Tokyo

I'm writing this while sitting in bed on the 24th floor of the Tokyo Keio Plaza hotel. There seems to be a wireless network up here but I'm not sure why; I'm certainly not complaining however.

Well, it's certainly been some kind of day. I haven't slept in almost 24 hours (I think) and I've been busy.

Leaving the folks and Hannah at the departure lounge certainly wasn't easy, but luckily the flight itself was fine. The in flight entertainment was amazing, they had 40 movies to choose from as well as a digital jukebox of 50 CDs. This is probably why I haven't had any sleep. Anyway, after the excruciating pain in my ears had subsided after landing I realised we were at the hotel. And a very nice one it is too. For example, here's the view from my window:



And here’s the view from the 45th floor bar in the hotel:



Mmm, very Lost in Translation. Infact, I’ve been reminded of this film multiple times in the last few days. I was in a lift with 10 Japanese businessmen, none over 5’7. I’ve had to bend over double to get my head under the showerhead in my bathroom. I’ve sat staring at Japanese TV, utterly confused at what I supposed to be watched (for all of 3 minutes, I’m busy remember?).

The first day was quite surreal. After we got to the hotel we decided that Tokyo couldn’t not be explored so we set off. We actually managed to catch a train to Electric city in the Akihabara region, a town that sells nothing but electronic goods. We also managed, with a suitable amount of odd looks and smirks, to order lunch at a tiny little eatery by pointing at plastic mockups of the meals and raising one finger.

I’m finishing off this entry sat on the floor of the hotel’s 4th floor lobby, mainly because there’s no space in the room with the seats abd they don’t call these tings wireless networks for nothing. I was stopped for the first time to day by a bunch of Japanese schoolgirls, clad in clichéd but traditional garb, and asked for photos. I spent the next five minutes grinning madly as a neverending stream of them marched up, got their friend to point their phone at me and pulled a two fingered gesture that I’m assuming was polite.

Better end this here, my back is killing and people won’t stop taking photos, as if they’d never seen 50 people sat on a hotel floor typing on laptops….