I didn’t have any particularly onerous plans for Sunday, deciding I needed a bit of rest from the monomaniacal museum mission, so I was hanging around a bit in the morning. The Australian guy came down just as I was packing up my computer to head out. I had met him the other night when I was drinking a beer outside the hostel. He had just landed in Tokyo with a JR Pass burning a hole in his pocket, but decided to stick around an extra day (or two) before shooting down to Hiroshima. He had gone to the festival at Sensoji, which the French girl whom I haven’t mentioned yet made a special trip about. He reiterated pretty much everything she had told me the last night. Very crowded, lots of energy, amazing experience, exciting to watch a large group of people carry an altar around. The videos and pictures shown to me didn’t convince me to go add it to my plans. Anyways, the Australian guy also talked about how he randomly met some Japanese people at the festival and went out drinking with them for a couple hours in hole-in-the-wall izakayas. Lucky him.
I went over to a Denny’s–yes, Japan has Denny’s, it’s insane–for a spot of “Sunday brunch.” The breakfast sets were reasonably priced but pretty a pretty awful simulation of American food. One slice of limp bacon, one tiny sausage, scrambled eggs (which were good), a salad (for some reason), and a pancakes instead of toast (that’s a nice bonus). The coffee was served in the tiniest mug, and when I saw the massive mugs used to serve lattes to the table next to me, I was seriously like wtf about the situation. One of the waitresses did come by once proactively to add a little coffee via pipette.
Deciding Denny’s wasn’t really a good place to while away an hour on my computer, I returned to the hostel before setting out for the day. I took my backpack with my computer and headed over to Shinjuku. I had discovered there were two museums in my Grutto pass in the area, but got off the subway a couple stations early in order to walk through the heart of Shinjuku. There was a shrine mentioned in the Lonely Planet with a Sunday flea market, so I went a whole 50 meters out of my way to take a gander. There was, in fact, a bit of a flea market going on, though there were no more than 8 vendors with their “modern antiques” and various other curiosities laid out. All of the visitors were white and I didn’t loiter.
I zigzaged my way over to the Metropolitan Government Building, which has a free observatory on a top floor. There was quite a queue to get in the elevator going up, but I made good use of my time by reviewing Japanese on my phone. I noticed that the two whities in front of me were in deep conversation with a Japanese girl. It’s strange, I have been noticing more and more that foreign tourists all seem to have their own personal Japanese tour guides hanging out with them. I wonder if I smell bad or something.
Though the air quality monitor said that pollution levels were at record lows, the horizon was hidden by a bit of haze. At least, Mt Fuji was not viewable, though it can reportedly be seen on a clear day. The line for the elevator to go down was quicker. Of course, I stopped to look at some memorabilia for the 2020 Tokyo Olympics in the atrium. It’s funny how I seem to “just” miss all the Olympics (which seriously are always in Asia these days): Beijing in 2008, Pyeongchang in 2018, Tokyo in 2020, Beijing again in 2022.
I finally headed over to the two target museums, which are both housed in a building called Opera City (there was a ticket counter for symphony performances, so I guess it wasn’t a misnomer), only stopping twice to try ATMs. I’m getting increasingly worried about the cash situation, and spent some time researching ATMs in Japan which can accept chip-based bank cards. The tip was to try Aeon Bank. Still, no luck.
The Art Gallery in the Tokyo Opera City was quite interesting. The main exhibition was a video by an American artist who recreated a Japanese tea ceremony with all the sort of bricabrac that modern artists use to build “sculptures.” After watching the video, all the sets and props were laid out in the galleries for us to examine up close. The permanent collection (a donated private collection) was fine, but what was most interesting is that the final hallway was a showcase for child artists. Seeing the juxtaposition of a few abstract expressionist paintings (which how many critics complain that their children could do?) followed by actual paintings by children really highlight how bullshit that complaint is.
I was getting pretty hungry so I headed down to the basement to peruse the food court. I went for a sandwich at Subways, and I feel good about that decision. It was a little pricey (especially as I somehow know the advertisement jingle “five dollar foot longs” despite a ten year American media diet), but I got the most “Japanese” sandwich imaginable–teriyaki chicken with soy sauce and wasabi as the dressing. Maybe I should have gone for the avocado sandwich.
The NTT-InterCommunicationCenter was amazing. Unfortunately, the present exhibition was free admission regardless of my Grutto Pass, so I don’t get to tally any additional savings there. There wasn’t a lot of “art” on display, but everything was multimedia and interactive. A lot of it eludes description, but I was blown away by some of the stuff in there.
Finished with the museums, I was prepared to spend the afternoon in the park, though I needed to swing by a grocery store to pick up a drink and some snacks. It wasn’t a far walk to this giant wooded park, which was mostly the grounds of the Shinto Shrine as well as a martial arts dojo. Groups of people were out practicing their staff work or archery. I found a space on a lawn amidst dozens of picnickers, laid out my sheets, and took a nap. When I woke up, and was snacking on some potato chips and a Dr. Pepper, I noticed a loudspeaker announcement saying that these were sacred grounds and all forms of recreation are forbidden. No one seemed the least bit fazed. Sure, there is a temple somewhere in the woods, but it might as well be a million miles away.
Getting restless, or feeling a little guilty, I packed up to walk around and actually see the Meiji Shrine. It was packed with tourists, and as I entered one of the side gates, I stumbled across a wedding procession. I felt bad that everyone had their phones out recording. Having entered via a backway, I exited through the main entrance. A section of the path is flanked by a wall of sake jars and a wall of Bordeaux barrels all donated for consecration purposes or something like that. Shintoism is weird.
The park I was really looking for is adjacent but not connected, so after swinging around on the streetside, I found the real party. The concentration of picnickers was ten times as dense, street performers staked out their corners, and merriment filled the air. Without even doing a loop of the garden, I decided I might want some refreshments of a more adult nature, but shied away from buying slightly marked up but still reasonably priced beer from the official snack carts. My stinginess was actually a good thing, as I crossed a pedestrian bridge heading south out of the park right into the middle of a street music festival where various stages competed for one’s attention while people were seriously pounding down alcohol.
I carried on to a 7-11 to restock and passed back through the street festival. I could have stopped there, but since I had a picnic blanket, I would prefer to lay on the grass than stand around or sit on a concrete bench. Heading back into the park, the only issue was were to stake my claim. Ideally, I would be near other drinkers so that would maximize my chance of socializing, but ultimately I picked a nice partially shady spot next to a pond with a pair of fountains. I drank in peace and quiet, enjoying nature and meditating on life. I found contentment in my solitude and didn’t mind the gusts of wind or occasional stray rain drops.
After the sun fell behind the trees, I decided to leave the park. As I walked in a state of satori, I noticed that I must have been moving very slowly because people were constantly overtaking me. It didn’t perturb me, and I continued to hold on to the state of perfect awareness. The neighborhoods to the east of the park, Harajuke, are well-known as a fashionable shopping paradise. Figuring, I might as well check off another item from the list of Tokyo “sites”, I grabbed a roadie from a Family Mart and continued to ride the wind up and down the streets with various boutique retailers.
Reaching the next subway stop, I alighted to return to my neighborhood. Despite all the snacking, I figured I still might need a proper dinner, so I popped into a Coco’s Curry House and tried a hashed beef (hayashi rice). I still prefer curry, but figured it was good to mix it up.
Back in the hostel, I got into a conversation with a Canadian digital nomad. It was more like an interview because he kept asking questions and I chattered away about myself despite a few feeble attempts to steer the conversation away from me. Getting thirsty, I ordered a drink from the bar, finally having Japanese sake (first time this trip). It was properly served with the glass overflowing into a saucer that catches the extra sake. We continued talking for a while, but the sunlight and alcohol were quickly catching up on me. After losing the fight against the yawns, I begged his pardon and retired for the night.
| Denny’s | 592 |
| Subway | 486 |
| Snacks | 373 |
| Ice Cream (Ministop Peach softee) | 120 |
| 7-Eleven booze and peanuts | 633 |
| Family Mart drink | 207 |
| Hashed Beef | 629 |
| Sake | 300 |
| Total: | 3340 JPY (213.76 RMB) (USD 30.97) |
Running Total: 35013.5 RMB (USD 5072.8)
Daily Average: 312.6 RMB (USD 45.29)
So, the Grutto Pass only got me free admission into one museum, but it was an expensive one valued at 1400 yen.