Believe it or not, I've done more in Tokyo than get drunk and eat donuts. Festivals! Shopping! Nieghborhooding! And museums!
We've been to a mind-bending range of museums on this trip. From the janky Mongolian joints featuring historical murals painted by 5 year olds, to the slick as hell, super specific and sometimes imposing halls of Korea, I'd say we're becoming experts. Here's a brief rundown of those we've made it to in Tokyo:
On Friday afternoon, we hit the Van Gogh exhibit at the National Art Center in Akasaka. The building is tremendous modern wavy wooden greatness with sessy lighting and a million uncomfortable looking but comfortably sitting chairs. The exhibit was the most extensive I've seen and the heavy hitter pieces were on loan from Amsterdam. There was a digital recreation of Room at Arles which was an interesting and scientific only-in-Japan experience. What was fascinating about viewing the paintings with an all-Japanese audience was their tendency to read all information presented, listen to the audio guide, then check off the pieces as they were viewed. This happened in silence while shuffling past the work in a line. I saw hardly anyone hang out for a second to see the detail of what was on the wall. Far more orderly than a visit to a museum in NYC, but seemingly a bit hasty considering what we were looking at! I'm sure they were glad to see the back of us as we likely interrupted the flow, but jayz, slow and smell the Irises folks.
Sword Museum in Shinjuku - We hit up the sword museum with Ed's parents during their recent visit. Its in a residential part of Shinjuku, way off the beaten path. The museum is basically one room of deconstructed swords from olden times. Its an impressive collection but if you don't know shit about swords, its kind of hard to understand what you're looking at. You see, they gave us a booklet in English that explains the forging process and the historical importance and probably some other stuff. But we smartly skipped the literacy test and headed straight for the main event. We spent the next hour hypothesizing about what we were seeing rather than having any actual idea. I figured I'd do the reading in post and then apply the knowledge retroactively, but I've since done neither the reading nor the reflecting and now I just remember a lot of metal in glass cases. Also, there was a camera crew there and we may have been on Japanese TV. Hopefully they didn't get any of our astute observations (my, what a pretty hilt?) on film.
Yebisu Beer Museum in Ebisu. I'm counting this as a museum even though there may have also been a place to drink beer where we spent a touch more time than in the actual exhibit. Butbutbut, the museum part is extra cool because on display are advertisements and packaging for Yebisu beer dating back to the 1890's. There are drawings of the old German-style beer halls that were crazy popular in Tokyo in the early 20th century and, of course, plastic food to illustrate the types of bar snacks people served back then (lots of tiny fishes). Plus, several brews to try. When we were in Suzhou, China, we went to a silk museum and one of the exhibits was a series of rooms set up to look like a silk farm. In the harvesting room there were huge bamboo baskets of silk worms. Thousands of them. And they were alive and albino and so very creepy and I had bad dreams that night. All I'm saying is that if I'm going to learn how something is made, I'd prefer that the finale is beer drinking instead of live worm viewing.
Mori Museum in Roppongi. The current exhibit, Sensing Nature, is one of the most tightly curated and enjoyable museum experiences I've had. There isn't a weak point in the show. Even the video art (sorry dear friend who majored in that) is beautiful and inspiring and 100% watchable. There are funny moments and serene moments and visually stunning moments and one spooky moment. I gush. Also, we watched the sun set from the sky deck/helipad, which has 360 degree views. Not too shabs.
Edo Tokyo Museum in Ryugoku. I didn't actually go with Ed and his parents because its, like, 7 floors and I've been before. But, I'm still going to post about it because Ed went and since we're life partners I get half credit for stuff he does (and vice versa). If you want to learn about the history of Japan and are too lazy to read Shogun, this museum teaches through countless dioramas and important artifacts. Really terrific if you're in to that sort of thing.
Tobacco and Salt Museum in Shibuya. We did this one with Jenny and the highlight was definitely the poster displays (Like the clicky flipping kind from a poster-art store in a mall in the 80s - who's with me? Trumbull? Anyone?) full of old cigarette packs. Before all the bad PR, smoking was an artform and except for all the beautiful people doing it, nothing about it was more glamorous than the packaging. We especially enjoyed the limited edition packs produced for the Olympics. Nothing says sporty....
Off to batten the hatches. Typhoon #14 is a dooz.
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Thursday, October 28, 2010
For all the Mister Donut fans out there...
I just wanted you to know that we were able to "purchase" our inaugural MisDo mug today using points from our frequent fatty card. This pales in comparison to the collection upstairs, but I'm still equal parts proud/disgusted by our commitment and resulting shwag.
I'd like to say that our unwavering consumerism was in pursuit of this prize, but I'm not really thinking that our intake is going to slip off now that we've reached 150 points... I wonder if one ever reaches a point where one is catapulted into a higher level of Mister Donut clubbery. Like, I would turn in my regular paper card to be updated and the counter person would in turn hand me a Silver card. You know, something permanent, perhaps with a bit more polish; something that says, "I'm an executive in the elite Mister Donut partnership."
And then if I graduated from Silver to Gold, someone would discreetly pull me aside and show me the secret handshake, which I would use to gain entry into a back room with leather club chairs and snifters of milk. And maybe, at the highest level (MisDo Black), toward the end of my life or a move abroad that would prevent me from continuing my habit, Mister Donut himself would visit me with a dozen Pon de Rings in the clubhouse and finally tell me what the hell they put in those donuts that makes them so damn good anyway....
I'd like to say that our unwavering consumerism was in pursuit of this prize, but I'm not really thinking that our intake is going to slip off now that we've reached 150 points... I wonder if one ever reaches a point where one is catapulted into a higher level of Mister Donut clubbery. Like, I would turn in my regular paper card to be updated and the counter person would in turn hand me a Silver card. You know, something permanent, perhaps with a bit more polish; something that says, "I'm an executive in the elite Mister Donut partnership."
And then if I graduated from Silver to Gold, someone would discreetly pull me aside and show me the secret handshake, which I would use to gain entry into a back room with leather club chairs and snifters of milk. And maybe, at the highest level (MisDo Black), toward the end of my life or a move abroad that would prevent me from continuing my habit, Mister Donut himself would visit me with a dozen Pon de Rings in the clubhouse and finally tell me what the hell they put in those donuts that makes them so damn good anyway....
Sunday, October 24, 2010
We were vaguely offended...
when Ed suggested we take a "before" photo. This was last weekend on a Saturday night out for the four of us. I borrowed Molly's hairdryer and actually applied makeup, and then we hit the town Tokyo style.
At dinner at one of M&A's favorite burger joints: Burger Mania in Ebisu
Following dinner and a walk through fancy expat-ville, we arrived at Hannah's bangin b-day party where we got down to some soul music dancing and serious cocktailing. Because the trains here stop running between midnight and 1, we had to split before we would've liked, and the four of us sprinted through a couple of stations to avoid a hefty cab fare. But when we returned to Sangenjaya, we weren't quite ready to pack it in. So we hit up Toki's 80's bar, which has no table charge and 500 yen drinks. Also, an unbelievable selection of 80's music videos, played on request.
A fellow patron, clearly a regular, told us that Toki the proprietor is basically a human Shazam. The Aussie claims he had hummed countless tunes across the bar and that Toki, without fail, could name that tune (and usually find the accompanying video). Same dude also schooled us on Jimmy Barnes, the "Australian Bruce Springsteen." Once we had wrapped up a rock block of Australian 80s music - Air Supply, Men at Work, Midnight Oil, INXS - the dance party started.
I guess this would be the 'after'... George Michael, y'all:
There are plenty more museums to be visited, mountains to be climbed, and temples to be awe-struck by on this trip. But when I look back on our time in Tokyo, I'm certain that one of my fondest memories will be of belting out "Freedom" with my best friend and a bar full of strangers at 2 am in a neighborhood joint. Followed immediately by a fit of hysterical laughter and a big steaming bowl of ramen. Best.
At dinner at one of M&A's favorite burger joints: Burger Mania in Ebisu
Following dinner and a walk through fancy expat-ville, we arrived at Hannah's bangin b-day party where we got down to some soul music dancing and serious cocktailing. Because the trains here stop running between midnight and 1, we had to split before we would've liked, and the four of us sprinted through a couple of stations to avoid a hefty cab fare. But when we returned to Sangenjaya, we weren't quite ready to pack it in. So we hit up Toki's 80's bar, which has no table charge and 500 yen drinks. Also, an unbelievable selection of 80's music videos, played on request.
A fellow patron, clearly a regular, told us that Toki the proprietor is basically a human Shazam. The Aussie claims he had hummed countless tunes across the bar and that Toki, without fail, could name that tune (and usually find the accompanying video). Same dude also schooled us on Jimmy Barnes, the "Australian Bruce Springsteen." Once we had wrapped up a rock block of Australian 80s music - Air Supply, Men at Work, Midnight Oil, INXS - the dance party started.
I guess this would be the 'after'... George Michael, y'all:
There are plenty more museums to be visited, mountains to be climbed, and temples to be awe-struck by on this trip. But when I look back on our time in Tokyo, I'm certain that one of my fondest memories will be of belting out "Freedom" with my best friend and a bar full of strangers at 2 am in a neighborhood joint. Followed immediately by a fit of hysterical laughter and a big steaming bowl of ramen. Best.
Thursday, October 21, 2010
travelin' reading list, part III
In our effort toward austerity, we decided to table the fantastic list of book recommendations that I received, and instead switch Kindles for a while. Ed is something of an Amazon impulse shopper, so he has a tremendous backlog. Unfortunately, he doesn't know what any of the books are about, and his Kindle doesn't get wifi here, so the plot summaries are of no use.
Since I'm generally too lazy to go online and read about my options, going the route of start a book with zero idea about its subject or genre has been kind of an interesting experiment. I've ended up reading quite a few things I never would have chosen, but really enjoyed. Between this and my experience with the Genghis trilogy, I'm starting to think I don't really know my own taste at all.
Lush Life by Richard Price
I remember when this first came out all the hubbub about the racial stereotypes, the colloquialisms, the cartoonish portrayal of hipster Manhattan. But what I don't remember is anyone mentioning that its a thoroughly captivating noir-ish book about a high profile murder on the Lower East Side. Perhaps I was just homesick, but the thinly anonymized descriptions of my old stomping grounds (I do miss the Cubano at Schiller's) was accurate and engaging. Ed and I agree Mr. Price's editor was asleep on the job but, overall, this was New York readin' at its finest.
How to Talk to a Widower by Jonathan Tropper
The Book of Joe by Jonathan Tropper
I'm going to group these together because Jonathan Tropper keeps rewriting the same book. The highest evolution is "This is Where I Leave You" which is, incidentally, the funniest book I have ever read. Ever. Haha out loud funny. Like these others, its about the son of a wealthy Jewish family from the suburbs of NYC who has a complicated/strained/estranged relationship with his tribe but, due to an unfortunate circumstance, must return to his roots. Everybody loves a good homecoming story and I imagine Jonathan Tropper must have had one hell of family reunion at some point in his life to get this much mileage out of it. His books are Gross Pointe Blank without the guns. You can almost hear the Hollywood studio exec pitching the story to Paul Rudd.
The Ax by Donald Westlake
I'm not giving anything away when I say upfront that this book is about a middle management guy who gets severed from his firm and decides to kill off the job applicants in his field that he sees as his competition. As an HR professional, I find his insight into the mind of the desperate and unemployed pretty fascinating. The downfall of the book, though, is that we never get it up to really love or hate this guy. I wanted him either to be a sympathetic figure in a bad situation, or a despicable villain. It feels like the author crapped out on taking a side, and the narrator is neither. He's just a boring middle aged guy in a boring marriage in a boring suburb. Who happens to kill people. Boring.
Bad Things Happen by Harry Dolan
I'm realizing as I type that Ed's Kindle has a lot of murdering on it. Perhaps something we should discuss at some point. This book was about several murders committed within a literary community. It started off fast and captivating; great character development, a colorful community in Ann Arbor, and plenty of writerly dialogue. Sadly, it devolved into something campy and ridiculous. I read a review that said readers might find it a "tad improbable." I'd say on the improbability scale, the needle lands on "fucking ridiculous." Pass.
Things My Girlfriend and I Have Argued About by Mil Millington
I think this was supposed to be a comedy. Its by a British author so, hard to tell. This may be a case of a concept that works as a blog but fails as a novel. From the reader's perspective, there's almost nothing about this relationship that seems happy or worthwhile. Both of the characters are tossers. Save us your pain, and just break up already.
Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro
Unexpected hit of my lifetime. I never would have guessed that a sci-fi character study about children raised to donate their organs would rock my brain. I haven't stopped thinking about it since I finished it. I'm so glad I started this book with no prior idea of what it was about, because I never would have read it. And it. Was. Bad. Ass. So beautifully written and tragic and vaguely Catcher-ish, but in the best way. You go, Kazuo.
Since I'm generally too lazy to go online and read about my options, going the route of start a book with zero idea about its subject or genre has been kind of an interesting experiment. I've ended up reading quite a few things I never would have chosen, but really enjoyed. Between this and my experience with the Genghis trilogy, I'm starting to think I don't really know my own taste at all.
Lush Life by Richard Price
I remember when this first came out all the hubbub about the racial stereotypes, the colloquialisms, the cartoonish portrayal of hipster Manhattan. But what I don't remember is anyone mentioning that its a thoroughly captivating noir-ish book about a high profile murder on the Lower East Side. Perhaps I was just homesick, but the thinly anonymized descriptions of my old stomping grounds (I do miss the Cubano at Schiller's) was accurate and engaging. Ed and I agree Mr. Price's editor was asleep on the job but, overall, this was New York readin' at its finest.
How to Talk to a Widower by Jonathan Tropper
The Book of Joe by Jonathan Tropper
I'm going to group these together because Jonathan Tropper keeps rewriting the same book. The highest evolution is "This is Where I Leave You" which is, incidentally, the funniest book I have ever read. Ever. Haha out loud funny. Like these others, its about the son of a wealthy Jewish family from the suburbs of NYC who has a complicated/strained/estranged relationship with his tribe but, due to an unfortunate circumstance, must return to his roots. Everybody loves a good homecoming story and I imagine Jonathan Tropper must have had one hell of family reunion at some point in his life to get this much mileage out of it. His books are Gross Pointe Blank without the guns. You can almost hear the Hollywood studio exec pitching the story to Paul Rudd.
The Ax by Donald Westlake
I'm not giving anything away when I say upfront that this book is about a middle management guy who gets severed from his firm and decides to kill off the job applicants in his field that he sees as his competition. As an HR professional, I find his insight into the mind of the desperate and unemployed pretty fascinating. The downfall of the book, though, is that we never get it up to really love or hate this guy. I wanted him either to be a sympathetic figure in a bad situation, or a despicable villain. It feels like the author crapped out on taking a side, and the narrator is neither. He's just a boring middle aged guy in a boring marriage in a boring suburb. Who happens to kill people. Boring.
Bad Things Happen by Harry Dolan
I'm realizing as I type that Ed's Kindle has a lot of murdering on it. Perhaps something we should discuss at some point. This book was about several murders committed within a literary community. It started off fast and captivating; great character development, a colorful community in Ann Arbor, and plenty of writerly dialogue. Sadly, it devolved into something campy and ridiculous. I read a review that said readers might find it a "tad improbable." I'd say on the improbability scale, the needle lands on "fucking ridiculous." Pass.
Things My Girlfriend and I Have Argued About by Mil Millington
I think this was supposed to be a comedy. Its by a British author so, hard to tell. This may be a case of a concept that works as a blog but fails as a novel. From the reader's perspective, there's almost nothing about this relationship that seems happy or worthwhile. Both of the characters are tossers. Save us your pain, and just break up already.
Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro
Unexpected hit of my lifetime. I never would have guessed that a sci-fi character study about children raised to donate their organs would rock my brain. I haven't stopped thinking about it since I finished it. I'm so glad I started this book with no prior idea of what it was about, because I never would have read it. And it. Was. Bad. Ass. So beautifully written and tragic and vaguely Catcher-ish, but in the best way. You go, Kazuo.
Monday, October 18, 2010
Kamakura - we did it so right.
Usually when we plan an outing, a daytrip, or even select a city to visit, no amount of due diligence yields perfect results. Invariably the train we thought we'd take doesn't run on the 3rd Tuesday of the month, the beach we wanted to go to closes precisely on August 22nd, the concert is sold out, the restaurant has burned down, the moon is waning, the protesters, the hurricane, the plague, etc.
Which is why, on the train home from Kamakura, there was some mighty fist bumping and self-congratulations on the execution of a perfect day. Even the German judge gave it a 10.
This website has the pertinents, if you're in the hood:
http://www.japan-guide.com/e/e2166.html
Kamakura is a suburb of Tokyo, about an hour by train to the southeast. We packed up the night before, e-mailed ourselves a few maps, and were on the train from Shibuya by 10:20 the next morning. Considering that my old job required me to be in the office at 7 a.m. for conference calls several times a week, its amazing how difficult I find getting out of the house by 9:30. Alas, we cleared the hurdle and boarded the train like sleep deprived puppies.
We got off at the Kita-Kamakura station at the north of the city. I share this detail because we later departed via the south station, which meant we had an entire day of wandering and hiking with no doubling back. Which was key. I have an irrational hatred of covering the same ground twice. So inefficient.
Although I came armed with maps and the GPS (for once) the Kamakuran tourist lovers have posted the city so that even the dimmest of Westerners can enjoy it without losing their way. We started at the Jochiji Temple, which is nestled in a thick forest of thousand year old cypress trees. Any reader of this blog knows that we have been to a mind numbing array of temples on this trip, but this one goes on the highlight reel. As their handout will plainly and humbly state it is only the 4th most important Zen temple in Kamakura, but for me its the numero uno gordita.
Next to the Jochiji Temple is the Daibutsu hiking trail, which is windy and wooded. Its a gorgeous walk full of staircases made of ancient tree roots, plus there are spurs leading to parks and temples along the way. It spit us out right near the Great Buddha, which is Kamakura's big draw. There were some American delegates there making thoroughly inappropriate jokes to their Japanese diplomat hosts about the size and shape of Buddha's ears. Really made me swell with pride (again) to be from the US. Let's just say I did NOT return their 'am I right fellow Westerner?' smiles. 0 points for those dudes.
Anyway, this Buddha is RAD:
After lunch and Kamakura's special ice cream (purple potato flavored) we headed to the Hasedera temple. Though not as sublime and serene as the first temple, this one has its own merits: beach views, a winding multi-caved cave, and a million tiny Buddhas. Though I am admittedly claustrophobic, the series of "rooms" inside the cave, which were full of carvings, alters and statues was awesome. And I only almost freaked out, like, one time. Which, considering we couldn't stand up straight was pretty remarkable.
The last stop on our walk from one end of town to the other was the beach. Kamakura is a well known surfing spot and the locals have become accordingly obsessed with all things Hawaiian. There are hula schools, board shops, a taco stand, and plenty of grungy pick ups on display in tribute to prevailing surf culture. Gnarly.
There are about a bazillion more temples and other important artifacts to see in Kamakura. But it was nice to leave feeling like the town merited a return trip. Plus, we learned a valuable lesson about day trip destinations. To recap, a perfect day trip requires the following elements:
*optional
Which is why, on the train home from Kamakura, there was some mighty fist bumping and self-congratulations on the execution of a perfect day. Even the German judge gave it a 10.
This website has the pertinents, if you're in the hood:
http://www.japan-guide.com/e/e2166.html
Kamakura is a suburb of Tokyo, about an hour by train to the southeast. We packed up the night before, e-mailed ourselves a few maps, and were on the train from Shibuya by 10:20 the next morning. Considering that my old job required me to be in the office at 7 a.m. for conference calls several times a week, its amazing how difficult I find getting out of the house by 9:30. Alas, we cleared the hurdle and boarded the train like sleep deprived puppies.
We got off at the Kita-Kamakura station at the north of the city. I share this detail because we later departed via the south station, which meant we had an entire day of wandering and hiking with no doubling back. Which was key. I have an irrational hatred of covering the same ground twice. So inefficient.
Although I came armed with maps and the GPS (for once) the Kamakuran tourist lovers have posted the city so that even the dimmest of Westerners can enjoy it without losing their way. We started at the Jochiji Temple, which is nestled in a thick forest of thousand year old cypress trees. Any reader of this blog knows that we have been to a mind numbing array of temples on this trip, but this one goes on the highlight reel. As their handout will plainly and humbly state it is only the 4th most important Zen temple in Kamakura, but for me its the numero uno gordita.
Next to the Jochiji Temple is the Daibutsu hiking trail, which is windy and wooded. Its a gorgeous walk full of staircases made of ancient tree roots, plus there are spurs leading to parks and temples along the way. It spit us out right near the Great Buddha, which is Kamakura's big draw. There were some American delegates there making thoroughly inappropriate jokes to their Japanese diplomat hosts about the size and shape of Buddha's ears. Really made me swell with pride (again) to be from the US. Let's just say I did NOT return their 'am I right fellow Westerner?' smiles. 0 points for those dudes.
Anyway, this Buddha is RAD:
After lunch and Kamakura's special ice cream (purple potato flavored) we headed to the Hasedera temple. Though not as sublime and serene as the first temple, this one has its own merits: beach views, a winding multi-caved cave, and a million tiny Buddhas. Though I am admittedly claustrophobic, the series of "rooms" inside the cave, which were full of carvings, alters and statues was awesome. And I only almost freaked out, like, one time. Which, considering we couldn't stand up straight was pretty remarkable.
The last stop on our walk from one end of town to the other was the beach. Kamakura is a well known surfing spot and the locals have become accordingly obsessed with all things Hawaiian. There are hula schools, board shops, a taco stand, and plenty of grungy pick ups on display in tribute to prevailing surf culture. Gnarly.
There are about a bazillion more temples and other important artifacts to see in Kamakura. But it was nice to leave feeling like the town merited a return trip. Plus, we learned a valuable lesson about day trip destinations. To recap, a perfect day trip requires the following elements:
- Seats on the train in both directions
- A linear journey through the destination with no retrodden ground
- At least one specialty food item that doesn't make me ralph
- Something spiritual for learning but also very pretty for looking at
- Hiking that is hard enough to justify eating said specialty food but not so hard that we don't have enough energy left for spirituality
- Beaches
- Fake Hawaiian culture*
*optional
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Helpful hints from Kellogg's Japan
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
There's one perfect fit and sugar this one is it...
Hanging with Molly & Andrew has been the best evs. Being downstairs neighbors is super fun and also extremely convenient. There doesn't have to be a lot of plan making when any of us can pop up or down for a 20 minute cruise through facebook and glass of wine.
Its also been super crazy nice for Ed and I to let go of the reigns a little and be led around a city. We have a lot of months of research and planning under our belts, and a lot to come. But for these few weeks, its great to have someone else say "here are some cool options for today."
So, quicky overviews of radical neighborhoods we probably would have missed without our hostess with the mostestest.
Shimokitazawa - the 4 of us had humongous burgers accompanied by humongous beers and meandered the streets our first weekend here. Every ilk of food nerd seems to have a staked a claim in this hood, so Ed felt among kin-folk. There's the artisanal egg people, the insane-o barista guy, the organic donut folks... Plus a ton of great vintage stores, design shops and boutiques, and one thousand fab looking restaurants nestled in a warren of windy, pretty streets. When we go back on our own we will definitely be lost, but we're looking forward to it.
Naka-meguro - Molly took us here one hung over Sunday afternoon and we ended up having a "snack" (you guys know with Ed there's really no such thing) and wondering along the Meguro river until after dark. High-end independent shops and twinkly cafes are sprinkled along the river, which is apparently the happs during cherry blossom season. Seemingly every time Ed and I go on a long walk we run into Naka-meguro. Which I wouldn't mind at all, except that the stores there are like kryptonite. One boutique, in particular, hocks high end denim and one-of-a-kind, hand trimmed, quilted jackets lined with shearling. I refrained from crying on them only so I could stay in the store and keep touching. You know, I'm trying to be fulfilled without material things these days, just enjoying my tech weave. Which is really working out great.
Koenji - Just yesterday, the 3 of us headed to Koenji for lunch and wandering. Koenji may be the neighborhood where punk rock is at its most relevant; there is no shortage of live music clubs, hard rock bars, and the requisite stores selling stretchy plaid pants and studded things. The good townsfolk seemingly try to counterbalance the scene by piping bouncy music sung by children into the streets through speakers mounted on the lamp posts.
Since Ed and I hadn't yet experienced the taco rice phenomenon, Molly took us to the twee-est, cutest of tree houses to enjoy it. Taco rice comes on a large plate and is composed of the following layers (bottom to top): rice, ground beef, shredded cabbage, scrambled egg, cheese, salsa, tomatoes, mayo, avocado, heart attack, deliciousness. There's green stuff, so it was counted as salad to justify the stop we made at the independent donut shop in post. We ate one dipped in burnt caramel that was so mind-blowing I momentarily thought about burning my Mister Donut frequent fatty card. Alas, cooler heads prevailed. Koenji's motto should be: your diet isn't welcome here. Or: We love the Clash.
Kichijōji - aka kookygeorgey, because I can't remember the name ever. This area has all the hipsterosity of the others but also a huge, beautiful park, and obscenely good lighting. There's a big lake with swan boats, a couple of temples, a scary clown making balloon animals, and a LOT of cute dogs for me to harass. We also hit a roof bar there around sun set, a rare phenomenon in a place where people haven't really latched on to the outdoor bar concept.
The time is absolutely flying, but we're having a blast. We both are so excited 'cuz we're reunited hey-hey.
Its also been super crazy nice for Ed and I to let go of the reigns a little and be led around a city. We have a lot of months of research and planning under our belts, and a lot to come. But for these few weeks, its great to have someone else say "here are some cool options for today."
So, quicky overviews of radical neighborhoods we probably would have missed without our hostess with the mostestest.
Shimokitazawa - the 4 of us had humongous burgers accompanied by humongous beers and meandered the streets our first weekend here. Every ilk of food nerd seems to have a staked a claim in this hood, so Ed felt among kin-folk. There's the artisanal egg people, the insane-o barista guy, the organic donut folks... Plus a ton of great vintage stores, design shops and boutiques, and one thousand fab looking restaurants nestled in a warren of windy, pretty streets. When we go back on our own we will definitely be lost, but we're looking forward to it.
Naka-meguro - Molly took us here one hung over Sunday afternoon and we ended up having a "snack" (you guys know with Ed there's really no such thing) and wondering along the Meguro river until after dark. High-end independent shops and twinkly cafes are sprinkled along the river, which is apparently the happs during cherry blossom season. Seemingly every time Ed and I go on a long walk we run into Naka-meguro. Which I wouldn't mind at all, except that the stores there are like kryptonite. One boutique, in particular, hocks high end denim and one-of-a-kind, hand trimmed, quilted jackets lined with shearling. I refrained from crying on them only so I could stay in the store and keep touching. You know, I'm trying to be fulfilled without material things these days, just enjoying my tech weave. Which is really working out great.
Koenji - Just yesterday, the 3 of us headed to Koenji for lunch and wandering. Koenji may be the neighborhood where punk rock is at its most relevant; there is no shortage of live music clubs, hard rock bars, and the requisite stores selling stretchy plaid pants and studded things. The good townsfolk seemingly try to counterbalance the scene by piping bouncy music sung by children into the streets through speakers mounted on the lamp posts.
Since Ed and I hadn't yet experienced the taco rice phenomenon, Molly took us to the twee-est, cutest of tree houses to enjoy it. Taco rice comes on a large plate and is composed of the following layers (bottom to top): rice, ground beef, shredded cabbage, scrambled egg, cheese, salsa, tomatoes, mayo, avocado, heart attack, deliciousness. There's green stuff, so it was counted as salad to justify the stop we made at the independent donut shop in post. We ate one dipped in burnt caramel that was so mind-blowing I momentarily thought about burning my Mister Donut frequent fatty card. Alas, cooler heads prevailed. Koenji's motto should be: your diet isn't welcome here. Or: We love the Clash.
Kichijōji - aka kookygeorgey, because I can't remember the name ever. This area has all the hipsterosity of the others but also a huge, beautiful park, and obscenely good lighting. There's a big lake with swan boats, a couple of temples, a scary clown making balloon animals, and a LOT of cute dogs for me to harass. We also hit a roof bar there around sun set, a rare phenomenon in a place where people haven't really latched on to the outdoor bar concept.
The time is absolutely flying, but we're having a blast. We both are so excited 'cuz we're reunited hey-hey.
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