquake". Hum... I wonder.

I was told in the office yesterday that we had just felt an earthquake. I hardly noticed, probably thinking it was the subway or something. There are thousands a year in Japan, though very few actually cause damage. Well, it's still my first earthquake I guess!

7 eleven (01/Feb/2006)
I admit, it sucks! I've given in to the capitalists, to the Westerners, to the imported... Well, not quite, actually, as most of the food is Japanese, and there's not a lot of English words to help. So I chose this wrap just by the label colour (purple), and then some other take-away boxes: one in nice wood, with salmon, rice and salmon eggs, then some sushi. The guy at the till kept on speaking, and I wasn't sure if he was asking questions or naming the items, but I just said yes yes with gestures, and made a scissor movement to ask for chopsticks as I'd seen that was one of the questions to the couple before. Just to pretend I know what he's saying!

So the food's actually quite nice! The purple labelled wrap is seaweed-wrapped rice, with shrimp eggs in the middle. Somehow, I knew purple would land me seafood, so that's just great. I have a Tropicana carrot juice of some sort, as it tastes like essentially carrot juice but has tons of other fruits on the cover, and, of course, it's loaded in Japanese characters.

Actually, I just realised the box was not wooden, but plastic with a wooden-style design. Foolish me. Worked well, but anyway, most importantly the food was nice. Only things is pastry desserts in Asia are quite bland to Western palates, so I had this chocolate-coated cake of sorts, which is actually some sort of puffy bread with chocolate on top. Not great, but edible enough I guess. Overall, I give this a note of seven out of... eleven ;-)

Chopsticks (01/Feb/2006)
The ubiquitous tools for Asian food, of course. They're everywhere, and Japan uses 2.4 billion pairs a year or something. Just checked, it's actually 24 billion... (I never want to exagerate, so this was a gross understatement of mine!). So yeah, lots. Another stat: 70kg of rice per person per year. How many Japanese? 127 million. I let you work it out. And that's before cooking it.

Anyway, on this picture, I'm doing something pretty bad, as sticking the chopsticks in rice like this is a bad omen: this is how they're presented to dead people for offerings. Hum, funny all those things you know but just need a guide book to remind you. This set of chopsticks even came with a toothpick.

In the opposite corner is a charming hot pool surrounded by wooden planks, there is a small waterfall and plenty of bamboo and plant decorations. The air is heavy and moist, but quite enjoyable. To the side are separated shower areas where one can sit down in front of the mirror to shave and wash under a shower jet. There's also a sauna. I get into the bath where a still Japanese guy is down to his neck in the water, crossing his arms with a folded towel on his head. He doesn't budge - everyone's careful to respect the other's privacy, especially as we're all tired from a long working day, and, well, of course, naked. I'm not sure to which extent that bothers them, but some are obviously more discrete than others. Anyway, it's very relaxing, and not too hot after a while. I next try the sauna, with its typical effect of stinging the nose and breathing apparatus. Looks like it's 80 degrees Celsius. I hardly move, but don't seem to sweat too much either. I wrap up with a shower, sitting on a wooden stool 30 centimeters from the ground. Pretty well thought of, and certainly far better than the cramped up shower in my room!