Backpacking

Ikebukuro Station is where I got my first real feel of Tokyo's buzz. In the main concourse below the tracks, hundreds of people were walking everywhere in a huge expanse. Ticket machines were jabbering Japanese, announcements blared out, and jingles reminiscent of a ZX Spectrum sounded out before a train departed.

Coming out of the station, I chanced upon an Australian couple who must have been on the same train. They'd been travelling for 6 months through Europe and Japan was their last stop. We were staying in the same hostel, so we walked together to Kimi-Ryokan (a Ryokan is a traditional Japanese inn). The place was down a quiet sidestreet, with the door (through which I had to duck) adorned by flags. Inside, we had to remove our shoes straight away and proceed only by sock. On registration we were given a

towel and a migraine-inducing yukata (kimono-type robe thing) to wear about the place. Not that I did - after only 3 hours sleep in 2 days, I had held out for as long as my body would let me, and I collapsed on my futon.

Day 3: 2nd February Flogging a Dead Fish

Kawaguchi-ko, Japan

This morning I went to the Tsukiji Fish Market first thing - I was up at 4am thanks to jetlag, so thought why not - apparently it's THE place to go if you like dead fish. It's a strange place to visit, particularly because it's situated a stone's throw from the distinctly upmarket, skyscraper district of Ginza. One minute you're caught up in a wave of industrious Japanese rushing to work (there's that word again I don't understand), the next a man driving what's best described as a motorised barrel is trying to mow you down with his cargo of bleeding fishheads. Still, there were an amazing variety of fish and crustaceans on show, some dead, some still living - and I even asked one proud merchant (in Japanese, no less! Get me!) to pose for a picture.

Then I reluctantly moved out of Tokyo (to return in two weeks when Tak et al arrive) to the Mount Fuji area.