tumble, tumble, japan

Being back in Tokyo after some ten weeks feels a little like coming home. Only home it is not, but there is a comfortable sense of familiarity and I did not have to check any map or ask for directions to get to my hostel. Knowing where you are going with luggage can never be overrated.

Yesterday was meant to be lazy to compensate for the long and slightly overexciting journey from Sapporo. But, I was quite happy to be back in Tokyo and so hopped off to Ueno after depositing my stuff. Ameyoko felt like Chinatown during Chinese New Year, except without bah-kwa and with piles and piles of tako and crabs instead. Ah. I miss bah-kwa.

Anyway, Kangaroo Hotel is by far the cleanest hostel I have ever stayed in in Japan. Hands down. The best interior decor as well. Hmm, then again, its concept is more like a business hotel rather than a hostel. Seriously, hostels here are not worth the dough. (Some may draw attention to the so-called benefit of a more social environment, but that same social environment is usually comprised of just two or three overly chatty tourists with exceptionally loud voices.)

The weather is nice. Not a peep of snow in sight, and I am quite relieved about that. It feels more like autumn here, and the temperature lingers in the 10-15 range instead of the -5-0 range. Encouraged by the forecast and yesterday’s outing, I decided to forgo the winter jacket and long pants, opting for two thinner jackets and leggings instead. Bad idea. Let me introduce me to winds.

The city was exceptionally windy today. Sure, the sun was shining so prettily up there; but if the wind blows, it is best to be wearing long pants. Lesson learnt, and tomorrow, the scarf and hat will also be back in active duty.

Today: Shinjuku, Shimokitazawa and Shibuya. The SSSes. I planned for Odaiba, but having alighted at Shimbashi and gotten a taste of the chilly breezes, I decided that visiting somewhere near the sea was not particularly a wise thing to do. Also, I really wanted to do some shopping. After weeks of deprivation, I damn well deserve to spend some money.

That said, Christmas shopping is kinda fun after Christmas. No pressure, and so many sales!

Number of photos taken: 1.

Also, The Book Thief was wonderfully satisfying. Finished it at lunch (couldn’t resist; last chapter!). My seafood paella wasn’t that good, but the book was the one that got me teary-eyed. How can a book that reveals its ending way before it ends still be so devastating? Ahh.

Next: book #13, Paul Auster’s New York Trilogy.