Sons of Loki

Following the conclusion of my mid-term exam, I decided to hit Tokyo again. Of course, all too soon, going to Tokyo will be a lot more difficult than hopping on the Keio Line from Tobitakyu station, and words like “Semi-Special Express” and “Keio West Entrance” will be distant memories – like a dream, even.

I hit my usual places in Shinjuku – a few rounds of Beatmania IIDX and Drummania (the latter I’m getting better at, the former I fail hugely at), the game store where I never buy anything (I only go back because I saw Drummania for sale there once, but didn’t buy it, and now I regret it) – then thought I’d check out this exhibition at the Tokyo Museum of Modern Art in Chiyoda, something about architecture that I’d read an article about in Metropolis.

Regrettably, it turned out to be closed on Mondays, but no worries: instead I enjoyed a relaxing stroll around the perimeter of the Imperial Palace, which is closed to plebs like me.
After a quick burger and a bit of kanji study in a Ginza Lotteria (about the least classy meal you can have in ultra-classy Ginza) I came to Tokyo Station (probably my favourite station in all of Tokyo; an important hub like Shinjuku, but not as inhuman and impersonal) and wound up, like I so often do, back on the streets of New York City, a dope fiend, a slave, then prison; then the madhouse; then the grave Akihabara.

Ah, I’ll miss that fucking place (I imagine in decades to come, travel guides to Tokyo will open the section on Akihabara with a quote from me along those lines). The hobby stores. The bizarre proliferation of home security stalls. The game shops, of course; the myriad electronics meccas, the maid cafes, the KFC, the Coco Curryhouse; the corner which valiantly tries to ignore the rest of the place by having trendy cafes and a Muji and a pâtisserie but lets the side down by including a (ridiculously popular) Gundam Cafe; the streets and alleys which I shamefully know like the back of my hand.

In Yodobashi Camera I listened to their hi-fi equipment, because I’ve got it into my head that, as a music-loving nerd, my room next year will not be complete without some big-ass floorstanding speakers and the cheapest best-sounding amplifier I can buy (probably the Q Acoustics 1030is and an amp from the Cambridge Audio Topaz range at the moment, he says, pretending he knows something about hi-fi systems). I thought I spied a bargain on a Marantz amp, but it turns out I can get it cheaper in the UK and it’s a bit pants anyway, so that saves me posting a 7kg amplifier back home.

So. 東京、また逢う日まで (until we meet again, Tokyo)…

Man, what a crazy week!

Actually, nothing has really happened. I ran out of food and money. I felt guilty for not attending the school festival. I met Rob in Shinjuku and he bought some speakers and I shopped around for a PS2 and a copy of Beatmania but decided spending overdraft on games consoles would be something I would regret when I wanted to buy food to eat. And I returned to Nikko, probably two years to the day if I could be bothered to look up dates.

Fran and I traversed Tokyo to reach Asakusa to catch the 0900 train to Nikko. Obviously we got there on time to discover that we couldn’t get the Spacia limited express with our ticket and had to get the regular Rapid, which meant we got there an hour after we were supposed to meet Katy and Rob. Luckily for us, they were late too. Anyway, Nikko hadn’t changed a bit. It persisted in being very cold, with a kind of ski town feel according to Fran. I found myself with fond memories of the train station where I once sat reading Alain de Botton’s Consolations of Philosophy. (I cannot think of a way to word that sentence that does not make me sound like a pretentious arse.)

We caught a crowded bus up to the shrines, where we joined the crowds of tourists to walk around and go “ooh” at things.

So after seeing Rob and Katy for all of an hour, they had to rush off for a free buffet thingy, while Fran and I walked back to Nikko (we were going to take the bus, but the driver apparently forgot to open the doors to let us on and drove off, so we walked, but it was pleasant anyway). The plan was to meet Katy and Rob at Edomura Wonderland, a theme park (with ninjas! the promotional pamphlet was eager to explain) but we’d missed the last bus there, or the last train, or there wasn’t a bus, delete as appropriate depending on which official you spoke to. So we had some ramen, and it was extremely pleasant to slurp noodles in a warm restaurant while gazing out at the cold beauty of Nikko outside the window.




On the way back we got the wrong train, of course, and spent twenty minutes shuttling back and forth on the subway before we could even think about beginning the hour-long journey home, but c’est la Tokio.