We showered, dressed on were on our way. We’re learning very quickly that small stores like an “AM/PM” are your best friend. They carry not only the standard faire of drinks and snacks, but actual food in tiny compartments. Our breakfast consisted of many of these. Marla had a great noodle salad while I partook of a small custard-filled pancake, a chicken salad and a self-con tained Starbucks latte. Now this is the way to have Starbucks, because the drinks we had later in the day proved much more expensive, almost four times as much as buying them at the store. But we’ve been regularly shopping at the AM/PM and get quite excited now when we see them exclaiming with a loving look, “Hey, look, its an AM/PM our best friend.”  I’m sure if we could hug the store, we would.

 

But on to Asakusa, which was described to me in the books as an old-world version of Tokyo. Small streets, little shops and a quaint feeling that one might get from Tokyo before it  became the bustling metropolis. It couldn’t have been more wrong. The moment we got off the train, it was nothing but people. A sea of people going this way and that. Hundreds of small shops bordering you in every direction. We guessed that this way the worst day to experience this area as everyone was shopping and everyone was moving and if you didn’t, you better get out of the way. But the excitement began to wear on us a bit because it reminded exactly of downtown LA in the fashion district. It too has billions of shops that become overcrowded selling wares that you don’t need or want.

 

So it wasn’t long before we hoped that we would see something new and impressive (sounds a bit snooty, but hey, its our vacation...impress us, Tokyo!) and that when we came upon the Shenjoji Shrine in the heart of this little suburb. A massive building, brightly-colored and filled with people making prayers and tossing coins at the Buddha.  I wished for a long and happy life.

 

There was another small station that contained a metal octagon-shaped metal tin that had a small hole at one end. You shook it, turned it and out popped a stick numbered in Kanji. That number indicated the appropriate drawer in which you would find your fortune for that day. You then tie that fortune to one of a series of bars. I assumed it needed to be kept there for the Buddha to find later.

 

Later, we happened upon a shaded area of shops and found a small cracker making shop that had people crowded around it. They had their open ovens available for all to witness their process. I saw a man pick hot coals up with his bare hands and put them in a larger oven. They would then meticulously shift the coals over the small bins of crackers until they were a golden brown. Marla purchased one and they were quite good having a bit of soy sauce saltiness to them.

 

We continued our  stroll through the small crowded streets getting wary of the heat and people. With nothing but a purchased cracker in our hands, we decided to head back towards home but we didn’t realize how far we had traveled and it took us about 45 minutes to get back to our original station to catch the Asakusa line back to the Shinjuku line and then home.

 

On the way, we saw a huge crowd gathering in a shaded area, which contained of all things, a wrestling ring.  Our curiosity got the better of us, and we opted to check out the action.  

 

On our way home in Shinjuku station we decided to load up on snacks as it wasn’t quite dinner time for us, around 3 pm. We once again went through our favorite enclosed farmer’s market. We ogled the sweets at each counter not really knowing exactly what they were, but knowing that everything we have tried has been delicious. We purchased 100g each of dried strawberries and mango. These were quite expensive comparatively but they were very good. Traveling up several flights of stairs (we’re beginning to see why there really isn’t a larg e population of fat people here) we found Starbucks and enjoyed pointing to the drinks we wanted. I made a mistake by handing money over to the cashier instead of putting on the provided money plate. D’oh! We sat for awhile and once again people watched fascinated by the style of the women, always dressed to go out no matter what they’re doing. Several of the outfits would suit Marla just fine if she had an extra $1000 lying around.

 

Settling back at the hotel room, good ol’ 2915 Keio Plaza, we napped and awaited the night. I wanted to go exploring and see what our bit of city looked like at night. We’re finding ourselves settling in at Shinjuku. We consider it coming home now  when we travel, sighing out as we see it. Knowing we’re back where we can relax. But the lights came up and the city had a rebirth. Restaurants we never knew existed came to life because we could see their lights several flights up. We had forgotten to look upwards to find stores and shops, not remembering that Tokyo is a vertical city. Americans build out, they build up. We found a place called “1000” and went up the 5 flights in a small elevator to be greeted by a long queue line, so we decided to try one of the small street level restaurants. Our waiter spoke English enough that we explained what to order. Settling upon chicken rice bowls, Hamachi sashimi and a glass of overfilled Saki for me. It was quite g