Off to Osaka

It was nearly Christmas.  The year was coming to an end and Veronica and I both had some unused leave.  We didn't want to waste it so we quickly booked a trip.  Searching online for reasonably priced flights and hotels, we found an unexpected location.  Osaka.

Our trip earlier in the year to Bangkok had been decided not only by our desire to go to Thailand, but also as much by the outrageous cost of flights to Japan.  To see the flight prices now at a fraction of what they had previously been at was all the motivation we needed to immediately book.

  

Being back in a plane so soon after our last trip was a great privilege, with Veronica and myself both enjoying our travel.  But the added benefit was also seeing the development of baby Pickle.  We were watching him grow and develop, day by day, but each time we were on a plane with him again it was a sudden and stark reminder of how much he was changing.  The bassinet seemed like it was getting smaller and smaller each time, and on this trip it did little to keep him contained.  Instead he was far happier sitting up whilst he tried to escape.

We arrived early evening and caught the train into the city.  Once we arrived, I suddenly had an urgent work call.  I took care of our luggage whilst putting in the earbuds to take the call.  Veronica took charge of baby Pickle in the stroller and we slowly walked towards the hotel whilst I spoke.  It was a strange experience to concentrate on the call whilst being bombarded by the sensory overload that is a bustling Japanese metropolis.  The streets were crowded, the lights were bright and the air was cold.  I somehow had to block it all out and concentrate on the call, all whilst still remaining aware enough to not accidentally walk into traffic. 

The hotel wasn't too far from the train station.  We checked in, put our luggage down and stepped back out into the night to find some food.  Most places were busy, but our first few enquiries of emptier places seemed to be met with a quick rejection once they saw the stroller.  I didn't think too much of this, but it would become more of an issue as time went by.  We walked past an izakaya that seemed a bit friendlier.  The young man out front looked at us for a moment and then quickly ushered us into the back where there was a convenient little corner table set up behind the bar.  Baby Pickle enjoyed his time here as he crawled around, and tried to grab at each piece of food that was brought to us.  He would have to settle for the small pieces of vegetables and not the grilled meats.

 

By the time we left, it was getting late and Pickle was now asleep.  He was well rugged up, so we went for a walk around the city.  The centre of Osaka didn't feel very big, but it was an intensely busy place.  Even though it was late in the evening, there were still crowds of people everywhere and the lights of the city still shone and flashed.

Veronica couldn't resist the urge any longer and took us straight to one of the claw machine shops.  Her excitement could barely be contained as she started to play the games.  The noise and lights of the stores were all too much for me though.  It had been a long day and standing inside with the overwhelmingly bright lights and sounds were the last thing I wanted.  I decided to go for a walk with the sleeping Pickle as Veronica continued to play.

Exploring Tokyo

Tokyo is such an outrageously fun place to visit.  Even though it wasn't my first visit, I was reveling in all this place had to offer.  After only a day and night, I had already embraced the activities and had my fill of wonderful food.  There was still lots to explore.

Veronica was surprised that on my lone trip to Tokyo many years ago, I hadn't been to visit Sensoji.  Looking at pictures and watching videos of the area, I was a bit surprised myself.  I had been more of a novice back then and clearly failed to do the proper research on where to go.  After the late night out in Shinjuku, we woke up late with the goal of going to Sensoji.  Since we were staying in Akasaka, we first went to visit the Harry Potter "station" that was nearby.  I have no interest in Harry Potter, but for Veronica it was probably one of the highlights of her trip.  From there, we took the metro across town to Sensoji and its famous streets.

I had somehow missed visiting Sensoji during my first visit to Tokyo.  I had been staying on the other side of the city, but it was still a shock that I hadn't come to see this incredible part of the city.  It was touristy, but understandably.  The street and the temple itself were both full of visitors, but it seemed to add to the energy of the place.  We walked down the main street slowly, stopping at random stores to look at the offerings and to try the various snacks on offer.  The coal roasted mochi was delicious.  It seemed to have none of the bland and premade taste that some Japanese food sometimes has.  Veronica was enamoured with the rice crackers toasted over flames and wrapped in nori.  After eating one, she left me to run back to the old man selling them to buy another.

The temple itself was an enormous building itself.  A combination of tourists and locals alike stood in awe, some gazing at its beauty, others partaking in the ritual of offering prayers and offerings.  I walked around and tried to take it all in as much as possible.  I found it quite comforting seeing so many people.  I had been traveling more over the last few months, but the restrictions of the last several years still had an impact on me so being around so many people and knowing that this was the case as well back home seemed to offer a strangely cathartic release.

We walked through the whole complex.  Ron decided to pay her respects up close while I just observed.  We walked back through the complex, down one of the side streets that ran parallel to the famous central street.  On this street there seemed to be even more variety of restaurants and small shops selling beautifully crafted ornaments along with the usual knickknack garbage.  We tried to find a restaurant, but sadly all recommendations we had received seemed to be closed that day.  It was a strange as there wasn't any particular event on and it seemed that we just managed to find those which had been closed.  We walked back towards the metro station and saw big signs for a shabu shabu restaurant.  It wasn't in our plans, but we both felt the draw of the warm and comforting meat cooked in the hot metal bowl.  We went up the elevator to a friendly restaurant that pressed an English placard into our hands, insisting we read it before proceeding.  We looked down and read through the contents.  Turns out this was a horse meat restaurant.  Given how particular some people might be when it comes to this type of meat, it was probably a good idea by the restaurant to flag this to people first.  Undeterred we nodded in agreement and walked in.  We sat with a nice view over the river and ate our fill of the food that was cooked for us. 

We spent the rest of the day walking around central Tokyo.  The shops around Ginza were all open and the streets were all closed off to let people walk around uninterrupted.  It was nice, but seemed a bit underutilised at the same time. The footpaths in Tokyo are so wide that adding the extra space of the empty streets didn't seem quite necessary.  We went into the enormous department stores and filled our bags with presents for friends and family back in Hong Kong.  As the evening approached, we hopped back on the metro towards Shibuya.  We had booked tickets to go to the top of Shibuya Sky to see the view.  

The new skyscraper Shibuya Scramble had opened up in the last few years and the observation deck had become one of the "must do" activities for people visiting Tokyo.  We joined the line and made our way up the elevators and escalators to the top.  This slow journey up was alone quite an experience as we were able to see views across Tokyo and down towards the famous Shibuya crossing.  Once we reached the top, we were given wide sweeping and unobstructed views.  It was a great location and a nice place to lay back and look up into the sky.

After the lovely views of Shibuya Sky, we made our way back to the metro to head back across to the other side of Tokyo.  For our last night in Tokyo, I had booked an omakase for us.  It didn't feel like a true Tokyo trip without such an experience.  We arrived in the small restaurant down a small side street.  The entrance was in the simple, yet elegant style you would expect for such a traditional style of eatery.  Inside the chef was waiting for us and directed us to our seats.  In a strange counterpoint to what I would normally expect in such restaurants, it was the younger man who was the chef and the older man was the sous chef assisting.

For next few hours we sat and chatted.  The chefs went about their business with rapid and deliberate actions.  Each course was prepared with a focus and attention that always impressed and amazed me.  I savoured everything that was presented before me.  I tried to give respect to not only the quality of ingredients, but also to the training and care that each piece represented.  To talk about dining as an experience often seems pretentious, and in many cases it is, but there are definitely situations where I feel such a description is the most apt.

Tokyo is an incredible place for visitors.  I'm not sure how good it would be as a place to visit, but from my tourist lens, it seemed to offer an incredible combination of sights and experiences.  There was a seemingly never ending number of things to do and to visit.  It had been many years since I had visited, and I hoped that I would be back soon.
 

Tokyo and TeamLab

I was amazingly able to find reasonably priced tickets to Tokyo over the long weekend.  Flight prices have generally been crazy ever since the covid restrictions have dropped, but I never thought it possible to be able to find flights to Tokyo from Hong Kong over such a high demand period.  Not only were the tickets reasonably priced, but they were also perfectly timed.  Flying out on Friday night, with a return late Monday afternoon.  We arrived at Haneda late at night (another blessing given it's so much closer to central Tokyo) and we were confronted by an immigration queue that lasted well over an hour.  Half way through the lineup, the change in the covid restriction requirements suddenly kicked in and all the officials began to methodically change all the systems they seemed to be using.  Even the display screens around where we were lining up were suddenly switched off to remove all the warnings and notifications about the covid related entry requirements.  Finally, we were able to get through and get to our hotel.  We had decided to stay in Akasaka for both its convenience and because it was the only place we were able to get a room with a decent sized bed with such short notice.  We arrived well after midnight, but after checking in and dropping our bags, we decided we wanted to go straight out.  We were tired from the trip, but we were in Tokyo and we wanted to breath in the fun this city had to offer straight away.  We wandered the still lively streets of Akasaka and found a late night sushi bar for beer and food.

The next day, we lingered in bed a little bit too long and it we only got out at around mid morning.  Veronica had seen a famous place for ochazuke she wanted us to try.  There would be a line, so we went over to begin the tedious task of waiting.  As Veronica waited, I wandered off to find us both coffees.  I found something and went back.  There had been no movement.  I looked at the long line and thought if this was the best use of our time.  We were on holiday, so our time both mattered and didn't all at once.  I looked at my watch and thought about how best to deal with the situation.  We were in the Ginza area, surrounded by nearby shops so I thought that the best way to deal with this was a tag team approach.  I told Veronica I would take the first watch.  She agreed and disappeared off to go shopping in the nearby department stores.  I stood and waited, playing with my phone and occasionally looking up.  The line barely moved.  Engrossed in my scrolling, I barely noticed when Veronica returned after over an hour.  We had made some progress in the line, but there was still a while to wait.  We were at that strange point of waiting, where we knew there would still be a long time to wait, but where the sunk time would be a complete waste if we were to leave.  It was my turn to go do my own thing so I decided to go explore the area.  I walked onto the main road and in the distance I could see a large building that seemed to stand out a bit amongst its surroundings.  Looking online, I found that it was the Artizon Museum.  It seemed as good a time as any to go visit.

The museum had several large galleries.  There seemed to be a mix of modern and impressionist art.  I couldn't quite work out what, if any, particular theme it had.  The building was beautiful.  Along two sides, there were large windows that opened up to the surrounding area.  It gave the entire building a wonderful light feeling, as though it was a glasshouse surrounding the interior.  I walked around the different galleries.  There were some interesting modern art displays that focused on light and darkness.  I found myself walking through some rooms that were almost pitch black, with small exhibits in the centre of these cavernous rooms.  The rest of the museum felt more conventional, with paintings and sculptures like what you would find in more standard galleries in Europe.  I took the time to sit, as my legs were feeling slightly tired from the long wait in line.

Feeling a bit more refreshed, I went back to the line to wait with Veronica.  We had made good progress and after a little bit longer we were into the small little restaurant.  Seated at the bar table with the rest of the guests, we were served a large bowl of rice, heaped high with minced tuna, roe and uni.  After eating about half of it all, you passed it back to the chefs who then filled it to the brim with the most intense fish broth I had ever tasted.  It was a lovely experience, but ultimately still not worth the long wait.

It had been a strange and long way to start the trip.  I never thought I would ever line up for something for so long, certainly not for food.  The tag team approach had made it more bearable, but I was still a bit disappointed to have lost so much time.  We went back to the metro and made our way over to Akihabara.  Veronica wanted to play with some of the fancy Japanese photo booths and I was happy to go and visit this crazy part of Tokyo.  Once there I took in my fill of this unique part of the world, filled with a subculture that seems to be growing and moving more into the mainstream.  We didn't stay too long there.  We had a booking to go see the TeamLab exhibition.  We jumped in a cab and sped across to the other side of Tokyo close to the bay.  

How would I describe TeamLab?  Interactive art?  An immersive experience?  A series of art installations?  It was certainly impressive.  Inside an enormous building, a series of large connected rooms had been set up, each one with a different approach to the theme of space.  It was big and it was immersive, engaging you with all the senses.  From the very beginning, you were made to remove your shoes and you entered by climbing a steep incline of flowing water.  It was a clever approach to immediately draw you in and to clean your feet at the same time.  Once inside, you moved from room to room, each with its unique approach to the theme.  

The TeamLabs exhibition had become a huge draw card.  Every one who had been to Tokyo recently raved about it and recommended that we go.  It was understandable.  The interactive nature of everything coupled with a high quality of execution.  I did feel a sense of wonder as I moved from room to room.  One moment, we were bouncing on giant cushions, the next moment we were in a hall of lights, then we were knee deep in water with virtual "fish" swimming around our legs.

After the very enjoyable time at TeamLab, we went to Shinjuku.  There we met up with a couple of friends who had recently moved to Tokyo.  I hadn't seen them since they lived in Hong Kong, so it was a good opportunity to reconnect and to introduce them to Ron.  They had been enjoying the Tokyo life and as big foodies they had been exploring the different dining opportunities on offer.  We had left the choice of restaurant to them.  They took us out of the main centre of Shinjuku and up into a fairly non-descript building.  The elevator doors opened and it felt like we were stepping off the street directly into an old robatayaki restaurant.

The detailing of the restaurant made it feel like it was a standalone building.  I had to remind myself a few times that we were actually inside a high rise building next to Shinjuku.  We sat down and our friends put their recently learnt Japanese to work.  We ordered as much as we could off the menu.  This was a popular restaurant and several items were already sold out, but we targeted as many of the robata items as we could.  The waitress shook her head with concern at a few of our requests.  How could we possibly eat that much?  Her concern was unfounded though as we easily finished off every dish brought to the table.

One of the last dishes brought to us was a simple iron vessel cooked rice.  It seemed a strange way to finish a meal which included so many items grilled directly over the coals, but it was one of the dishes that the waitress insisted we get.  The iron vessel was brought to our table directly from the hot coals, and when the lid was taken off we could all smell the strong fragrant rice.  It didn't smell burnt or smoky, just welcoming and more "ricy" that anything we were accustomed to.  The waitress divided the rice into bowls for each of us, then lay a shiso leaf on top of each bowl with a final flourish of a soy marinated egg yolk.  It all seemed so simple, but the combination was unbelievably good as we each left our bowls completely empty.

Amazing soba

I was pinching myself a little.  One of the favourite segments in Bourdain's shows had been when he had introduced the world to the brilliant soba master Tatsuru Rai.  Watching him slowly and skillfully make soba, I was entranced and amazed.  To be able to experience something so close to perfection seemed to be unattainable and so I left it as nothing more than a dream.

Yet here I was.

I was walking done the snow covered path leading to Tatsuru Rai's small restaurant, the famous Rakuichi.  Even walking through the snow covered path felt dream like, everything shone and sparkled under the lights, a crisp and perfect white.  From the moment we got out of the cab, there seemed to be a sense that we were entering into a different a protected little world.  The gate was surrounded by high drifts of snow and it created a long snow cavern for us to walk through.

Once we reached the other side, the small and quaint little restaurant waited at the end of the path.  It seemed almost like out of a fairy tale.  The snow sat delicately on the roof and on the branches of the trees.  There was a thick covering on the ground.  The door waited for us to enter.

Once inside, we took off our shoes and jackets in the genkan.  We were lucky to have to been able to get a last minute cancellation booking and we were even seated at the counter table.  It was a prime spot that let us watch as the chef prepared the food.  I didn't know what to expect other than the soba, so I was very happily surprised to find that to soba only formed one course in an entire meal showcasing the chef's skills.

Each course was presented beautifully, each like a work of art.  I have often listened to people to people describing food as art.  It's hard not to roll your eyes at times with such flowery and over the top language.  Here, I didn't feel any such disdain and I looked at the care and thoughtfulness of each dish as being a true demonstration of a craftsman at the height of his skills. 

 

The second last course was a shabu shabu of pork.  After the delicately plated dishes, it seemed that we were moving away from that approach and towards more hearty food.  It was comforting and warming.  The small flame and the hot broth in front of me, as we leaned over and dipped the thinly sliced meat in to be cooked.  It felt like the ideal type of food to enjoy in these cold surroundings.

With these dishes now all served, Master Rai began working on the soba, the reason we were all at this restaurant.  He worked meticulously and efficiently.  The mounds of buckwheat flour, slowly being transformed into a rough dough, and then into an ever smoother dough.  He moved from the large tub to the work bench and started rolling in earnest.  Behind him was a selection of rolling pins.  He switched back and forth between these, diligently sculpting the dough into a perfectly consistent and ever expanding disk.

The kneading and rolling was almost rhythmic.  Master Rai didn't seem rushed, and he remained focused entirely on what was in front of him.  He lay down one rolling pin and picked up another as he began to thin out the dough into a sheet in preparation for making the long strands of soba.  As he dragged and folded the long sheet of dough, it sounded more like a thick sheet of fabric dragging on a bench.  There was a satisfying sweep with every turn and every layer he created.  Eventually, he was left with a large pad.  Dozens of layers, folded over one another.  The shape was uniform in length and width.  Thinking about the sounds, it seemed like he had taken a quilt and folded it up, ready to be packed away.  Instead, he brought out his long knife and a guide board and began to slice the individual strands of soba.  Everyone in the restaurant looked on with amazement and awe.  The thick dough was now being transformed into the soba we had all come to enjoy.  Each stroke of the knife came with a satisfying knock on the work bench.  He finished the work, lifted the soba in bunches, dusted them in flour and shook them as he placed them on a wide basket to be taken away to be cooked.

Earlier in the meal, I had been asked whether I wanted my soba hot or cold.  The traditional way is to eat the soba cold with a dipping sauce.  Given this was my first time eating Master Rai's soba, I felt the only appropriate way to eat this would be cold.  The plate was brought out in front of me with the sauce on the side.  It looked simple.  It was simple.  It was probably the plainest and simplest of all the dishes that had been served to me this evening.  Yet, when I ate it, I immediately understood why this was the reason I had come.  The soba was the perfect combination of soft and chewy.  The flavour of the buckwheat was earthy and satisfying.  I had never had better and I knew that I never would.

I was completely satisfied.  When you place such high hopes and expectations in a place, they normally let you down.  It's not surprising.  How often can something or somewhere be as great or amazing as the lofty heights we set in our minds?  Yet here was something special.  This was a place that was everything I had hoped it to be.  I knew I was fortunate for this opportunity and I was thankful to have been able to experience the work of a true master.

The hearth

So it turns out many of the best food spots in Sapporo are located in the red light district.... I guess it makes sense, they're just catering to people who have worked up an appetite!

Merissa and I were enjoying our holiday in Sapporo.  Everything was covered in white snow and the city glistened at night.  We were looking for dinner and google maps took us further and further into the red light district.  It wasn't exactly a difficult or shocking path we took.  It seems like the red light district of Sapporo is integrated into large parts of the city centre and almost unavoidable if you live in Sapporo.  We found several extremely expensive seafood restaurants that we decided against and considered going back to ramen alley.  As we walked past one of the prettiest Japanese girls I have ever seen (whom I can only assume was working, given she was standing around on a street corner looking at all the guys seductively), we saw an incredibly old looking building.  With the more modern buildings around, this was an old wooden building that seemed completely out of place amongst its surroundings.  We were hungry and looking for dinner.  I wandered up closely to the old building out of curiosity, and saw that it had a menu at the front.  

It turns out this was an old robatayaki restaurant.  Not just any robatayaki restaurant either, it was the oldest one in Sapporo.  It was an accidental discovery by us, but what an incredible find it was.

Inside, decades of smoke had left its mark. The walls and roof were covered in a thick and dark layer of black soot.  There was an unavoidable smell of smoke, and the whole place felt old in both a charmingly rustic way, as well as in a decrepit way.  At the hearth in the middle of the restaurant, there were old ladies who were carefully tending to the dishes being cooked.  We were sat down and began ordering.  We were novices, so we took recommendations as well as looking at what others were ordering.  Everything that arrived was incredible.  It was as expected, seafood heavy, but cooked with care and the rich smoky flavour you would expect in a place like this.  Most surprising was the smoked fish that we ordered.  It looked dried out, with each fish hanging from the rafters.  They took each fish down and grilled it on the fire, and somehow this smoked and grilled fish still retained a lovely moistness to it.  

We left the restaurant full and content.  The streets off to the side of the main roads and streets were treacherous and icy.  The main streets had underground heating which kept the ice melted, but here we got a better understanding of just how cold it was.  We slid around, trying our best to not fall as we moved back towards the safety of the heated roads.

Sapporo was lovely at night.  The lights shone bright in the city as buildings were illuminated and people rushed from eatery to eatery.

A great little city

We were in Sapporo for a few days.  We were on our way to Niseko to ski, but we thought we would give this northern city some time.  I didn't know much about the place, but it seemed like an ideal opportunity to explore before we started skiing.

It was a great decision and I wish we had stayed longer.

I started off the first morning by going for a run.  It didn't seem "that" cold, and so I put on a t shirt and shorts and jogged out of the hotel as Merissa continued to sleep.  The staff gave me a strange look as a wandered out but I thought nothing much of it.  After the first lap of the main park area, I started to realise my mistake.  It was far colder than I realised and no amount of running was going to change that.  I ran back around back towards the hotel and quickly inside.

The rest of the trip in Sapporo went much better.

It was a compact city.  Easily accessible, with all the attractions and sights all within close proximity. 

There was also a loveliness to the place.  Maybe it was the snow, but I felt it was more than that.  It seemed to have all the wonder and uniqueness that you would expect in Japan, but the whole vibe of the place was far more laidback and friendly.  It was still a "big" city, but it certainly didn't feel like Tokyo.

From the high up locations, we looked out across the snow covered city.  It only took us a few days, but we were able to get a good and happy impression of this place.

One additional bonus was that the food in the city was fantastic.  All of the usual Japanese favourites were on offer, but there was an additional Hokkaido twist that made the meals seem a bit more wholesome and rustic.  The ramens were richer and heartier, with knobs of butter thrown in.  The grilled meats at the robatayakis were smokier and far rougher than any of the polished yakiniku or yakitori places that most people were accustomed to.

The fact that all of the best eateries also seemed to be in the red light district only added to strange sense of hilarity of this great little city.

A refined dining experience

There is a beauty to Tokyo that reminds me a little bit of Paris.  It isn't the same as Paris, but its like an echo.  It's an oriental Paris and certainly much cleaner, but there's definitely something about the way everything is set up that hints at it.  Every now and again as you walk, you'll even come across some buildings that look like they've been lifted out of one of the Arrondissements, cleaned, then dropped into Paris.  I don't think any of this was a mere coincidence either.  There's clearly an attempt to recreate some of the image of Paris within Tokyo.  From the buildings to the general style of the streets, the architects and designers in Tokyo have definitely got a city they are trying to emulate.  Hamish and I were walking around a bit before dinner and we found ourselves in a very posh suburb.  We were walking to the Tokyo Tower when I walked past a Dior flagship store.  It looked like a glass jewellery box, with lights shining out.  We stopped to admire the building and also asked how it was possible that such a building could ever pay for itself in sales of handbags?  Clearly things were going exceptionally well for Dior! 

We kept walking further up the hill until we reached Tokyo Tower.  The similarities to Paris were definitely growing!  We looked up at this Eiffel Tower lookalike and laughed a little bit.  It was much smaller, but all lit up and with the surrounding trees, it still looked beautiful.

From the top of the tower, we were able to walk around and see the Tokyo skyline.  It was a good view and vantage spot to look around, but the Park Hyatt probably still had a better view of everything (along with cocktails).

We walked down and started heading towards dinner.  We were meeting with the others at a restaurant called "Sushi Yuu".  We would be having a full omakase dinner, something I was very excited about.  I had never had an omakase dinner before and to be able to do one in Tokyo felt like a particularly special treat.  This restaurant has an impressive reputation as one of the top sushi restaurants in Japan.  Whilst it doesn't sit at the very top echelon of places like Jiro or Taku, Sushi Yuu is in the next level and still considered one of the great restaurants in Tokyo.  We were exceptionally lucky to be able to dine at this place as getting a booking is an incredibly difficult task.  Alvise had somehow managed to track down someone who had the contact details and who was able to make the booking on our behalf.

Inside the small and immaculately kept restaurant, we sat at the counter facing the chef with a small handful of other people.  He prepared everything in front of us and presented the food to us dish by dish.  We bowed to him and thanked him for every dish, asking his thoughts and opinions on how we should eat everything and his recommendations on what was best to drink and to accompany the food.  The chef started out formally with us, but as the meal went on he soon he smiled more.  He seemed to enjoy the interaction with us as well as the respect we were giving to him and his craft.  We gladly deferred to him in every aspect.  I asked him to decide exactly what to drink and when to drink with each course and he obliged my request, instructing me to start on beer, before telling me to stop completely halfway through one beer as it was time to move to the sake for the next courses.  I listened obediently and his instructions were completely correct.  The food did taste better as I changed my drinks.

One sequence of dishes was particularly memorable.  The chef presented us with four tuna nigiri, starting from the leanest cut of tuna and then with each proceeding piece given to us getting fattier until we reached the fattiest otoro.  I had never been able to compare these different cuts side by side, and when combined with the rice, I was able to appreciate all of the flavour to a degree I had never previously been able to.  It helped me to appreciate each piece all the more and I felt like my palette was being sharpened by each course that was being made for us.  We looked around at each other and I quipped to Hamish that I thought this was the best meal I had ever had the good fortune of eating.  He smiled and nodded his head in the laconic way that he does.  With more than half the meal to go, we were able to really lean into what we were being presented with.  We embraced all the more this experience we had been gifted knowing just how special it was.

By the end of the meal, I was completely full.  The sheer number of courses we had been given had left me satisfied, but I in no way regretted any of this overindulgence.  The chef was now in a jovial mood and laughing and joking with us.  He seemed to like our group a lot, chatting with us about our thoughts and what we liked about the dish.  Our active engagement was something he liked and clearly helped to stoke the pride he had in his craft (which was well deserved).  He told us to wait as he disappeared out back and then returned with a plate of orange jellies which had been set in some sliced orange peels and a large plastic jar.  The orange jellies were made by his mother and he wanted us to try some (no one else in the restaurant was given any) and then he started to pour us glasses of what turned out to be his home made umeshu from the plastic tub.  The orange jellies were intensely orange.  The citrus flavour stronger than any I've ever eaten.  It was sweet, but naturally so.  The umeshu was exceptionally tasty.  It tasted homemade.  It didn't have the clean and machined flavour of something which had been mass produced, but had more flavours floating around than I could have anticipated.  All of it was delicious and we thanked him for giving us this extra treat beyond the already otherworldly meal we had just experienced.

Seafood and imperial beauty

Alvise had convinced us all to wake up at a truly ungodly hour.  We all gathered at an agreed upon subway stop bleary eyed.  I grasped at my cup of coffee, trying to keep my eyes open.  Hamish looked tired, but Bene looked as cheerful as always.  Morning people are just the worst....

We had good reason to be up so early though.  Alvise had convinced us all to go and visit the famous Tsukiji markets.  These were world famous fish market that operated everyday in Tokyo.  This market wasn't a simple tourist market, but it was an actual working wholesale fish market.  The size of the place had turned it into a bit of a tourist attraction and people gathered from all around the world to look at its inner workings.  Given the intense interest in this place, there was a need for us to line up so that we could get in as the authorities had set it up so that tourists would only be allowed in after a certain time.

When we were able to get into the market itself, a lot of the most intense action had clearly already happened.  Many store owners were in the process of cleaning or tidying up for the rush of tourists who would be walking around their stalls.  Apparently those who want to see the real auctions happening have to start lining up for about 1am in the morning.  I wanted to see the market, but I definitely didn't want to be lining up to watch an auction from 1am in the morning.  It all made sense though.  This was a working market and there was business that needed to be done.  It seemed like a fair compromise for the gawkers like us to be kept at a distance until all the serious work was finished.

I was still glad to be in amongst the throng of tourists and stall owners.  It was a unique experience to see this market.  Even though I had seen plenty of markets over the years, including many within Asia, this market felt a bit unique.  It's size alone made it something different, but there was more to it than that.  Even with all of the activity and the people around, the market was quite clean.  The vendors kept their wares in order and most surprisingly of all, even though this was a gigantic seafood market there was no smell or odour to the place.

Outside of the wholesale market, there are retail markets where you can buy seafood, knickknacks and other random goods.  Alvise and Hamish admired the Japanese knives on offer.  I randomly started ordering seafood from the different grilling stores (all of it delicious), but we all wanted a bit more.  We were all cold from the early morning exploration, so we found the busiest looking ramen store.  There were huge lines and the ramen chefs had a long production line ready to prepare bowl after bowl of hot ramen.  We gathered up the bowls with our numb fingers and slurped them up at the benches to the side.

After our morning exploration of Tsukiji, we went our separate ways for the afternoon.  Alvise, Jackie and Bene were heading to Akihabara.  Hamish and I had already been there earlier, so we wanted to go to the Meiji Jingu.  We arranged to meet up again in the evening.  Hamish and I made our way over to the other side of town to the enormous park that is Meiji Jingu.

The park and the shrine inside are dedicated to Emperor Meiji, the great reformer who moved Japan out of the feudal age and into the modern era.  Like the other parks we had visited, this park was beautiful, but it had a different feel and style.  The colours were darker and more muted and it all felt much more elegant in its style.

Like the other parks, Meiji Jingu felt incredibly serene and peaceful.  Yet the darker atmosphere seemed to make everything feel much more serious.  There were no sakura here, and instead there just evergreens and dark canopies along with immaculately maintained gardens.  There was a reverent feeling to the whole place.  It made sense.  This was a place that was meant to honour and to an extent worship.  It wasn't a place for lighthearted fun with the family.

Near the outside of Meiji Jingu were huge rows of sake barrels.  The barrels are apparently donated every year to be used in the various ceremonies and events that occur here at the park and the shrine.  It seems to be one of the iconic images of Tokyo and everyone took their turns to take some photos.

The mixture of new and old in Tokyo is lovely.  It doesn't feel forced, but both complement the other and add to the Japanese style and culture which captivates so many.  I was quite sold on it all.  I definitely wanted to throw myself further into the depths of this country, to understand more about how it worked and what it had to offer.