And since my little red boots had done so well the day before, I naturally elected to wear different shoes out. I chose a pair of black leather (also waterproofed) boots with leather soles and a medium heel.
By the time we got to the metro, my feet hurt.
I was too hot in my "rainy day" outerwear.
And I had again awoken at 4:30am.
I had trouble deciding where I wanted to be in the city. and so dragged us from one neighborhood to another, in the rain.
I looked through my notes and emails from friends who had suggested areas and sights of interest. We settled on Naka-Meguro where I was advised not to take it on first impression out of the station, but to explore the smaller side streets.
I had a meltdown a block from the metro station under the overpass. Hot. Tired. Grumpy. Perplexed. Frustrated. Feeling failed and disappointing as a navigator and a guide, I crouched on the pavement, hanging on to the cool metal guardrail and worked on clearing my head and pulling it together.
Ten minutes later, with some encouragement and a positivity he likely did not feel, Kirk convinced me that we should try to focus ourselves by walking along the riverfront (really more of a creek).
The way was lined with cherry trees, some still flowering, and dappled with boutiques and wee cafes. While we are too large for most of the clothes here in Japan, I felt hopeful that I could find some new shoes. The search for footwear that was 8.5ish, flattish, and waterproof, was afoot.... so to speak.
 |
| Photo taken a bit later, post-meltdown recovery |
We tried a lot of shops. Many lovely and patient merchants scanned their stock for giant shoes in the size and style I requested.
I felt like I was in a scene from a contemporary Cinderella story with lots of shoes and a single pair of feet.
No. no. no. no. almost. egads. no. no. $900. nope. uh-uh. WAIT!
I thought...perhaps mens shoes would work, but they were all too wide.
And then... and THEN... I found a perfect pair (and chose the navy blue over the appealing red) of knee-high, heel-less rainboots with padded insoles AND>>>> AND>>>>>> they are collapsible and can fit into a regular-sized shoe box. (and only $48! AND made in Japan!) New. Travel. Rainboots!
In the words of Borat: GREAT SUCCESS!
I wore them out of the shop and the day picked up dramatically from there.
We had a snack of edamame, avocado, mozzarella balls and shandy. ('Cause they had it, and so why not?)
We strolled some more.
We picked up a trinket or two.
And everybody lived to return to the hotel.
Dinner that evening was supposed to be special. When in Tokyo for a friend's 40th in 2009, we had dined at a glorious shabu-shabu restaurant. I have photos and some recollection of extraordinary food on a terrific, friend-filled night, but zero idea of where it was, how we got there, or the name of the place (until I was reminded in one of the aforementioned emails). Masuya.
I had the concierge make reservations for us while we were out.
Returning to her desk, she apprised us of the situation. Our reservations were made as requested, she said, but the restaurant feels very nervous about us because we speak no Japanese and they have no English menus. But, they do have menus with pictures.
Ok. We can make it work.
Because of the rain (and likely my behavior in it) we taxied to the restaurant. Got lost leaving the taxi. Were redirected by the driver who left his cab and chased us down the wrong street. Found the restaurant and were ushered in to a totally empty room with a single set table in the corner.
An elderly waitress in kimono did her best to help us. Between the 3 of us, we managed to communicate that:
-we could show her what we'd like if we could see a picture, or plastic food model ... Neither exist at this restaurant. Further evidence that they don't cater to tourists, which I appreciate in spite of being hungry and little stressed.
-we wanted 2 beers and waters to drink ("beer" being one of a dozen words I know in Japanese)
-we understood that this is a shabu-shabu restaurant
-we wanted to be seated upstairs (where I had been seated my previous visit, and from where we could hear liveliness and revelry from other diners), but it was not allowed.
-She wasn't going to be able to coax any proper words out of us.
Nuriko (I did exchange names with her in an effort to seem somewhat warm and civilized), eventually took charge and we were managed in a loving and gentle, yet efficient manner... like you might help a toddler. She didn't baby-bird feed us exactly, but short of regurgitating food and putting it into our mouths, we were aided.
 |
| Our waitress/savior, Nuriko |
 |
| Veg, tofu and rice cakes |
 |
| "ushi", tender and flavorful enough to eat raw |
She brought us the raw ingredients and showed us how to manage them all, we stepped up. Like a proud mother, she applauded when I mimicked her and strained the meat scum off the top of the water. She hastened and paused us when we allowed items to cook for the wrong amount of time. But over all, I would call the meal a success.
The Ushi beef was thinly sliced and heavily marbled and succulent. The accompanying plate contained: dandelion greens, glass noodles, cabbage, crimini mushrooms, cubes of firm fleshy tofu, and some kind of starchy mochi cake which required significant rehydration, and was chewy and gluey.
When we had cooked and eaten the contents of both plates, Nuriko brought some flat rice noodles and cooked them in the broth that our shabu-shabu water had become. She meted out noodles and broth to us in small cups. (This was extremely delicious!)
For dessert we were each given a small ball of strawberry ice milk. Light and refreshing and creamy cool.
As we gathered ourselves to leave, Nuriko fretted and insisted on calling a taxi for us. She gave us two small stone turtles as gifts and showed us how and when to polish them. "They're chopstick rests", she pantomimed.
Once home, we watched wacky Japanese game shows and commercials on tv until we were sleepy.
***
Why have I included this day of vulnerability and petulance in the travelogue for you to read? I suppose it feels more honest to show you that in spite of my eagerness to try new things and go new places, I sometimes have terrible moments. Times when I feel frayed and fed up and I act out in ways that aren't really funny or interesting at all.
Some of you asked me why I described this as a more "difficult" trip when we were heading to a cosmopolitan region with clean water, mild weather, safe transit and food flavors I like. The challenge of this trip for me has a lot to do with my utter illiteracy here in Japan. Not only can I not recognize most of the words or letters... I cannot even recognize or find the addresses. Numbers. Street signs are often absent or hard to find. If I plan out a route or agenda in advance for minimal frustration down the line... a wrench in the works throws me farther afield than it otherwise might.
There are pros and cons to starting a Japan trip in Tokyo.
On the plus side, there is good infrastructure for tourists, a good quantity of people speak some English and they are happy to help out. Easy to fly in directly. And great public transportation.
The flip side of beginning a visit in Tokyo (at least for me) is that you start off at an 11 in terms of intensity and it is easy to become over-stimulated and short circuit yourself. This while your bio-rhythm is off kilter.
I have another day writing itself in my mind for you, but today we are on a journey to the northwest of the country, through Nagoya to the town of Takayama. While typing this to you my vista has changed from skyscrapers and dramatic structures, to green mountains dotted with clusters of pale pink cherry blossoms, open agricultural spaces, a river of jade-colored water, and 1 or 2-story homes with traditional tile roofs in shades of brown or green. Moss-covered stone tunnels and terraced hillsides. Quaint bridges. And if a young boy in short pants were to run excitedly next to the train while clutching a red balloon on a stick... it wouldn't be out of place.
Being in a less metropolitan area will surely have its challenges too. What would be the fun if it didn't?
No comments:
Post a Comment