In the small moments in my mind, I begin to wonder if my stamina will hold out for long days of sightseeing. My back, particularly, objects when I stand and objects strenuously when under strain. Perhaps I should have thought more about my 77-year old physical abilities before booking such a physically demanding schedule. But I’m booked, and I’m going. Just armed with a full bottle of Aleve.
Today is the tour of Tokyo itself, still cloudy and threatening to rain. Umbrella? Or no umbrella? Leave my camera case in my room and to take strain off my back, and carry only the camera itself? And so down to the lobby to meet (yet another) bus.
I’ve given up on trying to understand our guide. Again I could get only a few words. I’m sure it’s my hearing. I already know I’m losing my highs and lows. It looks like rain so I got another umbrella from the concierge and to lighten the load on my back, have brought only my camera, slung oh so touristy over my shoulder instead of schlepping the whole camera bag. Again today the same routine: a representative of the tour company meets me in thehotel lobby and loads me into a waiting bus already filled with tourists like myself. To the main bus terminal where we all off-load, present our voucher at the tour office, get an assignment, with designated seat, for yet another bus for our particular tour. It seems like a logical system.
In this process, I’m again impressed by the ever-present courtesy shown by all Japanese. Even the lady who directs me to the next elevator in my hohtel bows deeply after the elevator is loaded and maintains that bow until the elevator door closes. And Japan is very clean and orderly – no trash on the street, no cigarette butts. I wonded where they go but while at a stoplight this morning, I saw a man smoking on the street (theoretically foribidden). Before the light changed and we moved on, he took a compact-looking thing from his pocket, flipped up the top and deposited his cigarette ashes inside. Nice. No-litter smoking.
[I’ll stop here to say that I’m typing this from a handwritten copy I wrote some days ago and on the only keyboard and computer released by the computer man just for me to perform in Word, the word processing program. So I have no choice but to use this keyboard, which is very “mushsy” meaning that the keys stick, and the spacer bar is not very responsive. This creates a lot of mistakes. So I hope you can bear with me as I labor on.
We went first to the Tokyo Tower, called the Sky Tree, an observation building 634 metres high and vaguely reminescent of the Eiffel Tower, a spread-legged erector set building with a funny tinker toy top that I suppose consitutes a TV antenna. A swift elevator , loaded with typical Japanese efficiency took us to the observation level where our guide shouted out above the general din the important buildings in the distance. Tokyo, with a population of 13 milliion, goes on and on. Not able to hear the guide, I took photographs of those sights I thought interesting but they all began to look much the same. Like similar cities all over the world; so much concete. One view that caught my eye was a modern Shinto temple with an ancient cemetery around it, all sloping roof with the tiny dots of graves around it. The Sky Tree made its debut only in May of this year and its publicity says that it is “drawing international attention." No wonder. It’s visible from all over Tokyo.
Then on to an ancient tradition, a tea ceremony in a tea house 140 years old – please don’t lean against the walls – where we sat crowded together while a woman in traditional dress perfomed the rigid ritual of serving green tea, a somewhat thick and foul-tasting concoction that when drunk is supposed to take a year off your life. A galloon of it please? The tea house was nestled down deep within an elaborate and carefully manicured garden with rocks and trees and azaleas, not in bloom but smooth, with not a branch protruding to disrupt the eye. Of course I got bitten by a mosquito, which crashed an otherwise perfectly controlled event. The garden is a favorite place for bridal photographs and there were two couples posing, one couple in modern dress...all silk flowing out behind, and the other in traditional costume that our guide said was always rented, at about $3000 a day. Even getting hitched in Japan is not cheap! The route to and from the tea house was a complicated path paved with heavy stones that formed irregular steps. With my balance still not perfect, I had to be especially cautious and careful not to fall.
Moving along to lunch...in a hotel restaurant space where, like Japanese restaurants in the US, had hot plates in the middle of the tables where ladies in traditional dress cooked little pieces of meat and vegetables in a beautifully artful combination. Each piece was dipped in a Japanese version of barbecue sauce and then served. It was as pretty as it was delicious. And rice, of course. When in Rome, and all that jazz, I tried, reasonably successfully, to eat with chopsticks even though I had to cut some of the meat into pieces I could manipulate with my tools. Dessert was ice cream, thankfully served with a small spoon. The meal was served with cups of green tea – another year younger? – and then brown tea, loaded with herbs that are supposed to be good for the digestion.
Although the Imperial Palace itself is carefully shrouded deep in a private park, we were able to wander through an adjacent park, carefully manicured so that like bonsai, every tree and bush was perfect. It was a long wander from the bus to a gate to the imperial grounds and I was delayed and separated from my group by a traffic lane. Thank God for Georgia’s dress! The Imperial palace is open only two days a year and as many as 70,000 people parade through. And anyone can make an appointment to see the emperor; the wait has recently been reduced from 10 years to 6 months. In that time, it would be easy to forget what you wanted to ask him!
Then a boat trip on the river that runs from Tokyo Bay into the city, a half hour ride under many bridges and the ubiquitous highrise buildings – all beginning to look the same, on each side of the river. Not much else to see but I had an interesting conversation with a woman from Hawaii, intent on getting to a shop where she said one could buy an old kimono, worth $3000.00 for $300.00, from a retired former drag queen. I can’t wait!
The conclusion to our day was a walking tour – oh my by-now-aching back! – down a mile-long alee with souvenir shops on each side. The process began at “the main gate” of Akakusa and progressed through the Nakamise shopping arcade to “the middle gate” by a five-tiered pagoda, and ended at “the main hall” of a Kannon temple,a huge Shinto shrine all done in red and gold leaf. I hurried through the shopping arcade – I became rather claustrophobic in the intense crowd with proprietors hawking their wares on either side. The crowd was a little like the press of people all leaving a sporting even tat the same time and I couldn’t help but think about fans in Ireland being crushed at a soccer game.
At the Shinto temple, one can buy – for 100 yen , about 50 cents – one’s fortune. In front of a high wall filled with many little drawers, you shake a long metal container, shaped like a kaliedescope, until a long bamboo stick finds its way through a tiny hole in one end. On the stick is a number that corresponds to the drawers in the wall. You open your drawer and there in a pile is your forturne. Mine could not have been worse. It said, “No 39. Bad fortune. You can’t tell your request to others, having to hold it in your own mind. Misfortune happens to you repeatedly, just like fire burns your house. Trouble danger be at you continuously, you should be very careful, that you loose the most important article for your life. Your request will not be granted. The patient will get worse. The lost article will not be found. The person you wait for will not come. Stop buiding a house and removal. Stop starting trip. Marriage and employment are both bad.” There goes the lottery and any hope for a tall, dark stranger.
After that, a drive through the Ginza was anti-climatic – it’s more like Rodeo Drive than Times Square – Gucci, Tom Ford, Armani, Hermes all crowded together like the Nakamise shopping arcade but much more expensive.
By the time I got back to the Imperial, I was again exhausted. I had my $16.00 vodka and tonic and went to bed. I have to stop beating myself up like this. But tomorrow is easy – pack and go to the ship and then a following day at sea. Now that’s a future to which I can look forward. And all the vodka and tonics will be free!
Stay tuned.
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