From Niigata we catch the bullet to Tokyo, passing snow clad mountains and many tiny farms.
Big improvement weather wise from our inward journey. The elegant old Tokyo Station is visible from our hotel, so we can’t get lost here. Can we?
We lashed out to hire a guide for 6 hours. A lovely young mother of two, Yuka speaks perfect English, knows her city, and we have a whirlwind of alleys, fish market, subways and an old park.
In the middle of a major metropolis, the park struggles to compete with some of the more regional ones we’ve seen, but still manages to produce cherry blossoms and carefully manicured eye-scapes.
In an open area, hundreds of plastic markers are being laid out to control queues expected for the afternoon brief baby panda viewing. Poor panda, patient patrons.
Nothing to her, Yuko walks deceptively quickly, and I wonder how she can take such long steps. We go through the very old and soon to be relocated fish markets, the biggest in Japan, where motorized trolleys driven by formula-1 drivers hurtle around the congested walkways.
Authentic sushi for lunch – every item delicious.
Then through a maze of narrow streets and old buildings. Everything clean and neat. So many people.
Left to our own devices the next day we succeed in getting lost, but delightfully so, in the centre of this busy city. Navigation technique…let’s go this way, that way, every way, look at it all, then when weary grab a cab home.
Tomorrow it’s back to Oz, and we’ll see how Cyclone Iris treated us.
JOHN BELL BOOKS 