Hiroshima (and Okonomiyaki)

We arrived in Hiroshima on a bitingly cold morning. I hadn't been sure what to expect of the town which is known, lets face it, for one thing and one thing only, a huge and awful atomic bomb. It would have felt wrong not to visit at all and to fly past on a Shinkansen train bound for somewhere more "fun". Equally though, there is something a little ghoulish about only visiting somewhere because of its disastrous history. It was therefore with a little personal trepidation that we pulled into Hiroshima station.

What struck me first was quite how well developed the main town is considering its comparative youth. Other than in the Peace Park by the river, there are no apparent signs remaining of the city's destruction and it is a quiet but thriving city.

As we wandered arond the children's peace monument looking at the strings of brightly coloured origami birds of peace sent to Hiroshima from children's schools all around Japan, a visiting group of children assembled into a group and began to sing first in unison before building into a crescendo of three part harmony. Their sweetness and innocence contrasted so poignantly with the horror of what had happened before. Even cynical old me may have shed a tear. Like the use of poppies in the UK to mark Remembrance Day, the little origami birds of peace are a pretty way to teach children about the ills of war and also to never forget but look forward.

Visiting schools leave chains of little coloured birds that they have made back in the classroom which are then subsequently displayed in glass cases surrounding the children's monument. 

After a morning spent reflecting in the Peace Park in biting winds we needed both heat and sustenance and in Hiroshima there is no better place to get local food than Okonomimura, a multistorey building in the Shintenchi district packed to the rafters with small oknomiyaki outlets offering different versions where you follow your nose until you find one that you particularly like.  Its origins lie in many family owned street food stalls who all grouped together into one building; like a sort of old Japanese version of Hawker House. Although they all serve okonomiyaki there are lots of variations on a theme, some offer buckwheat pancakes, some are vegetarian or specialise in seafood- you have to browse to find the right one for you. This is the true origin of the dish; "okonomi" meaning "whatever you like" and "yaki" meaning "cooked". The primary difference between the okonomiyaki of Hiroshima versus that of Osaka is that in Osaka the ingredients are mixed together before cooking, more in the style of a giant omelette whereas in Hiroshima they start with the egg before layering vegetables, noodles and other options such as squid, shrimp, chicken or cheese on top.

Upon taking a seat at the counter surrounding the hot plate you are issued with what looks like a plastering or polyfilla blade. The dish is layered up in front of you on the sizzling griddle; onions then egg, then cheese and noodles. Last of all is the rich, brown, tangy traditional okonmiyaki sauce and a creamy sauce. 

 Its not the most sophisticated dish in the world and its a messy, hot business eating it as you are hovering over a sizzling hot plate but its about as tasty and filling as you can get for the price and well worth the experience.

Miyajima Island, Japan

Itsukishima Island is just an hour away from Hiroshima and easily accessible by train and a short ferry ride. Better known by the descriptive name of 'Miyajima Island' or 'Shrine Island', it is unlike anywhere else that I saw on my trip to Japan and was one of my favourite stopovers. It is perhaps most famous for the giant Torii gate out at sea, accessible on foot when the tide is out and appearing to float when the sea is in. At just under 12 square miles it is navigable by foot and has very little traffic.

The island gets awashed with Japanese tourists arriving on the regular passenger ferries, especially at the weekend, so if you can stay at a ryokan overnight you really get to see a different and much more peaceful side to the community once the last ferry disappears onto the horizon and the chatter melts away. 

Like Nara, the island is home to lots of small, wild but very friendly Sika deer who trot up and down the streets occasionally begging for food but generally ignoring the alien invaders many of whom treat them with a great deal of respect as they are considered to be sacred under Shinto religion.

Most towns and areas of Japan have their own special, local sweet delicacy to be taken back to friends and colleagues as a token from your trip. On Miyajima this comes in the form of the Momiji manju, a maple leaf shaped cake that can either be served plain or with various fillings. We tried custard, jam, cinnamon, red bean paste, chocolate, apple and pistachio, some were better than others (hold the bean paste for me please.....)

Lunch consisted of a selection of random street foods. "Meat sticks" were a lot more tasty than they sound, we devoured various shapes, colours and sizes including crab, asparagus & bacon and octopus amongst others. Nothing gourmet but they were good and filled a gap keeping us warm from the biting wind on the seafront.

One of the other island specialities is charcoal grilled oysters with numerous vendors out on the street calling at you to attract you to their wares. I'm never going to be an oyster fan unfortunately so the sales patter fell on deaf ears.

Although the island is small and easily negotiable on foot, the other option for getting about is in a manpowered rickshaw which plenty of the Japanese tourists were taking advantage of. It seemed like the epitome of laziness whilst I was walking along the flat town roads, when I got a further up the hill in the ten minute walk to the cable car I was starting to be a little envious.  Crowning over the island is Mount Misen at around 500m which may not seem enormous but is very prominent on such a tiny island. Although you can climb all the way to the top of the mountain if you're so inclined, we caught the two staged, kilometre long cable cars up to the top and then had a bit of a wander, visiting the small temple but unfortunately didn't see any of the wild monkeys that the signs warn you about. On a clear day you do, however get a 360 degree view out over the ocean and back to Hiroshima.

Whilst the whole island is designated as a World Heritage Site it is at the top of Misen that one of the most important sites is located. Reikado Hall is home to a cauldron that has an eternally burning flame tended by resident monks who glide serenely around the plaza outside the Hall and ensuring that The sacred flame in the cauldron was the one used to light the flame at the peace monument in Hiroshima.

Our ryokan, Ryoso Kawaguchi,  was quite a small one set back on a street parallel to the main sea front tourist thrust. The day that we arrived we were the only non Japanese guests which meant quite an audience at dinner intrigued as to how we would react to ryokan food. Kawaguchi had two onsen bathing rooms, one with a very large onsen that would have fitted at least six to sit  (or just me wallowing about like a hippo in the steam) It really is a very relaxing way to spend the early evening floating around in gloriously warm water before retiring to your room to put on your yukata coat and slippers ready for dinner. Unlike many ryokan where dinner is served in your room at low table on the tatami mat, dinner at Kawaguchi was served in a main dining room downstairs. The meal was served kaiseki style as a series of small courses although scaled down slightly from the traditional full 14 dish offering.

The opening course of seared salmon sashimi was delicate but beautifully flavoured, quite literally melting in the mouth, orange juice giving it a contrasting citrus tang.

Unagi- the evil bony eel!

Unagi was cooked well with a sweet teriyake style coating and served with wasabi broccoli but the tiny bones in the eel and the accompanying skin put me off too much. It is however, considered to be a valuable delicacy so in it went with a smile on my face. 

The Mukōzuke was sashimi of sea bream and mackerel. Tasty and prettily served on a tiny dish.  
The Shiizakana course is usually the most substantial of the meal and in this case was a pork hot pot. 


The ingredients are served chilled and fresh on a tray and you then cook them in the broth as you like it. The broth was unusually creamy but quite delicious based on clams and the slices of raw pork loin cooked in only a couple of minutes. Additions of enoki mushrooms and a pak choi/ cabbage like vegetable added crunch. Small chinks of silken tofu added yet another textural dimension.

Another course of seared beef served with spring onion and yuzu was excellent and I could quite merrily have just eaten a large plate of the beef with some rice and been more than happy. I can't quite find a course within the traditional kaiseki meal that fits the beef so I think we were probably winging it a bit. The next course of tamago and snow peas was a delicate end to the savoury part of the meal.

\

Sake very much....

The Mizumono conclusion to the meal was  an orange sorbet acting as an effective palate cleanser.

The ryokan was also the location of our first taste of sake during the trip. I had tried sake in England but only ever had it served hot which I didn't like and rather short sightedly it had put me off. I don't know why it had never occurred to me just how varied sake can be, after all if wine can be broad in its styles and appeal then there is no reason why sake can't be either. This one had a very delicate, slightly sweet flavour and was served ice cold.

Although after a relaxing onsen and slow paced dinner it is very tempting to retire for the night in a happy glow, but if you visit Miyajima please, please do make the effort to drag yourself back outside and go for a walk at night. The knee high stone lanterns along the sea front are lit and provide the only light by which to navigate the island as by nightfall all the shops are shut and boarded up for the night. A quiet peace falls broken only by the wind whispering through the lanes. The entire island is a very different place to the brightly lit, gaudy rows thronging with crowds souvenir hunting during the day. 

Personally I couldn't go to Japan and do an entire trip purely of ryokan stays. Whatever any die hard purists will tell you to the contrary, tatami mats are not comfortable and despite layering up the mats a la princess and the pea, it is still not a good night's sleep.  Doing everything at floor level is also kind of touch on the knees. I hate old that makes me sound and feel but sadly its true! It's a great experience and lots of fun to dress up in a yukata etc but you do find yourself thinking about mattresses and duvets in a much more obsessed and yearning way than seems entirely right. 

Ryoso Kawaguchi

739-0500 469 Miyajima-cho Saeki-gun,

Osaka. Or a tale of Katsu, Crab, Sumo and Korean BBQ

Its no secret that Japan is now the most Michelin starred country in the world outstripping the French by some margin. Although Michelin have managed to gain entry through the secretive doors of many of these eateries the fact remains that for non Japanese speakers access to many remains nigh on impossible. Perhaps we hadn't really researched Osaka enough compared to other cities but this is how it felt to us, either you stick to the main neon thrust of Dotonbori or doors remain rather closed. 

In order not to completely break the bank we therefore opted to save our Michelin starred restaurant outings for Kyoto and Tokyo a decision which, whilst I am sure is doing other cities such as Osaka and Hiroshima a culinary disservice, seemed wise if we were to even remotely avoid the wrath of the bank manager. We therefore chose to use other cities to explore the panopoly of types of Japanese dish and styles of cuisine on offer.

Every guidebook will tell you to go to the Snow Crab restaurant on Dotonbori in Osaka. How do you know which restaurant it is? Easy! There's a massive great crab attached to the outside. I love crab, especially the inordinately sweet meat of giant snow crab legs and it was something we hadn't eaten so far so we thought we'd give it a go. Like many tourist friendly locations in Japan the window of the restaurant had plastic reincarnations of the foods contained in the dish which were pretty much essential if you wanted to know what you would be eating. We homed in on a fixed price deal with a range of crab dishes included and went on in. We sat down in an almost empty but pretty restaurant overlooking the river and were handed menus. Completely different menus to the ones displayed outside. Menus that were VERY different in both price and content so we walked straight out again.  This was the only time that we felt ripped off or treated like idiot tourists in Japan so I'm happy to say that this kind of incident was very much in the minority. The same company has a restaurant in Shinjuku, Tokyo also and is renowned so perhaps this was a one off. 

By this time tummies were rumbling and I might have been becoming a little hangry so the race was on to find food and fast.. We selected what turned out to be a Korean style barbecue also located on the main Dotonburi stretch. Dark as can be inside and boiling hot, it crossed my mind we had wandered inadvertently into the depths of hell but we left wondering how we had lived without Korean barbecue.

Our neighbours were Osaka locals and after thinly veiled amusement at our puzzled faces explained how the menu and cooking process worked and were particularly helpful when the flames got a bit too high endangering eyebrows (solution:sling ice cubes on quick).  We ordered various plates of different cuts of beef, pork loin, streaky bacon and even some vegetables. Its hot, its messy and you will leave reeking of charcoal smoke and cooking fat but its utterly delicious.

SUMOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!

Our entire three week itinerary had been carefully designed around a major sumo championship in Osaka. I'd always assumed that sumo would be a regular occurrence throughout Japan however this is not the case. There are only six major tournaments each year. Although the day starts at 8.30am we had been advised not to arrive before lunchtime which turned out to be a very good tip as the locals didn't show up until at least 3pm. As we entered the building we were given the foreigner's basic guide to sumo and its rules which was invaluable as frankly it would have just been a  bunch of fat blokes staggering around otherwise.

Throwing the salt

I shan't pretend to remember the intricacies of Sumo rules and tradition other than to say that if you're ever in Japan it's a sight worth seeing and a good day out. It is highly tactical and involves a lot of mind play trying to psych out your opposition. What also became clear was that it wasn't necessarily the biggest sumo that won, on occasion a much smaller man would come up to compete against some monolith of a man and win. The most expensive tickets are the ones down by the matting, with only cushions to sit or recline on.

I had been hoping to find some interesting street food offerings inside the Sumo stadium but had to make do with some prawn crisps and a can of chilled Asahi, such is life!

The last fight of the day was clearly eagerly anticipated by all as the noise as the sumos approached the mat was thunderous. After much posturing and thigh slapping battle commenced. A couple of short minutes later and the champion had been vanquished, ousted from the ring by his underdog opponent. Padded seating mats from around the stadium were thrown up in the air like hats on graduation day leading to chaos. In true Japanese style though, order was quickly resumed as the audience were marshalled outside into the pouring rain bang on 6pm (got to love Japanese punctuality).

We took shelter in what quickly became the best katsu curry restaurant of the entire trip located right opposite the stadium. This was also my first experience of meal ticket vending machines where you have to pay at a ticket machine reminiscent of a car park machine in the UK and a meal ticket is dispensed which you hand to the chef. No money changes hands making the whole process very streamlined. This truly is fast food Japanese style.  I love katsu. I am now well aware that admitting this is the Japanese equivalent of confirming out loud that you're a big fan of Kentucky Fried Chicken but that is the way it is. The gentle curry sauce is unlike anything you will find elsewhere. It has no recognisable spices in it and is, effectively, brown gloop. But combine it with succulent pork escalope, dipped in panko breadcrumbs and flash fried before being placed on a bed of fluffy rice and you have Japanese fast food heaven.

My Japanese is sadly lacking but I'm pretty confident
that this sign meant "watch out, its spicy!"

Travel: Kamakura, Japan

Kamakura is less than an hour's train journey outside Tokyo (50km SW) and well worth a day trip (easily doable in a day). Catch the train from Tokyo station near Ginza and you're good to go. It may seem like a sleepy little town but it is riddled with a high density of some of the most beautiful shrines and temples in Japan. This is all because for nearly 200 years in the 12th and 13th centuries Kamakura was the political capital and heartland of Japan. 

I recommend getting off the train one station early at Kitakamakura where you can find two of the "Five Zen Temples" of Kamakura including Engaku-ji and Kencho-ji. Also worth a visit is Shoreiin which is a bit less touristy but just as lovely as the main ones. Engaku-ji dates back to 1282 and these days has a very good tea shop at the top run by monks. You can then just hop back on the train for the last remaining stop when you are done.

Once you get to Kamakura town jump on the smaller scenic train (you can't use a Japan Rail pass for this but its only a couple of pounds) and this will take you to the Giant Buddha.  

The giant buddha used to be housed in a hangar like shelter however during a storm some years ago the shelter was destroyed and the Buddha has happily sat outside ever since being brought flowers and fruit like an ageing relative. 

After the bright lights and 24 hour hustle and bustle of Tokyo it is nice to take a day to wander around a peaceful town where - other than the tourists- little seems to have changed. Incense wafts through the air as monks chant and distant bells toll calling their acolytes to prayer. You could be in an all together different world. 

The traditional Japanese version of the beer mat flipping game - honest....

Its not just all about the temples, Kamakura is on the coast and has some great beaches and also good seafood restaurants although having spent the morning at Tsukiji fish market we were all fished out for the day. 

oh and there's ice cream too...

There are a couple of street stalls in Kamakura and around the station selling various local specialities that are worth checking out (including some odd looking pigeon shaped biscuits!).  Granted they don't look great in the picture and "golden fried meat cake" isn't the most appetising description I've ever heard but I promise they are delicious, something a little like a Dutch bitterballen in various flavours.

Tuna, Tsukiji Fish Market and Some Six AM Sushi

Tsukiji Fish Market is listed in the guidebooks as one of the “must sees” in Tokyo and is reputed to be the largest fish market in the world selling in excess of 2000 tonnes of fish and seafood each day. Having been affected by the March 2011 earthquake the market had closed down to tourists for a period of time however online founts of knowledge seemed to think it was open again but on a more limited scale; only 120 people per day.

I don't 'do' queuing. I rarely go anywhere that requires lining up and just waiting. There usually have to be significant quantities of free alcohol or very reduced handbags to get me standing nose to tail with other people. This is why I hate the current London trend for no reservations in restaurants, it just makes me feel as though the owners are making a mockery of their customers. Sometimes, however, there are things that you know you are only going to get one shot at, things that come around once in most people's lifetimes.  This is how and why I found myself getting out of bed at 4am to drag my bleary eyed corpse into a taxi to get down to Tsukiji for 4.30am. Although the market itself opens at 3am with auctions beginning at around 5am tours don't begin until around 6am. The queue for tours allegedly opened at 5am so 4.30am seemed 'reasonable' in the circumstances. The queue already snaked around the outside of the market building and we were marshalled into line by an understandably grumpy old man.

It turned out that we had scraped in by the skin of our teeth as everyone arriving after us was turned away. 'Too late' by 4.40am. If you do make it into the queue you will have a long, cold wait ahead of you until doors open at 6. You really do need to be committed to seeing fish get sold! 
After an hour's wait out on the street we were issued with hi vis tabards of the sort I used to wear playing netball as a teen, not a good look over layers of jumpers and coats... After all this hassle you might begin to question why anyone would be this excited about a fish. I certainly did but when you read some of the statistics online about the market you begin to realise how important it is to the fish industry globally. Over 30,000 people are employed within the market. I had always assumed - quite wrongly as it turned out- that the fish coming through Tsukiji would have been Japanese caught. It is more than likely that fish have been shipped in from as far afield as Australia, Spain, the US or Scandinavia.

How ironic that a fish caught by trawlers sailing out of New England's major ports can make its way to Tsukiji for auction before being shipped back to the top sushi restaurants of New York or LA.  A sort of post-mortem migration.

The only auction accessible to the public is the one for frozen tuna. Frozen tuna tends to have a more reliable price range as it is harder to buyers to assess the quality so they are no so prepared to take a gamble on the price of what they are bidding for. That said, it is not to say that fresh tuna is "better" than frozen, many of the frozen fish have been frozen immediately from the sea in blast freezers which some argue captures the ultimate freshness of the fish. Others argue that tuna can improve with age both in flavour and texture although to me this may be a justification for the length of time it takes to ship fish from four corners of the planet  to Japan then back out again.  I like my beef well hung but maybe not so much my tuna.

In the run up to the auction buyers with numbered plaques tucked into their caps wander round with a torch and sticks poking at the frozen tuna lined up on the ground. Considering the combined value of the fish- it is not infrequent for single fish to sell for tens of thousands of pounds-  it seems strange to see them lying around on the floor being prodded at.  Small slices are cut into each fish so that the buyers can shine their torches through the meat and also through the fins to assess the quality of the meat. Apparently a two second glance at a thin slice of meat can give a practised tuna buyer a good understanding of how oily the fish is, whether it was healthy when alive and how old it is in just the same way that an oenophile might examine a glass of Bordeaux.

Most recently one bluefish tuna sold for in excess of $1.75 million, crazy money for one fish. That said this sort of sum needs to be put into context in terms of what the fish can be sold on for. It is rare that one outlet will take the whole fish. it is usually bought by a fish trader from within the market who then slices it carefully and sells on parcels. An average sized blue fin tuna can make in excess of 8000 individual pieces of sushi if cut by a master carver. 

The sale itself is kind of crazy. One man with a handbell like the one used by a town crier stands on a crate and an element of hush descends. Quiet before the storm.....

When the bell rings the auctioneer begins a tirade of shouting and gesticulating that leads you to the conclusion that war may have just been declared rather than a fish been sold. These manic arm movements and shouts continue until the last fish in the row has been sold. The whole cast of players then take a few minutes to regroup and poke at the next row of fish before the whole shebang starts over.

Once each fish has been sold a red mark indicating the new owner and agreed price is painted on the flesh in red.  Porters with trolleys come in and haul the frozen fish onto a trolley for the next stage in its onward journey.

It is an interesting experience to see the auction process but compared to the chilly wait it does seem over before its begun and you are ushered out into the dawning sunlight. The route through the market takes you past stalls with giant bandsaws cutting the newly purchased tuna into large chunks. Trolleys whizz past with varieties of fish that you are never likely to see on the Waitrose fish counter or, frankly, anywhere in the British Isles. Seafood of every shape, size and colour has a place and a willing palate somewhere in the market.
After the tour we wandered round the market past the small Shinto shrine where fisherman and marketmen leave their offerings seeking protection and luck from the sea. In all honesty they would be better off seeking protection from the motorised forklift trucks being driven at demented speeds by tired looking men in grubby white coats and wellington boots, cigarette inevitably hanging from the sides of their mouths.

Despite the fact that what I really wanted was a return to my bed and something hot for breakfast, it seemed churlish not to sample some of the wares whilst within the market walls. So, off to choose a sushi restaurant for breakfast. Although there are plenty of places selling food many are targeted at the market workers and don't actually sell sushi, the best choice can be found in the fruit and vegetable area of the market at the lower Shinohashi side of the market.
 

The majority of people were headed for Sushi Dai which is reputed to be the best sushi house in the market (or maybe just the most famous). Of almost paralelled renown is Daiwa in the same strip of eateries.The queue was already very long with an estimated wait time of 2 to 2.5 hours. Having already spent what felt like half the night queuing to see the fish get sold I'm afraid my British queuing gene deserted me and we opted for elsewhere. It seems to me that it would be hard for a bad sushi house to continue right alongside the sushi Kings and I'm always reassured when you see locals eating somewhere so we jumped into the first restaurant with a few seats already taken and got ordering.

We chose a selection box of sashimi and seafood then ordered some additional tuna so that we could compare different grades of tuna side by side. Toro tuna or "fatty tuna" is quite distinctive compared to the standard grade style of tuna used in basic sushi.

The more fatty the tuna becomes the lighter the colour of its flesh and the more marbling that you tend to see. Grades range from maguro (which is the most lean and pinky/red tuna) to chu toro,  to toro, through to oo toro which is taken from the under belly of the fish. We opted for toro.  This is where I may demonstrate that I truly am a fish philistine. Yes, there was definitely a difference in terms of colour and the texture difference was very pronounced (it is truly "fatty" leaving an oily slick on your lips and teeth). I'm afraid that whilst I'm game for trying any well, game, on the meat front unknown sea products leave me a bit squeamish so we stuck to what we knew, mackerel, salmon, bit of octopus, that kind of thing....

It was fantastic to try fish so icy fresh but in all honesty I can't see myself making a habit of sushi for breakfast. They can definitely keep the weird yellow spongy stuff that seemed to be like a cross between tripe and roe.

The snow crab claws were the absolute highlight for me; beautifully sweet and fleshy. I also loved the little sweet prawns or ama-ebi that are so different to the frozen squiggly little things we get in the shops in the UK. 

If you are in Tokyo it is worth the visit just because it is so different to anything else you will experience. The early morning start isn't as hideous as I make it sound. After all, the jet lag will have you up with the fishmongers anyway....

Tales of a Travelling Tummy: Shinjuku, Tokyo. Beer, Katsu and Roast Chicken's Bottoms

24 Hours into my first trip to Japan and this is probably the first (and maybe only) time in my life that I have felt like Scarlett Johanssen; well her character at any rate. Yes, it's true, I'm feeling a little Lost in Translation. Wandering around the restaurants and izakaya of downtown Shinjuku and,  despite the pictures of dishes and the "helpful" plastic replicas of what your food just might look like, I'm hard pushed to make a decision. Sushi or donburi or udon or yakitori or katsu or one place that seems to serve a raw egg in the middle of every dish? Decisions, decisions. A monster case of jet lag isn't helping matters much by making me feel like I'm trapped in a bubble with a whole crazy new world spinning by outside. Menus proudly bearing English descriptions such as "fried crabs brain" or "fish stomach" make the mind reel;  how big can a crab's brain be and is it really something that should be served on a a nigiri style blob of rice? Am I a total coward for not rushing to try the weirdest thing that I can see pictorially depicted on the menu?

The eerily misty skyline proves its inspiration for　Bladerunner as skyscrapers seem endless as they disppear into the clouds and fog. Walking down a side street my senses are assaulted by the door to a Pachinko parlour springing open to hurl its latest victims back out into the street (a kind of gambling version of pinball). Music blasts out and the open door allows a peep at the rows upon rows of weekending Japanese avidly glued to the flashing machines. Stumbling round and round the endless neon lanes near the hotel, we finally settle on a small izakaya near our starting point, ain't that always the way? My first lunch in Tokyo consists of some little gyoza, more powerful in flavour than their English counterparts, little pouches of pork and cabbage seasoned beautifully, crisp and browned on one side from the frying pan that I can see just through the curtain, spilling grease spots across the liquid surface of the soy dipping sauce that I douse them in. Chicken balls in a sweet teriyaki sauce hold just the slightest bite of chilli with a spring onion and ginger salad. A pork katsu and noodle ramen floats with sliced bamboo and a slightly odd flavour (might not have that one again....)

Dinner involves slightly more exploration, but not much, I'm not that brave yet! Omoide- Yokocho is a narrow, unobtrusive side street off the main Shinjuku thrust full of tiny restaurants, some only just wide enough for a narrow bar and four or five stools. Plastic sheets come down when a venue is full and most of them are. We fix on a slightly larger 5 table venue due to the pictures of yakitori. The shouts of welcome on entry from all the kitchen and waiting staff are slightly unnerving but you soon come to realise that being screeched at on arrival somewhere is a good thing (really!) 

A welcome amuse bouche is served consisting of a small sesame seed strewn salad, tempura of tofu and a really tasty dressing oozing the ubiquitous umami savoury flavour that lights up the taste buds and for which Japan is so famous. Small tasting yakitori sticks of roast mushroom, peppers, tempura octopus and grilled pork ensue. "Chicken tail and roast garlic" is indeed just that, chicken's bottoms on a stick. Kind of tasty though once you get over the fact that you are eating a chicken's rear end. 

A plate of greasy yaki soba fried noodles interlaced with cabbage and pork ups the carb intake washed down with a pint of Kirin beer. Other diners are all friendly, ushering us to try pickled vegetables from their table (much lighter and less sharp than pickled anything in the UK). They wonder at the fact we have chosen to holiday for two whole weeks in the the land of the rising sun, tourism has been on the wane since last year's earthquake and, considering blossom season is nearly upon us, it doesn't seem to have fully picked back up yet. A man next to us attempts to eat a baked potato with chopsticks proving the grass is always greener, here we are looking to eat much loved Japanese dishes in their country of origin and he is struggling with what we consider basic comfort food back at home. A stroll back to the hotel confirms a few Japanese stereotypes. Gaggles of giggling girls queue up outside karaoke parlours whilst a spew of besuited young businessmen stumble out into the street after one sake too many uttering a "sumimasen" (that's "pardon me" to you and me)and they disappear off into the night.

Stopping by a 24 hr 7Eleven for water leads to an accidental purchase of green tea ice cream, its Haagen Daz but not as we know it! Rich in matcha flavour and less sweet than we are used to, its enjoyable and very very green.

Fears about everything being super expensive in Japan are waylaid, although the Yen is incredibly strong, lunch comes to around six pounds each and dinner to around fifteen. Time to crash and burn as jet lag finally takes over. Tomorrow brings another day with a whole host of strange new opportunities.