my life

After the Friday night of debauchery and the Sunday spent in bed, I felt very guilty about not making the most of my time here in Tokyo. So I went onto Google and did a search for ‘traditional japanese breakfast’… I was adamant that I would consume at least a little of their traditional cuisine before I departed. (I had already tried the local version of sushi and chicken teriyaki and all the nice and normal Japanese food). There were a few results for this term, most of which involved raw eggs. Not the type that I had didn’t have the other day, which was just very undercooked. No, I mean raw.

Raw egg mixed with soy sauce is something I never want to experience in my life again

I asked the nice (but incredibly thin!) lady on reception where I could buy said brekky and she recommended a place to go which was a block away. An old man walked in just before me so I ordered what he ordered and decided to copy what he did.

There was a fish on a plate. Some miso soup. Pink pickled ginger. Some white rice. Oh yeh, and a raw egg had been lovingly cracked into a bowl. I didn’t really know what to do with this egg, so I spied the man out of the corner of my eye, not wanting to make it too obvious that I was copying his every move. If I’m ever anywhere in England, minding my own business and eating a bowl of Shreddies or something, and some Japanese bloke starts to watch me, I will not get paranoid, I will lead him through the process step-by-step. It’s only fair.

Anyway, Old Man (which he will now be known as), proceeded to pour a little soy sauce into the raw egg before spooning it over his rice. I copied. He started to eat the rice. I copied him. I nearly vomited.

Have you ever eaten something which has the consistency of raw egg, and the saltiness of soy sauce? Actually, let me rephrase that… Guys, have you ever eaten something which has the consistency of raw egg, and the saltiness of soy sauce? It’s not nice at all.

Without wanting to appear rude at all, I finished off the rest of my food and left with an odd feeling in my throat. Having grown up on a diet of Edwina Curry* I know the last thing I want to be doing is eating raw eggs, and this only added to the general feeling of nausea. I’m writing this now though, and I feel okay. Maybe it’s not such a bad thing after all; I won’t be doing it again though.

*For all of my friends who were born in the mid 80s, Edwina Curry isn’t a type of curry.

So I’ll get straight to it, I’m flaky. The night of the last post was a messy one and I never got to meet the nice charity lady in the end. It went a little like this…

Nightlife in Tokyo; it was there all the time, I was just looking in the wrong places

I’d heard that Tokyo had an amazing nightlife but had hitherto experienced any of it. I went in search for the Tokyo you see on the TV, the one with the lights and the glitz. Bear in mind that Tokyo isn’t really just one city, it’s a multitude of cites all parked at various distances from each other and so when I went to the ‘Tokyo’ district thinking that must be the place where it all happens, I was wrong… that place is called Roppongi.

Until now, I’d not really seen anything in the way of sleaze and had this idyllic opinion of what Tokyo was all about; a visit to Roppongi changed my mind.

I was on my way back home for the night (as it’s miles and miles from my hotel and I needed to catch the last Metro at 12.30am), when I bumped into 3 German blokes who asked me where the exit to the station was. We got chatting and they told me about this place of myth and legend. We decided to go together and split the £40 taxi fare. When we [finally] got there the place was heaving. This was where all the other nationalities were hanging about!

To make a long story a lot shorter, we were there until about 6am and I spent the whole of Saturday in bed nursing the mother of all hangovers. I had previoulsy promised myself that I wouldn’t ever get drunk again. In true flaky fashion, I never met up with Kowakami to teach her to dance English style – she is a very lucky lady.

Today I decided to have an all-Japanese breakfast. As I couldn’t read the writing I looked at the pictures, pointed to something with an egg on the top and said ‘ichi’, which means ‘one’ … a bit rude I know, but I’ve yet to find out the word for ‘please’. I’m going to make it a priority though. When my breakfast arrived it was a crazy thing to look at, let alone to put into my mouth. Tiny dried silver fish (about 1cm long) on a plate with some pickled stuff, green and cream things with noodles all in salty water; topped off with an almost raw ‘fried’ egg. I moved the egg to one side, not wanting to make that salmonella mistake I made in Portugal again, and started to tuck in.

Feeling guilty as a result of yesterday's behaviour, I knew it was about time I had a proper breakfast

It tasted quite good actually – that was until the lady saw me using the chopsticks for a liquid-based meal and rushed me over a spoon. A spoon in my hand would have done; but she started to mix everything in my bowl into one mush – including the uncooked egg. Shit. Oh well, if I get ill, then I get ill.

How are you at navigating around London’s tube network? It used to scare me, until I stayed there for a while and got my head around it. Tokyo’s underground is a little harder though, being all in Japanese. They have tried to make it a tiny bit easier by having colour-coded lines and numbered stations. I bought a day pass and off I went.

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I have been looking for a new compact camera for a while now. The last one I bought was a nice little Canon Ixus back in 2004 – that was 5 years ago and things move on so quickly so I decided I was due for an upgrade (yes, that’s right Gadget Gav has a piece of technology that is 5 years old!) … I decided to look for something a bit more rugged than your average camera and stumbled on a review for Canon’s new PowerShot D10. Smash-proof, water-proof and freeze-proof. Perfect for skiing, diving and going on beaches… in the rain. But the camera is not out until May – except in Japan where it came out today! It comes with loads of extra stuff that you don’t get when you buy it in the UK too. All sorts of straps, carabiners and an 8gb memory card. I bought it. Anyway, enough, if you’re not asleep already, please read on… no more technology waffle, I promise.

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The Tokyo Metro system: tricky

I found it very difficult, but when I finally left the biggest technology shop in the world… ever, I had quite a crazy experience. I passed a lady who was raising money for charity, and dropped a few of my coins into her box (this isn’t a euphemism, this actually happened). She started to tell me what it was for, in Japanese. I gave her that look only a confused puppy dog or a foreigner could get away with and she quickly switched to very broken English, telling me about some folk who’d been beheaded; so at least I know my money was going to a good cause. I’ve always said there were too many people on this planet.

Anyway, we got chatting and she told me there was going to be singing and dancing in a little place called Ginga Joy. In true Danny Wallace style I decided to go. Get to see a bit of real Japan rather than the usual tourist areas. She wrote down the details and I said I’d meet her at the place. Later in the evening, 3 trains and 1 useless (but persevering) taxi driver later and I was there – in what looked like a church hall. I think I may have been conned into something religious here. They’re always doing that to me, those types.

I wasn’t allowed in to the actual show as it was nearly finished by the time I got there, but instead was lead to a TV screen downstairs showing my new friend, Kawakami, performing on the mic.

The most gruesome burger meal in the whole world. If this is the enticing picture, imagine buying the dirty thing!

The show finished and as soon as it had, word must have gotten to her that I had come to see her. She came running into the room saying ‘sorry, sorry, sorry’ and there was me thinking, ‘shit it’s my fault for not getting there early enough’. To cut a long story short, I had a cup of tea with her while we chatted some more, then she coaxed me into meeting her tomorrow to teach some English dancing to her and her pals. I agreed and got out of there as soon as I could. I’m sat here thinking I might go though; you never know unless you do. I’m thinking of my routines now. Hmmm, English dancing… I must remember to dig out that handbag!