19 posts tagged “tokyo”
It was a warm but lovely night in Tokyo. The moon, almost full, was bright and high in the sky. It was a nice focal point for me while on the terrace taking a conference call during dinner at Eat More Greens (my favorite vegetarian restaurant).
On the way back from dinner at I snapped my reflection in the dark lobby of my apartment building. I think the small portions and the low fat meals are taking their toll. At least it will be much less baggage to carry around come Ironman Wisconsin this September. I may be under-trained but I'll be lighter. Yes, that is my awesome retro Flash t-shirt.
As you walk along Roppongi Dori the fragrance of gardenias is overwhelming. Since this is a busy thoroughfare with constant traffic, I find this quite amazing. I haven't traveled outside Tokyo enough to know if the abundance of planted flowers is a by product of the metropolitan wealth or simply just part of the Japanese culture. I do find myself lacking in botanical knowledge. I need to find a decent picture book of plants and flowers so I can begin to identify all the amazing ones I see. I have a few photos below - if anyone can identify the ones which I simply label as 'flower' it would be greatly appreciated. I wish I had some photos of the beautiful hydrangeas around the imperial palace; some are purple, some are white and some are a pinkish hue.
10Km around Kokyo, the Japanese Imperial Palace. I was inspired by leaving the office yesterday. Trying to take back parts of my life. Relatively sunny day for a quick 10Km. The only problem is my body doesn't cool so quickly so 30 minutes later, despite a very cold shower, I sweat like a man with a deadly fever while sitting at my desk.
It's so beautiful just before sunrise. The sky is deep gradients of metallic blue. It's peaceful and cool. If only I was getting up for a run instead of leaving the office. Tokyo is amazing but this job is nuts.
Bernie took hold of another of my photos and jazzed it up. Her post-production magic is awesome. I told her it is coincidental that she is a wizard at color manipulation because she has very dramatic coloring personally (she has hair like pure obsidian that juxtaposes alabaster skin). She's great and a hottie. Check out her work here. And check out my (newly) cool photo below.
My love affair with the vegetarian restaurant and fantasy about becoming a gentleman farmer continues. (I really don't have much of a life outside of work right now.) The soups at Eat More Greens are fantastic, very simple and uncomplicated. The cook shows restraint with salt and spice so you can really taste the vegetables. I had a turnip soup that reminded me of the meals my mother used to make.
So considering the quality of food, my gentleman farmer fantasy, and being brought back to my happy place with memories of my mom's cooking, it's my favorite place in Tokyo.
Last Sunday, after an afternoon in the office, I hopped on the subway to Asakusa to see the last day of the Shinto festival Sanja Matsuri. Asakusa is home to Senso-ji shrine which is already a very famous tourist attraction so coupled with the spring festival, the area draws over a million people over the course of the three day festival.
The festival in Asakusa is comprised of various groups, of mostly men, all with distinct costumes to identify their neighborhood, parading three mikoshi, or miniature shrines, on their shoulders from the main Buddhist temple at Senso-ji throughout the Asakusa area. The shrines are elaborate and can weigh in excess of a ton. Despite the burden, the mood of the processional is extremely festive. Each procession shouts and chants while swaying and rhythmically bouncing to intensify the energy of the spirit in the shrine as they pass through the crowded streets. The idea of the festival and procession is to drive the away the bad spirits to ensure good fortune for the neighborhood and devotees to the local temple.
Ultimately, the festival ends with the groups officially disbanding but the celebration continues in smaller groups with excessive drinking. Long after the daylight processions have ended you can find the men all grouped together late into the night drinking and singing and cheering each other.
The first time I saw her at Moto-Azabu Spa pool, I knew she was different than all the women I had met in Japan thus far. A heart stopping beauty, she had more curves than most Japanese women. She was taller than usual and rather than being runway thin she had an athletic frame and skin that was kissed by the sun.
She stood at the edge of the swimming pool, staring into the water. Dressed in a one-piece race suit, I watched her pull on her swim cap and goggles with rehearsed precision. When she eventually hopped into the water, she swam with patience and confidence. Sometimes, during her reach, her arms would stray across the centerline but from her easy kick, I suspected she might be a triathlete.
The second time I saw her was waiting on deck at the Hills Spa pool and this is where fate would bring us together. She was as beautiful as I remembered, but I was pressed for time and couldn’t linger to enjoy the sight. Other people were queued up on deck as well, hoping the lanes would thin out but I didn’t have time to wait so I hopped in the fast lane and joined the counter-clockwise flow.
I’m not fast by my peer standards; most of my friends can glide by me like I’m swimming the wrong direction. However, I’ve found in Asia, where the thirst for amateur athletics is not as cultivated, I am typically one of the speedsters in the pool. Such is the case in the spa pools of Tokyo. Most people walk from end to end or do a leisurely breaststroke.
Eventually, the aquatically challenged cleared from the fast lane having tired of me swimming on their feet and then flipping at the wall to race ahead. Occasionally, I would catch a glimpse of a familiar long and lean one-piece race suit gliding by in the lane next to me.
After a bout 20 minutes, the next wave of lane walkers made there way to the pool causing the swimming lanes to crowd up again. Until this point, I had been sharing my lane with only one woman and we agreed to split the lane instead of swimming circles so I would not have to keep passing her and she would not have to keep waiting at the wall. I knew our little arrangement could not last long but I hoped it would carry on for a few more minutes.
Alas on my next flip turn, rocketing off the wall it would all come crashing to an end as I drove my head directly into the bosom of my beautiful pool crush. It wasn’t the tender union I would have hoped for but rather a dramatic collision with sufficient force to drive her backwards and cause me to see stars.
And now, just before bed with a slight headache, I can honestly say it’s not very pleasant to rest your head on the bosom of the prettiest woman in Japan. At least not when it’s just an instant and initiated with the colliding force generated from pushing off a pool wall.
I hope she is not injured. She left the pool and did not return just after the collision. I did apologize profusely and, oddly, so did she despite the accident being my fault for disregarding the counter-clockwise swimming rule. I wonder, after she had finished gasping for air and clutching her chest and wincing in pain if she thought I was cute?
Vegan food always plays better in the mind than on the palate. While typically very beautiful and appetizing in appearance, it mystifies me that the sum of vegan food is always dramatically less than its' individual ingredients.
It is almost as if vegans are afraid of spice? Perhaps they think the grinding process is cruel. I love plain vegetables more than the average person but when you have a dish that is heavy on the rough rice how about a little something-something to make it dance. Those darn vegans are giving healthy food a bad reputation.
And why are all the employees at vegan restaurants smokers? Is smoking vegan? They should crush some of their clove cigarettes into my dinner next time to make it more interesting.
And lastly, one of the women working at this particular vegan restaurant had the smallest feet I have ever seen on an adult. I thought she might just tip over if someone held the door open too long and a breeze blew in. Oddly, I did find those tiny feet somewhat intriguing which makes me think the Chinese were on to something with that whole foot binding process. Maybe I'm just hoping to interbreed to spare my children of the inconvenience of the Fred Flintstone feet I've got.
I finally checked out of the hotel and relocated to an apartment. It has a 24 hour grocery within a 5 minute walk and the gym is less than a 15 minute walk. Also, it happens to be next an art Museum and an international bookstore that is open until 04:00!!! (The book store advertises this as 28:00 ???) I think I am going to like this place.
