Having decided to have a lie-in we did a good job and were still not quite ready when Helen had a frustrating encounter with the cleaner at just gone one. No amount of words or gestures could convince the cleaner, who had ignored the "do not disturb" sign for long enough, that we would be gone in half an hour. She resorted to phoning reception who may or may not have understood but at least the cleaner went away.
An overcast day, so we decided to go visit the Imperial Palace for the rest of the afternoon then mooch around Rappongi, the Tokyo Soho, in the evening. At the ground we realised we'd forgotten our rain jackets but fear of the cleaner made us press on without. We whizzed around on the subway to Tokyo station then round the corner to the Imperial Palace where it started to rain. It was a bit stop start for the rest of the afternoon, nipping about the palace gardens in between the drizzly outbursts. The funny thing is that you can't see any of the Imperial Palace itself, it's very well hidden away, however you do get to wander round the gardens which are encased in impressively engineered stone walls even if the gardens themselves aren't too exciting.
After much wandering we headed off for a nearby railway metro station stopping for coffee and passing through some of the Tokyo suburbs. One remarkable thing of this city is the profusion of overhead cabling. Better than digging up the roads, I suppose. Arriving at a station near Roppongi we diverted into a bookshop and browsed a little before emerging into rain. Hmm. Back down into the cafe. Like Seoul, Tokyo has a lot of underground, particularly near stations, shopping malls. A Lonely Planet in the bookshop suggested that Ikebukuro station, outside our hotel window, is one of the busiest in Japan. That sounds about right.
Post coffee, we headed out but it was still raining. No good, so we headed back to Ikebukuro. Roppongi in the rain (without raincoats) didn't appeal. We came out of the wrong exit at Ikebukuro, on the far side of the tracks from our hotel but it was no less tourist unfriendly. There's a strong fashion for shops to use English names which seductively draws us close before everything is in Japanese. I guess that's why we went on far reaching journeys when I was in Tokyo on business to find English friendly restaurants. After twenty minutes in the drizzle we found a curry house and tucked in. Let's just eat!
said Helen.
Time enough to fiddle on the Internet with our free vouchers. It seems I was a naughty boy in Australia, caught speeding by the authorities. You can just make out a head over the top of the headrest. Unlikely to be Helen, then. Afterwards we tried asking how much the Internet cost to use but they kept referring to the vouchers. No amount of gesturing helped which leads me to believe the Japanese have a different mental model and therefore symbolism for communication. Helen tried asking at reception, where they do speak a few words of English, but got a cost breakdown of the room charge. Time for a beer.
Dai Ichi Inn Hotel, Ikebukuro, Tokyo N35.73201 E139.71260 Elev. 72m
Copyright 2003 Ian Fitchet. All rights reserved.