追伸 - Postscript

But then what happened?!

Goodbye Kiss

Okay; it's been over a week since we returned from Japan, and I figured it was time to get the last Japan related post done. This one includes travel home pictures, as well as a map highlighting a number of the places we went and even routes we took to go to them. That last morning in Japan was a sad one, and we still miss Tokyo very much. We took as long as we thought we could get away with in the room. Watching out the window, even as a window washing gantry went by. The person wasn't in front of our window, but we weren't, thankfully, putting on any kind of show anyway. It was, however, thanks to the gantry cables that we noticed how cool Mount Fuji looked during the day too.

Mount Fuji, seen during the day, from our hotel room

Chopsticks with coins attached

As it approached checkout time, we gathered our bags, and headed down to the lobby, for the last time. As we walked through the hall, and on the elevator we recounted some pleasurable thoughts from our trip, such as the Japanese woman in the elevator that held the door for The Art Girl and said (with an accent), "Hurry up you!" Then there was when I bought a bunch of stuff at 7-Eleven to bring back (some for then, some for later) and the woman said, "Ooh, you hungry?" I can only imagine how strange we must have been to them. Wandering around, taking pictures of the strangest things, laughing at things that don't seem very funny, whooping it up looking at all the latest trends for Japanese teenagers, and unnaturally belting out "Ohayo gozaimas!" (Good morning!) when strolling into a store. How funny my 'American accent' must have been when I spoke to them in Japanese, but it seemed to delight them that I tried anyway.

After checkout, I broke my last ¥10,000 note down into various bills, but mostly into coins. I had a plan for adorning some of the gifts I bought with coins attached using silk cord. Plus, the designs, colors, and textures of the coins were really interesting, and it felt more worthwhile if they came from Japan, rather than a local currency exchange. We also picked up some more of those delicious macaroons, from the hotel, to give as gifts.

From the car en route to the airport

Still with another hour before our ride was due to pick us up for the airport, we sat in the lobby and watched the people around us. It was fun seeing the faces of fresh arrivals still awestruck by their first exposure to Japan and its people. One group, in particular, appeared to be from somewhere in Europe, perhaps Denmark, was milling about in the lobby taking in everything. Watching them we wished that was us, at the beginning of our trip, not the end, but we wouldn't trade our experiences and memories for anything. Before our reflection could go on too long, our transportation arrived and quickly rushed us into their vehicle, and promptly reminded us of how bad traffic is around Tokyo.

The ride to Narita International Airport took an hour and a half, and we took a few pictures along the way. Our ride from Narita a week prior was at night, so this time we got to see more on the route. Not unlike back home, it looked a lot like driving along any freeway; businesses, industrial areas, parks, et al. lined the roadway. The Art Girl and I spent most of this time with our own thoughts.

Here are some of the pictures that turned out the best from our ride:

Wowow!

Static picture of the interactive map (link to right)

The interactive map I put together includes the location of many of the photos seen in this blog, as well as some of the more regular or significant walking routes we used in Shinjuku, Shibuya, Harajuku, and Tokyo Dome City. You can access the map by clicking here: https://mapsengine.google.com/map/edit?mid=zOUun-OLazCw.k4akRE8dtvXA

On arrival to Narita, we gathered our bags, and bid our drivers farewell (there were two, presumably one was either in training, or was there because she spoke better English than the actual driver). A quick exchange of 'arigato' and a couple bows later we were treading into the building. The look was fairly similar to what we're used to at O'Hare in Chicago; most signs included English, and there were check-in kiosks lined up. Unfortunately, however, we had not done the online check-in and didn't have our e-ticket numbers, so we found someone to help us figure out where to go. Just a few steps from the entrance there were other people to help people get checked in.

Last minute shopping? But of course!

Check-in, again, was routine and not unlike back home, except my luggage had gained a significant amount of weight on vacation (like I'm sure I did as well). Fortunately my overweight bag was only a few kilograms high, and they gave us the opportunity to try and balance the weight between my bag and The Art Girl's. Her bag, however, while well under the weight limit, was very tightly packed and had little room to provide. Most of the filling in mine was clothes, so I removed a few articles at a time, and re-weighed my bag while The Art Girl tried to stuff more and more into her bag, with us both eventually adding a few pieces to our carry-on luggage as well. Eventually we got there, and finished our check-in process.

From the bag check, and after a quick stop at the restroom, I started to think about the immigration process. That's when I remembered our embarkation cards that they needed to match us up with the emigration records. "Where was that card," I thought to myself while waiting for The Art Girl to meet back up with me. I started going through my bag and wallet, but couldn't find it anywhere. With me still digging through my belongings, The Art Girl returned, and wondered what I was looking for. After explaining what I was looking for and trying to impart why I was getting panicky, she started looking through her stuff as well.

What felt like a long time passed during all the digging and stressing when The Art Girl asked, "Is it that thing they stapled in our passports?" My mind reeled and I quickly pulled out my passport. Sure enough, there it was, neatly stapled in place. I felt the muscles in my body begin to relax, but I had stressed myself out enough that just resolving the issue wasn't going to be enough. We needed to get through security, and find somewhere that we could get a drink.

Thus, onward to security we went. The whole process was, again, very similar to in the US, except you don't have to remove your shoes, and you feel a little more like a human and less like an animal. You do, however, have to pull out your tablets and phones similar to a laptop, which is worse when you're The Geek and have two tablets, two phones, and a laptop, but not insurmountable. We experienced no issues or delays at security and proceeded to emigration, where again, it was smooth and easy. I tried expressing a humorous thought on thinking I had lost my embarkation card, and while polite, the woman at emigration didn't seem terribly amused, or more likely didn't really follow my string of English sentiment.

Waiting at the gate

Now, technically no longer in Japan, it was time to explore the duty free shops and get something to eat. We had over an hour before our plane boarded, so there was no rush. Just in case you were wondering, the duty free shops are no bargain. Everything costs basically the same, it's just that the store keeps the difference. Plus, being after security and emigration, they know you're a captive audience (just like home). We spotted an awesome pare of ninja shoes (ninja booties as we call them) and almost bought them, but ¥38,000 was just too much.

The food court was fairly busy, and we were at that point of hungry where the first stall was where we ordered (hot ham & cheese and a BLT). Since we were running low on Japanese currency, we did at least take the time to order carefully enough to have enough yen left over for two beers (mine a dark Japanese ale, and The Art Girl's a lager). To further punctuate our state, once the food was ready, I brought it back to our table, and at the same time we each picked up a half of our sandwiches, took a bite, realized we had our sandwiches reversed, set them down, and passed our plates across. It was pretty funny looking back on the synchronization of our actions. Soon after, our stomachs less empty and digesting beer, still clinging to some stress from earlier I began to relax. Off to the gate we went where we relaxed in the mostly quiet terminal.

Our flight with ANA (All Nippon Airways) was smooth and like clockwork. Everyone was loaded onto the plane efficiently, the plane was prepped and all paperwork handled in time for a punctual push-back (something I'm not terribly used to at O'Hare). We proceeded direct to the runway, also refreshing as I'm no stranger to tarmac delays, and took off straight away.

Sunrise over the Pacific Ocean

This time we were flying from Narita to LAX, so our flight was significantly shorter. ANA also had less in-flight entertainment options than the United flight did, but definitely a lot more multi-cultural options, so it was a fair trade-off, I think. Their meals were similar, being handled by the same Gate Gourmet we all know and lover, but they tended to give more fluids less frequently. Not to mention we got to eat our food with actual utensils, rather than flimsy, childlike plastic utensils. It was refreshing to be treated like a human again while flying.

Nearing Los Angeles, overlooking the ocean

The bulk of our flight to LA was at night, but I got very little sleep. The Art Girl did shut her eyes for a while, but certainly not a full night's rest worth. The bulk of my time went to reading "Ender's Game", well getting a good start on it. We also chatted a little with the woman who had the aisle seat in our row, who was on her third of four flights that day going from Cambodia to Arizona. That certainly put some perspective on our single connection day.

Our plane landed in Los Angeles without issue and upon deplaning there were a number of people waiting just outside the jet's door calling out names, one of them called us. Being new to international travel, we hadn't expected it but they provided us with expedited immigration and customs cards. The building concerns of making our connecting flight to Chicago began to fade and we made our way to the immigration lines. Gone was the Japanese politeness, true to the officials in Chicago, the LAX uniformed security staff were despondent, brusque, and repellent. They did, however, direct us towards the special short cut line, which we were grateful for as the regular queues all had at least 50 to 100 people in them; ours had only four.

Again, to our delight, the movies held little amount of reality with the border patrol official reviewing our passports and declaration/immigration cards then waving us through. There was no string of probing questions, or crafty digs to pry into our travels. All those ISO 9000 audits had me prepared, but the build up was for naught. On to baggage claim we went, where we found one of the passengers from our plane; a sizable, aging surfer, who happened to be drunk enough that the flight attendants had cut him off long ago. He was having a difficult time tracking the bags as they went around, and checked every black, standard looking, suitcase to roll by. First he spotted a cardboard box that was presumably his then a camouflaged gym bag. We spied The Art Girl's luggage and I hoisted it from the carousel for her. Not long after I could see mine traveling towards us. Drunken Surfer honed in on it, despite the bright yellow plastic bags I had tied to mine to make it easier to distinguish, and was trying to grab it. I moved in announcing, "It's mine," and, "that's my bag," a few times, but he seemed determine, until I grabbed hold of it and hauled it away from his grasp. He stumbled out a few words about them all looking so similar (despite significant size, shape, and adornment differences), but we just let it go and headed to customs.

Continuing to dispel Hollywood, there was little ceremony with the Customs official. We pulled our bags over, said a friendly "Hello," handed him our declaration card and waited for a few moments. The cheerful, yet authoritative looking man, skimmed both sides of the card, double checked our passports, and said, "Welcome home," with a smile. It seemed we were going to have no trouble making our connecting flight after all. Just around the corner from there was a baggage re-check station and shortly after we were once again waiting at a gate.

Upon finding a seat, The Art Girl and I had a prompt reminder of the differences back home compared to where we were. There was so much noise and obnoxiousness going on around us it was beyond comparison. Our plane was already there and unloading, so I was grateful that I wasn't going to wait long to get out of the mayhem. Just to accentuate the situation a gate attendant used the PA to announce information about carry-on bags, "We have a full flight today. When we begin boarding this plane, your carry-on must look like it will fit to me. If it does not look like it will fit I will check it with this," she referenced a sizing box, "and if it is too big, we will check your bag and you will go to the back of the line." Her tone was stern, and brash, "That includes first class. I don't care who you are, double check your carry-on now and if it isn't going to fit, see me to check your bag." On and on she went, repeating herself, "Again, if your bag looks too big, I will pull you out of line, and you will go to the back to wait again."

I wondered, "Why are people always in such a hurry to be in their cramped seats anyway?" Likely it is carry-on storage space I assume, but since I always try to keep my carry-on small enough to fit under the seat in front of me, it isn't really a concern for me. With the woman continuing to bark instructions at us the plane was emptied and cleaned, then came another person apologizing that the pilot was asking to have something looked at closer before boarding and that they would be with us shortly.

We waited, and the crowd grew; there was a flight to Hawaii arriving at the gate in the adjoining waiting area as ours. In front of us was a family of four, husband, wife, and two kids. They seemed like that over-the-top parenting team that does everything by the current trend, and had their anxious kids doing school work on their MacBooks. The two boys were restless, whiny and kicking as they sat or laid across the seats. The thumping noise was starting to be aggravating. Worse, however, was the group that sat behind us. There was an obese woman with many children floating around her (five or six, but it felt like twenty). They were very loud, screaming, running around, bumping into strangers and constantly knocking into our seat backs. The mother was only interested in laying down and not seeming to care about how disruptive the children were.

Now sure, kids will be kids, but this was far over-the-top. Plus, I have this thing where certain noises drive me crazy, especially repetitious sharp sounds accompanied with feeling (such as a shrill squeal followed by a small body abruptly leaning into my seat from behind). It's called Misophonia and it really sucks. Essentially it is an uncontrollable, irrational response to noises that triggers your flight or fight response. Generally speaking when it happens for me, if it doesn't feel like it will end soon I feel the fight urge come on and consciously direct it to flight. Usually by putting in tight fitting ear buds with music going to drown it out, or in this case I ultimately had to physically remove myself, due to the physical component, and went for a walk. On my return I had calmed back down and spotted a better spot to sit, not in the middle of all the chaos.

By this time they had announced that a maintenance crew was coming to fix our plane. No ETA had been provided, but they did direct people who were connecting in Chicago to see their service desk. More and more time went by and we were starting to wonder if we were going to be spending the night in Los Angeles. Another gate attendant, after another thirty or so minutes, showed up and announced that they believe the repairs were complete, but they needed to run an engine test, which would take another thirty minutes. I spotted a woman roll her eyes in disgust and thought to myself, "No, really, let them test the engine! It's kind of important."

At long last we were boarded, and on our way to Chicago in a far from full plane. Most of the connecting people had found other flights, which made for a more relaxing feel on ours. Thoroughly exhausted, both The Art Girl and I fell asleep almost immediately only to wake up a little while later. Unlike our other recent flights there was no meal, or even provided snack, but at least there was a complimentary beverage. Across the aisle from us a person requested a little bottle of red wine and when the flight attendant asked for their credit card they responded, with surprise, "I have to pay for this!?" I'm not sure what rock they had been living under, but they certainly looked old enough to have known better. Either way, it amused us to watch.

You can just make out Chicago in my blurry night shot

More reading of "Ender's Game" for me, and before we knew it, we were over the Chicago area, and again in the dark, but yet only a couple hours since we left Japan. Having come from the future, traveling backward in time and seeing two sunsets was wild. We departed Narita at 5:05 PM on Friday, and were landing in Chicago on Friday at 7:00 PM. If only it had only taken two hours for real. It was also fun seeing the Chicagoland area at night, from the air. It had been a long time since I have seen it like that and it really is pretty. From there we were on the ground, deplaned, and reunited with our luggage in short order. Our wonderful friend 'Ms. Ladybug' and her husband had picked us up and were a welcome sight waiting for us at baggage claim. After a long day of travel, friendly faces at the end are very comforting. Our sincere thanks go out to them for making our transition from airport to home so painless.

The kids, and more the dogs, were beyond excited to see us. Everyone we came across wanted to hear all about everything, and we loved recounting everything in person for them. That night we unpacked and gave our girls all of their gifts. Seeing the delight in their eyes was worth every yen we spent.

We are already talking about trying to figure out how to go somewhere else next year and do this all again, blog included. The next time, though, we hope to take the kids with and allow them exposure to other cultures. We're not sure how to make this possible financially yet, but that's our challenge to overcome. If you have any suggestions on where you would like to read about us going, please comment below, though, right now we're leaning on somewhere in Europe. We'll see.

In the meantime, I bid you a fond farewell and safe travels!

-Geek

Bittersweet

It's hard to be sad when I'm in the land of happy cake in the shapes of animals...

But I am. 

Devil's Tongue and Ginger Gelatin, It's What's for Breakfast

aka Marathon Shopping Part Two and our final night

Geek and his Japanese MRE

This will be kind of a sad post, because today was the last full day for us here in Tokyo. Numerous times throughout the day we commented on how we're going to miss numerous aspects of being here. One of which will be the super convenient 7-Eleven that we have come to know and love for fast, energizing, inexpensive, and great tasting meals. Even this morning, after polishing off the blog post for yesterday, I stopped in for some breakfast (it should be clear by now that we've been totally taken by all the crazy random pre-packaged stuff available in there). Usually The Art Girl is ready to blast out the door, and has picked up breakfast a few times, but this morning I took up finding nourishment to power us through our day.

Today's breakfast menu included these pouches we have seen a number of people walking around and sucking on. The Art Girl mentioned them a few times, and I decided we were going to give them a try. There was also an interesting looking ginger gelatin cup with lychee and lemon in it, a kiwi pear and kale drink, a super potent espresso, and two fantastic danish-like pastries. The fruit topped pastry was pear, and the other was topped with a light cream. There were also two more soft-boiled eggs, but no picture of them. 

The pouch was probably the most interesting of everything. The back of the package seemed to have instructions that indicated shaking the pouch, so I did. Then I opened it and drew some of the product into my mouth. Oh! It had chunks. So I let The Art Girl try it next and she was just as surprised by the texture as I was. Then she asked me what color it was and showed me what was in her mouth. Yet another surprise, it was clear! Totally erased the notion of peach chunks being in my mouth. Then I realized the directions on the back were telling you to squeeze the contents of the pouch around to break the product up. Still; it was so unexpected we needed to know more. To the Bat-Computer (Internet) we went! There was a website that explained all about these pouches, in Japanese (remember: nihongo wa hanasemasen), so Google Translate to the rescue! Apparently these things are fast paced, weight loss, meal replacements. They're low calorie, and filling (I suspect due to the indigestible dextrin). Tell me; would you eat this: "(Polysaccharide thickener) fructose glucose liquid sugar, indigestible dextrin, erythritol, peach juice, liquor, fructose, devil's tongue powder, gelling agent, acidulant, lactic acid Ca, flavoring, sweetener (sucralose)"? Well we did!

Haven't seen many bugs, so
here's a spider.

Once feasting time was over, we popped in to concierge to have them help confirm our pickup for transport back to Narita airport tomorrow, then made the trek to Shinjuku station. This time, being old pros at it, we deftly maneuvered to the correct ticketing machines, determined our proper ticket rate, paid, and had our tickets in no time flat. In fact, The Art Girl and I had gotten so comfortable walking around in Tokyo that we now did so very casually, not so constantly concerned about making sure the other was right there, and as such I headed off to the ticket takers. A few moments later I heard a laugh from The Art Girl behind me. I asked what made her laugh, and it turned out that she started walking off following some other guy who's head, from behind, looked like mine. It only took her a few moments to realize it wasn't me, but with so few lighter colored, short haired people around, it's surprising there even was someone else close enough to cause that.

This is a very light load of people waiting

Back with me, The Art Girl and I moved with, against, and across more traffic in each direction than Chicago Union Station ever sees. It was, again, a perfect reminder of how it is here. When in Tokyo, do not try to move Tokyo, let Tokyo move you; you'll get where you're going. We stepped out onto the platform and wondered how packed the train would be. Since there is a train every five minutes or so, our answer came quickly with a fairly empty car. Following procedure (not displayed anywhere that we could understand) we stepped off to one side of the door as the train came to a stop so anyone departing the train could exit through the center of the door unimpeded.

Sleep IN Hello Kitty

Once on the train we found a seat together and saw three young men board the train behind us. As it turns out, one of them was the person The Art Girl almost started to follow. We had to strike up a conversation with them and as it turned out they were from Australia and were headed to Shibuya. They were fairly fresh into their trip and were still trying to figure out everything. Their tickets, for example were for ¥130, but to get to Shibuya from Shinjuku it is ¥150. For future note, if any of you plan on traveling to Tokyo, and find yourself at a station further than your ticket allowed, near the exits that check your ticket you will find Rate Adjustment stations. It's actually pretty smart, that way if once you board the train you realize you need or want to go to a further station instead, you can just stay on the train and fix it when you get there. Do try to be mindful of that during rush hours, though, because the exiting ticket takers will close and block you if your ticket is wrong, and that could cause quite the pile-up behind you.

This time we decided to turn a different direction out of the station and headed North to the famed Takeshita Dori (Street). This is one of the top spots for shopping, especially for the local youth. So much so that this street has become a test bed for large companies to discretely prototype their new products prior to mainstream release. The bulk of the shops are small independents and the styles and goods found cover a broad range. The style that has become one with the Harajuku district really revolves, for the young that live it, around wearing what you like, even if it doesn't all go together. Sprinkled throughout are regular reminders of a very strong Western, especially American, influence on Japan's youth.

What "No Pictures" Sign?

Busy, but quiet, and beautiful in the fall; Harajuku

Once we'd finished our tour of Takeshita Dori, we free-navigated (how we usually found our way around) our way towards a store we had previously been at to get a few more things we thought of, but unfortunately they were closed. Who closes every Thursday? Crazy I tell you, crazy! Put off by the primary reason we came back to Harajuku being closed, it was time to venture off the beaten path a bit (in a megalopolis, that just means wandering onto back-streets). There were a few stores here and there, but none that really stuck out as anything we were looking for. It was kind of like stepping around the back side of a stage set building. On Meiji-Dori, for example, there are a lot of people, big shiny buildings, stores, sounds, etc., but step behind them even one block and it is an incredibly quiet residential section.

Tokyo, in general, is a pretty quiet city. Sure there are exceptions, especially in malls where several small stores are packed closely together and each are playing their own music, but even walking along sidewalks with more people than Michigan Avenue could muster on Black Friday it is calm, quiet, and reserved. Everyone talks to each other in a quiet, respectful volume. The roar of the crows is more of a murmur. This contributes to the workers at stores being able to bark their wares without being loud. Not to mention they are almost always young girls who have perfected the pitch and volume of their voice to be present, but not intrusive.

For someone, like me, who has issues with sounds and noises, this city has been a dream. Once we let go and stopped trying to act like we were in Chicago it became so peaceful and calm. Like the active practicing of Zen at all times. That will be one of the things we will miss most; that and the food!

Left to Right: A Tokyo Residence, I think I know who cabled this, and a quiet residential street

From the neighborhoods of Harajuku we journeyed back again to Shibuya and visited Hachikō once more. His scarf was gone this time, though, and we also stopped into a decommissioned JR Line rail car that had been converted into a tourism information center. Inside was an elderly man seated behind a sign which read "Ask Us Anything About Shibuya". My first question to him was where the brass paw prints were that marked the precise location Hachikō waiting, but he knew of no such thing and said that the station has changed and been rebuilt many times since then, and the exact spot is likely inaccessible now. He was, however, impressed with how much about Hachikō I already knew. Most people tend to pop in and ask "What's up with that dog statue?" I also asked him about where to find a certain store type.

Yoyogi 1st Gymnasium

Fresh with advice we headed off to the streets of Shibuya and walked for several blocks ending up, again, off the typical route. After a while we began to suspect that perhaps we were heading in the wrong directly (too many hills and unfamiliar buildings in the area to free-navigate as easily). We did come across the NHK broadcast building, which was a significant landmark. Map time; yes, we were definitely going the wrong way. A course correction and a few minutes later we passed the Yoyogi 1st Gymnasium. This beautiful building was built for the 1964 Olympic games and has continued to house numerous sports and cultural activities.

Just South of Cosplay Bridge

Afterward we found 'Cosplay Bridge' (Jingu Bashi Bridge) but sadly there were no cosplayers. Apparently the youth of Japan are rather strict on their scheduling because they have all pre-coordinated that Sunday is when they don their costumes of their favorite manga characters & other Otaku attire and hang out on that bridge. So here are a few pictures from around the bridge. Sorry; I tried... A quick Google search will yield many example pictures, just not mine.

The bridge can be seen on the far left of the image

This was a mesuem, which was close, just behind the bridge

A view of the bridge itself, devoid of cosplayers

We weren't finding the stores were wanted, the people we hoped, and even tried to get lost. It was as though Tokyo was trying to keep us from leaving to return home in the morning. From Jingu Bashi bridge we walked back into Harajuku some more before dragging ourselves back to Harajuku Station for a return trip to Shinjuku via the JR line. After buying our tickets it occurred to us that we were trying to take the train during rush hour, and we were a little nervous about having to be pressed into the train so the doors could close (it's a thing here on some lines).

Exhausted we sat while waiting for the train, rather than standing behind the green queue line on the ground, and enjoyed a couple minutes rest. Before we could say "my legs hurt" our train arrived so we got in line and moved to the left side of the door. Once the passengers exiting the train were off it was our turn to get on, and this time the car was pretty crowded. I went first and squeezed into a spot leaving just enough room for the Art Girl to stand between me and the door. After us, however, more people packed in and we became, without moving, another layer deeper. On all four sides, people were in contact with me. Not really pressing into, but touching enough to have a foot or two of contact. The interesting part was how the group moved with the train; much like when walking with crowds, while riding the rails in Tokyo, just let the train move you, don't try to anticipate or move the train. Everyone around me all swayed in synchronous with the movement of the train. As my body shifted, so did all those around me. There was no push-back, no resistance or surprise, it just was what they did, and it worked.

Entrance to the food floor

Arrival at Shinjuku station was a little more hectic because so many were trying to depart the train at the same time, but not having a swathe of people waiting to get on standing right in front of the door was greatly helpful. We, again, moved with the flow and were soon down and out of the main JR line area. From here we attempted to locate one more store we had been looking for and realized it was really a train ride away. That was more than we could do, but we found a department store nearby in the train station we hadn't hit yet so we decided to check it out. The bulk of the store was like most places here. Full of stuff you could find back home in Chicago. They like our culture so much, it seems, that they reflect it in all the goods geared towards local shoppers. Whether it be American phrases and logos on the edgy clothing for the Japanese youth, high-end brand names like Ralph Lauren, Tiffany & Co, Chanel, etc. for the more affluent, and everything in-between, it truly was just like shopping in the states. What we would call food courts, however, are markedly different. The basement of the last department store we visited had an incredible array of foods and other consumables. So blown away were we that we had to wander through it a second time.

People and food everywhere, tightly packed yet easy to move through

A couple more views of the bazaar of foods

After all the walking and shopping, even The Art Girl was done. We had walked 10km (6.2 miles) today, which by itself isn't too bad until you consider we'd walked the same every day since Sunday (50km / 31 miles) and that doesn't include the walking in stores and barely ever sitting. Our entire stay, the only mode of travel we used was by foot, and by light rail. That really felt easiest. There was a bus that would take you to Shinjuku Station from the hotel, but that walk was only 1km (0.62 miles) one way and seemed like waiting for a bus was just unnecessary. Each morning we wake up more stiff and sore, but it's all been worth it. Oh how we will miss Tokyo gently moving us from place to place amid the quiet din of its denizens.

We never actually buy this much, but keep winning extra stuff because of our combined purchasing

Realizing we were hungry, it was time for one last sampling of interesting looking convenient food. This time we included some Japanese beer and some chips that I think were coated with a soy fish sauce. As always, were not disappointed with the variety of flavor and surprise. The biggest came in a bottle of "Royal Milk Tea" we had won. It was warm, and we never saw them heat it up, so they must have kept it warm somewhere. It was pretty tasty, as was the tiramisu and custard-like pie slice.

 It was clear to us, as we were going over all the brochures, maps and pamphlets we had collected that we saw so little of what Tokyo has to offer. You could easily come here for a fifteen day vacation, and spend all of it in one district, and still not fully explore all that district has to offer. It would really take living here for an extended period of time to feel like you have truly seen all of Tokyo. Perhaps that would make for less stiff and sore mornings because you wouldn't feel the need to get to as much as possible in one day.

Some of my final thoughts on our trip are:

• We know very little (as a whole) about Japan and its culture and people, but they know so much about us and other 'western' nations. Many of them are in love with the western sense of individuality, as opposed to the strong sense of group here. Much of what makes Tokyo great is a result of their societal togetherness and respect for one another. I hope in their quest for individuality they do not go too far and become the social isolationists we have.
• Everything they eat is incredible, either because it is bizarre and still tasty or because it is so outright delicious. Almost everything is something other than what you expect, especially not being able to read the language. Even things we thought difficult, we managed to eat all of and never got sick. A couple times our bodies protested the extreme differences, but never was it bad or problematic. It really was just a result of so much different stuff, nothing bad or dangerous.
• Tokyo is a model of efficiency and design. Everything appears confusing and labyrinth like, but it all really does work when you let it. The trains operate very smoothly, and while there are thousands people moving in every direction at at once they do so seamlessly without every bumping into each other. Plus, if you ever truly are lost or can't figure out what to do, it won't take long for someone who speaks decent English to spot you and ask if you need help.
• They really enjoy when we put forth the effort to communicate. Much of people's lives seem very routine, like they're just going through the motions and following the pattern of the day. Then along we come; at first they greet us the same way every time (they actually have scripts to follow in retail stores), but since our reactions tend to be off-script, when I say something to them in Japanese, they light up. Big smiles are easy to come by, and even if it's just to say "sorry, I don't speak Japanese," they do everything they can to work with us and figure it out.

There will probably be more thoughts on our 9 hour flight to LAX, and I may post additional follow-ups or even thoughts on experiences once we return home, but this is my final post from Tokyo. We're sad to leave, we're sad to end such a miraculous experience, and we're sad to stop sharing all this with you. Because of how well this all went, and how much we enjoyed making this blog for you (not to mention the great reception we received) we have started discussing the idea of taking more trips (even domestic) and blogging about them. Maybe not to the extent of an international trip, like if we go to see family in Michigan, but at least parts that are stand out.

敬具 (Keigu) / Best regards,

Geek

Shibuya, Harajuku, Shinjuku, and Danish Crack

Otherwise known as the most shopping I've ever done, in my life.

We had it all planned out. We would wake up early, beat the morning rush and ride the JR Yamanote line from Shinjuku Station to Shibuya Station. From there we would head over to the Starbucks there, get coffee and something to eat, then sit in the observation area to watch the morning rush come bustling through the super busy, famous intersection. It was working too; by 5:00 AM we were both up, and went about getting ready to go. Shortly after 6:00 AM The Art Girl and I hit the streets, and our well traveled route to Shinjuku Station. Moving in and out of this station has become as familiar as getting in and out of bed; something which seemed unfathomable previously. Shinjuku station is far larger, more complex, and many times busier than Grand Central Station in New York, but it has become like our second home here in Tokyo.

Organized Chaos at its Finest

While heading into our second home, however, it dawned on us, rush has gotten going, and the trains are going to be very packed. At this point, the no-coffee, and no-breakfast was too much of a drain, and we were not meshing properly with the system that is the Japanese commuter hive. When we're properly energized, it's incredible to us how we've managed to become part of the flow. Early in our stay it was a little stressful to move with and through the large groups of people. Tens of thousands of people all at once are passing through numerous narrow passageways, and they're going in every direction you can imagine. Yet, no one bumps into anyone else. No one yells at anyone, gets upset, or gets in anyone's way. Originally this all seemed so chaotic and impossible to navigate that we would drag each other around, not key into what the other was thinking, and stress ourselves out even more. Today, however, the rhythm was there for us. We were able to move within the crowd, casually, calmly, and efficiently. It's all about being mindful of what/who is coming up in front of you, and making subtle course alterations, because they will do the same. Neither of you moves enough to clear the other, but combined the efforts result in a seamless flow, with nary a single shoulder bump.

A good day for some comfort

We both agreed, partly because nothing else was open, and because we weren't ready to learn the JR Yamanote line, just yet, to get some breakfast at the McDonald's near the entrance to Shinjuku Station. For The Art Girl an Egg McMuffin meal, and I opted for a Sausage McMuffin with egg meal. The part we wanted most was coffee, but the rest was energizing, and just what we needed to make the journey we had planned. You see, by the time we'd headed back towards McDonald's, my foot felt ready to break along the right side, and based on the way I was hobbling around, The Art Girl almost called off the day.

The train station McDonald's was unique, and tailored to the commuters. Rather than family sized tables and plenty of space, it was tightly packed with single seating stalls and mini-booths. We found a space with two adjacent low bar-style seating. The space was just barely big enough for our tray, yet many managed to have their laptops open and on their tiny counter space. There was also power available for each seat, and a small shelf to set your brief case.  We found it hard to ignore the song playing in the restaurant when "Saturday in the Park" by Chicago came on. Another one of those odd moments where you feel like you're home, but most definitely are not. All the Christmas music playing in so many places adds a strange feel to being in Japan too.

Why? Because it catches my eye.

 The theme for this post is wild, crazy, wacky Japan advertising. 

"Why" you ask? I have no idea what it all means but I still find myself looking. 

This one made me think of my friends back home and their inappropriate ways of talking about their female body parts. You know who you are. 

This one makes you believe if you eat this tasty snack you will be cool like John Travolta. 

With this drink you will be able to dance and appear like you are a funky person with stylish taste. 

This tasty morsel is happy hand flavored. 

Every restaurant displays their food out front or in display windows to describe what you will dine on once inside. This is the plastic food Capital of the world!!

Even the locals add a little of their own flavor. 

I tried to talk Geek into trying some of this traditional, tasty pizza. He just laughed. 

Isn't all glamour slightly hysterical? This had something to do with Playboy but we were on a mission and didn't stop to find out anymore about these sexy, hysterical glamorzons. 

Yeah, honestly I have no idea about this one. There is a lot of the "look I'm super  cute" stuff around and it just makes me smile. 

Last but not least.....50 foot Amazon women attack Tokyo!! 

Scary but beautiful!!!

So that's what I have for you tonight folks! It's been a busy day of shopping and finding all the perfect things for everyone back home. 

I can't believe the week is almost over. 

xoxoxo Art Girl