Brightlights, Techno Sushi and a yakuza den

Thur 13 Feb 2014

The alarm snapped us out of deep sleeps and we forced ourselves out of bed to have quick showers. Sarah had a bacon sarnie waiting for us which we scoffed half of and took the rest for the road. We said our goodbyes, thanked James and Sarah for their huge hospitality and took a cab to central station. Being all modern and that, we were able to check in for our flight from the train station before even arriving at the airport. This saved on time and meant we wouldn't have to lug our bags on and off various modes of transport and through the airport.

On the plane, we'd lucked out as Jamie had inadvertently booked seats with tonnes of legroom. Due to a poor selection of movies we watched bits of 3 horribly gushy chick flicks before giving up on inflight entertainment all together... except for the whiskey and gingers.

At Naritta airport we collected our bags and stopped to use the conveniences - you know you're in Tokyo when your toilet seat is heated, you can select the musical tone of your flush and can chose the pressure with which you would like water squirted up onto your nether regions.

Luckily signs in English and symbols helped us navigate our way to the trains. Here a very helpful lady calculated the cheapest way for us to get to our hotel and wrote down all of the necessary info needed to swap trains to the metro.

When the train left the station we saw that snow covered everything in view. We would be really, really cold in Japan. At Nippori station we swapped to the metro. At the station bird song filled the air, we looked around and could see no sign of any feathered friends and realised that this was coming from the speakers above our heads. This was not to soothe irate commuters as we initially presumed. Probably because there are no irate commuters. Everyone is very calm, composed, polite and helpful. It's sort of like a post apocalyptic London.

Anyway, the tiny tweets of birdsong are in fact to help guide the visually impaired to the correct part of the station. Different stations play different bird calls. This is just the tip of the wonderfully weird iceberg that is Tokyo.

At Osaki station we followed the exit signs, walked through an overpass and boom we were at our hotel. Although a little out of town, we couldn't have been closer to the metro which could take us wherever we needed to go. Our room was small but well designed and we even had a view of Mt Fuji (although at this moment we didn't realise and we wouldn't be able to see it for a few days due to the snow).

Not wanting to waste a moment in this amazing city, we dressed up warm and headed straight out to Shibuya where we'd heard about an amazing restaurant called Genki Sushi. Shibuya crossing is the famous area in Tokyo you always see in films and documentaries about Japan. There are huge screens with flashing lights advertising anything and everything. The lights stretch out down all of the straight long roads that splay like rays of sun from the central crossing where pedestrians wait patiently for the green man and flock in diagonals.

We were seated at a table and left with our digital waitress... a small touch screen menu displaying all of the sushi and sides on order. We could select three dishes at a time and then magically, a couple of minutes later, a button flashed and beeped and our food zoomed up and stopped right at our table. We took it off the remote controlled car (well it wasn't really a car, sort of a remote controlled tray but worked like a remote control car) and pushed the flashing button to send it back to the kitchen.

Salmon and tuna Nigiri, California rolls, edamame beans and avocado prawn rolls beeped their way onto our table as our waitress (digital) challenged us to play Rock Paper Scissors. Such an easy ordering mechanism and eyes bigger than our bellies left us waddling our way out feeling very satisfied with our first Tokyo food experience.

Next stop was a bar, obviously. We walked up and down a few streets and clocked that like Hong Kong the good bars would be hidden halfway up the tower blocks. We scanned the signs on each building and opted for a strange English bar where we thought we might have a quiet cider. The bar was in the basement so we got the lift down, exited into a desolate corridor, turned right and fell into an absolutely heaving pub. Like an actual English boozer full of expats and Tokyites. It was insane that it could be so full of people. From the outside it just looked like a sad little failing bar but inside people were squeezed in like Sardines.

One drink here was enough and we ventured out to find something a little more authentic. Back at the main Shibuya crossing, we walked up one of the main roads and down a side street where we stumbled into a crazy arcade. In place of any meaningful description, ill call it, a crazy metal marble future zone. People of all ages, staring intently at a computer screen, smashing the console in front while small metal balls flew either in or out of the machine.

We tried to have a go, but confusion set in, and after being offered a tray of thousands if metal balls for £10 we decided to give it a miss, and leave the mystery where it was.

Browsing signs for bars for a short while, we found our bar (judged solely on instinct). It was up two flights of stairs and when we open the door to the dark room smoke bellowed out - it was like stepping into a yakuza den. This tiny little bar comprising of 4 bar stools and two tiny tables was cosy to say the least. With us included the total was up to 10 people and there was no room for anymore.

As intimidating as it was, we were welcomed with smiles and broken English. Every time we pronounced something correctly in Japanese the whole bar (the 8 other patrons) whooped, cheered and high fived us. This happened again when Jamie mentioned that we were in Tokyo for my birthday, when someone noticed my tiger top and when we complimented anything Japanese.

When asked what we would do for my birthday the following day I said Karaoke. Smiles and clapping.

"We have Karaoke!"

"Oh what, is there a karaoke bar downstairs?"

Before anyone could answer a small touchpad had been placed on the bar with two microphones. They had karaoke there, right there in the worlds smallest bar and lucky me, I got a free song for my birthday. Opting for Madonna 'Just like a prayer' from the Japanese heavy selection my cheeks were already flaring pink with embarrassment and I wished I was a little more merry so I could confidently crucify the song without remorse.

I thrust a mic at Jamie and asked him to sing with me. No sooner had I finished the intro was I well and truly in the Karaoke Zone, throwing in some shoulder dancing, head bobbing and other dance moves that require neither the use of arms or legs. Jamie had pretty quickly surrendered the mic to a happy hat wearing Japanese guy who killed it, in a bad way. On the plus side, his loud mispronunciation disguised my terrible voice adequately enough for us to receive a round of applause at the end.

My Karaoke compadre brought my next drink as a birthday treat and we stayed to get some top tips from the locals. Akihabara was the one we would remember as the suited guy repeated it over and over with ever such a slight slur.

‍