The fifth day of touring started a bit more slowly than the first four; there comes a point, you know? If there hadn’t still been so much I wanted to see, I might well have stayed in bed, but as it was…
“A taste of old Tokyo,” is how this shopping street in Ueno is billed:
Now, as someone who’s never been to “old Tokyo” perhaps I’m not really qualified to comment, but if I wanted to have all of my senses assaulted at once, I wouldn’t have to have crossed half the world for it. Dried seaweed and mushrooms that smell like embalming fluid, every cut of salmon imaginable (and plenty I didn’t know existed), and those were the fun parts: the rest was a jumble of knock-offs, counterfeits, and generally uninteresting items all being hawked incessantly by hyperactive merchants, speckled occasionally with violently bright pachinko parlors.
Oh, and clubs like “Splash Mountains.” In case the silhouettes of women on the sign didn’t tip you off, below was their slogan: “Love For Sale.”
All I’d wanted were some kitschy souvenirs, but apparently this was a different kind of “old Tokyo,” without any of the clichéd silk or steel I was in the market for.
Fortunately, there was (yet another) park in the area: a more developed one, with plenty of shrines, statues, restaurants, an amusement park and (joy of joys) a zoo.
With pandas.
I had every intention of making a beeline for the zoo, but when I wasn’t busy getting lost, I was getting hopelessly sidetracked; there really was just so much to see.
I was particularly mesmerized by this shrine:
It had this thing, an eternal flame memorial, that…well. Read for yourself; click the link for the larger (as in “legible”) image:
By the time I eventually made my way to the zoo’s main gate, it had just closed. I mean…just. But there was also a sign warning visitors that there were no longer any giant pandas–although I think that perhaps there was still some other kind? Because a million vendors were crammed around the entrance, and they were all selling panda merchandise. Maybe it was just wishful thinking?
At the end of the park I ran into the Tokyo National Museum, and wished I’d just gone there–like, first thing in the morning. There aren’t words strong enough for the sense of peace there, the dark quiet–except, of course, for wherever I happened to be, since I had managed to wear the world’s loudest shoes for the occasion. But still, I could’ve spent half the day (tiptoe-ing, or trying–it’s tough in heels) just looking at the stunning lacquer, the bright, fierce swords…and the decorated paper was probably even more amazing. Some items (ritual pieces) had specific “No Pictures” signs, but there was just this atmosphere…it seemed like photos were just Not Okay.
So I shut off the shutter sound and snapped a few from my hip pocket:
Also–and I don’t want to sound like a crazy person here–but I think I saw the Emperor on the way out. I mean, I definitely saw Someone Important, but that’s just my best guess–older guy, wearing white, psychotically heavy security?
When we stragglers were leaving the museum just ahead of the closing staff, there was…I don’t know. Everyone ahead of me was standing under the portico–only maybe ten-fifteen people, but none of them was heading for the street. Spotting a museum employee on the stairs scanning the crowd, I took a wild guess and stopped walking. I thought that the atmosphere was pretty obvious–stay put–but apparently I am a minority unto myself, because the poor staffer spent the next five minutes running around like headless chicken after patrons who wandered through the still crowd without putting the one two with the other two, and stepped off the veranda.
Finally the motorcade pulled up to the next building, where a crew of ground security was surrounding a gaggle of reporters who all went absolutely crazy when my mystery man stepped out. So…you tell me.
