kobe, and tokyo one last time.

Basically, we had one afternoon in Kobe. So we ran around like idiots for a few hours.

First, stop, of course, was a ridiculously expensive lunch at a hibachi-like grill restaurant, because beef. (For me, Kobe beef is way, way too fatty, but at least our very pleasant chef knew what he was doing. Also, the veggies he grilled for us were incredible.)

After lunch, it was time for a little exploring. See, this is what I would have chosen for lunch. (I just don't necessarily need to see my eels swimming about before I munch them; that's getting way too close to the source, and that's how Sarah becomes a vegetarian.)

 Next, I discovered that Kobe is a manhole-cover-enthusiast's dream.

And I don't even think I got them all. Marvelous.

Traipsed through the Ikuta shrine, likely established in the 3rd century...

...took a quick visit to Japan's oldest mosque (built in 1935, and untouched during both WWII and the catastrophic earthquake of 1995)...

...and wound up in the funny little Kitano district, which became the neighborhood of wealthy western merchants and diplomats in the late 19th century, after the Port of Kobe opened to foreign trade. We started out in the French House, which was full of Art Nouveau magnificence, as one might imagine. (That's a real Tiffany there.)

It also had this whimsical upstairs bedroom decorated in the silliest paintings of animals...

...and this out in the hallway. I'm pretty sure I need this in my house.

Well hello, Mr. Gallé.

And bon jour to the Daum brothers as well.

Picture-framed peephole into a room containing only a jackalope in Ben's House (...of Horrors, is how I think of it. Trophy hunting is just evil.).

William Morris fabrics in the English house...

...the entire second floor of which was devoted to Sherlockiana. Because of course.

We headed back to our hotel at the port, where we visited one of the city's earthquake memorials--this bit of harbor left in disrepair. 

That earthquake occurred in 1995; nearly 6500 people died and over 20% of the buildings in central Kobe were completely destroyed. Something like 300 fires broke out in the damaged areas, and multi-level highways like the one in the background collapsed completely. The city has more-or-less recovered, physically--it's quite beautiful, especially the port area with the mountains behind it--but the earthquake is very clearly still a constant presence here.

I will admit, however, that it was difficult to focus on the earthquake memorial with this going on behind us in the rugby FanZone area. We'd manage to steer clear of those the rest of the time, but the music hooked us on this one. I could have watched these guys play all day. (The drama of that gong alone...!)

Said FanZone was abuzz 'cause of this: the Scotland-Samoa game, which Scotland actually won, so yaaay!

There were at least two pipers in the crowd...

...and I got to see my favorite ref, Nigel Owens, in action. (Well, on the sidelines, but still.)

Post-game, we made our way back into the city center for some late-nite okonomiyaki, our first and only of the trip, in a wee little hole-in-the-wall restaurant filled entirely by 4 of the chef's friends, who were clearly just hanging out and chatting with him after dinner. They were very welcoming and friendly with us, and the chef made us two extraordinary pancakes, one with seafood and one with pork. (I had no idea that this is how they're served: on your very own grill-table, so that each bite is hot and crispy. Yes, please.)

Strolled past the entrance to Kobe's Chinatown on the walk back to our hotel.

The next day, it was back to Tokyo for a couple of nights prior to our flight home, and our first stop was the teamLab Borderless digital art museum(ish). Which looks utterly magical online, and probably would have been, had it not been waaaaaaaaaay too jammed with people. If they'd meter that better, this place could be insanely cool.

A few things were nifty, even so, like this room draped with thousands of color-changing strings of LEDs, and with mirrors on the floor.

And this room, also paneled in mirrors, with hundreds of these little hanging lanterns that change brightness when you move towards them.

And this room, covered in moving projections of flowers everywhere. (Could use a room like this in my house.)

There was also a room where kids could draw something, then scan it in and have it animated as a projection on the floors and walls, and another with these little magnetic shapes that you could move around and have interact with these little elves projected on the walls; those were both pretty magical, but again, just insanely crowded. At least we didn't feel like we were missing out on anything when we bailed out to go to dinner at Birdland, which has a stellar reputation for yakitori, but just didn't turn out to be our thing. (Frankly, my favorite thing on the menu was the simply-dressed mesclun and tomato salad. It was so good I had two.)

And then we went out for an all-too-brief, yet all-too-late, but very swanky, karaoke session, with some non-rugby-playing friends (and a handful of their various family members) who were also in town...to see some rugby. (Srsly, do we run with the rugby crowd nowadays, or what.) Tremendously kind of them to invite us!

The next morning we were up wildly early to do something rather special: see a practice session at a sumo stable! And while it's easy to make jokes about the size of those guys, or how much they eat, or whatever, dang, are they impressive in person. I have a whole newfound respect for how hard they work, and for how they essentially commit their entire lives to the sport; most of the lower-in-the-hierarchy athletes live, eat, and train at the stable year-round. Intense. (Also, because of possible likeness issues, you're not supposed to post photos with faces online, so...you're welcome for these terrible homemade edits.)

Practice started off with about a jillion side leg-lifts (with lots of slapping, to wake up the muscles!), then they shuffled around the ring in a chain a few times.

Next came various stretching exercises; don't kid yourself, these guys are crazy strong.

Then came some sparring, and after each bout the wrestlers would each take this surprisingly graceful diving forward-roll motion.

Did you know there aren't weight classes in sumo?? So obviously, for the smaller guys, it's all about technique. (And there were a couple of guys here who were shockingly small.)

At the end came some more leg lifts, then more stretching. Couldn't believe how flexible they are.

At the late hour of 9:30, we were free to go, and headed back to Tsukiji for a little lunch.

Eeeeeeeeeeel! I now know these aren't terribly sustainable, and feel a little guilty about how many we ate while we were over there, but since I can't get them here, I guess the pressure's off. (We also ate a little [underimpressive] grilled tuna, and scored a couple more daifuku--one red bean and one white chocolate. Would eat those every day.)

Of course, I took a ton more photos, because there are all manner of fascinating dried fishy things for sale here that you'd never see in a Stateside (or central European) market.

I sampled most of them.

Tsukiji's got a handful of their own giant animal signs, but obviously, you just can't compete with Dotonbori.

This woman was selling dried squid-for-snacking from these immense barrels; I assume from the quantity she had that this stuff is popular. (I can handle a little dried squid, but not so much; that's a lotta flavor.)

Next stop of this already-too-long day: the Tokyo National Museum. Look. This place has massive and fabulous collections, but for crying out loud: don't use a piece to advertise your museum, if, in fact, said piece is not amongst those collections. It's just mean. I was super excited to see the Great Wave off Kanagawa--probably the most recognizable piece of Japanese art in the world--but hey! It's not at the Tokyo National Museum, despite the fact that it's all over their website and promo materials. Not cool, guys. So once we figured out that the Wave wasn't there, we went looking for this guy, whose face is so famous they actually used it on the Jumbotron at some of the rugby games to get the "kabuki shout"* going 'round the stadium. We really wanted to see this painting, which is apparently in the museum's collections...but had been rotated off of display just because that's a thing they do. Seriously?? That's like the Louvre rotating out the Mona Lisa. This thing is why people come here. Ughhhhhhhh. (Yes, obviously, I was fairly irritated by all of this.) 

Anyway, I guess we saw some other cool stuff.

Like more of those amazing samurai sword guards. Swoon.

They're just so ridiculously beautiful and elaborate.

I really like the jauntiness of these Four Heavenly Kings figures, meant to guard the four cardinal directions near Buddhist temples. (This one is wooden, and survives from the 14th century!)

This elaborate, flame-motif bowl is from 3000-2000 BC.

Obviously, they had plenty of stunning paper- and fabric-based art, like this 16th-century panel from the tale of a sparrow who became a monk...

...and this gorgeous screen painted with the 4 seasons, from the 15th century.

And, of course, actual samurai swords. Plenty of them. (This thing is from the 13th century).

Also a bounty of other arms and armor, like this laced helmet from the 14th century. (It was incredible to me how many absolutely ancient pieces they had here in such stunning condition.)

Ok, fine. Clearly, it wasn't a total loss. In fact, I regret that we didn't have more time to spend there...I just wish we hadn't been misled. Twice.

Dinner on this evening was at a really nice sushi place with a really friendly and fun chef, and with a former co-worker of Mike's who's an absolute hoot, but maaaaan, it just wasn't Fukuzushi...so we were quite pleased afterwards when our final, final choice of the trip--a cocktail omakase at Gen Yamamoto--turned out to be stellar. We got to pick how many (tiny) cocktails we wanted, and then the ridiculously knowledgeable bartender made our various drinks with interesting boozes and delicious fresh ingredients in season from the market. Which, on our particular evening, included physalis, apple, grapes, wasabi, prune, sour plum, shiso, kabosu, pumpkin, and green tea (and some really different and tasty Japanese alcohols).

Along with the delicious flavors, the presentation was beautiful (and wonderfully minimalist). What a treat.

And with that, it was time for us to say goodbye to Japan, which I was very much not ready to do. I, a perennial homebody who's generally ready for my own bed/shower/cats by the end of day 3, was not ready to leave: I needed at least another week. That was well over two months ago, and the place is still in my mind and my heart...and is not likely to vacate any time soon. I attribute that to the beauty of the country and the culture; the insanely good food; the simultaneous, and mysterious, foreignness-yet-familiarity that made me crave more; and, above all, the graciousness of the Japanese people. What wonderful hosts, and what an extraordinary place.

Yeah, I'm gonna go there: domo arigato gozaimasu, Japan. I hope we meet again someday.

And, on an entirely unrelated note: happy holidays to you, my friends. May you have peace and joy and good friends and great food, wherever this season finds you.

*It's the last three seconds of this video. Now imagine a 70,000-plus stadium crowd making this noise. At first, I'm pretty sure we all thought, "Is this racist...?" But we figured if our Japanese hosts were going to encourage us to do this, then we'd go along. And now we have a magnet of this face on our fridge, because it's such a good reminder of the spirit of the games: distinctly Japanese in setting and culture, and everyone joining in to appreciate that. (That's how it felt, anyway. Both our hosts and the rugby crowds were just so warm and congenial.)

tokyo.

Well. I had no intent to do any more blog-writing, probably ever, but Mike seemed weirdly sad that I was going to just let Japan fall by the wayside, so I'm going to give it a try. And do my darndest to keep it all to a manageable length, because it's the near-never-ending-nature of the way I write that makes me want to quit, quit, quit. Of course, this means there's so much to this story that I have to leave out, but that's probably best for everyone's sanity. (Yours included. You're welcome.)

It sounds goofy, but we actually went to Japan because of rugby. The Rugby World Cup, to be exact, since Mike's playing for Rugby Union Zürich has sucked me waaaaaay into that world in the last couple of years, and I've become a bit of a crazed fan. It's just a great sport, played by great people, and it has the most fun fans you can imagine. (Yeah, sure, they drink a lot, but they're jolly drinkers, and everyone's friends after the match, whether player or fan, and there aren't riots like at football matches, and they generally have hilarious post-game traditions, etc., etc.) Plus, Mike went to Japan four years ago and swore up and down that I'd love it, and I've been intrigued by both the place and its foooood for a good while now, so everything just sorta fell into place. Turns out, Mike--and other friends--were right: I did love it. I do. Japan, friends, may be the most interesting place I've ever been: so very foreign, but full of such beauty and food and art and culture and a way of living that emphasizes the community over the whole. I found it very appealing.

But first things first: after deplaning, I somehow always need to find a restroom, and outside this very first one in Tokyo was this live-updating map of which stalls were occupied. I loved Japan immediately.

Then, we checked into our hotel and headed straight for Harajuku...

...and a hedgehog/chinchilla/bunny cafe. I had to, people. Don't judge me.*

There's nothing for scale here, but this rabbit was bigger than my fattest cat and was named Jeff. Jeff was super mellow, liked to be petted, and mainly slept splayed out on the floor the whole time.

HEDGIE!!!

Then we went to the awesome-sounding Rugby Megastore, which was neither terribly mega, nor terribly awesome; they really only had tournament-branded gear, and no good team merch. Bleh. At least we got to see the Webb-Ellis cup up close.

Dinner afterward was in Roppongi Hills (what a cool neighborhood) at Warayaki-Ya, where the big draw is that they cook the food over a hay-fired grill. Those flames get big, and that guy turned out the best grilled asparagus I've ever had, along with some wicked smoky bonito.

The next day, we met up for a food with our friend Kris and our guide Keilene near Shibuya Crossing: first stop the tiny Uoriki Kaisen (in the foodie-wonderland-basement of the Tokyu department store) for breakfast sushi and miso soup. (All of that sushi was insanely good, but the saltwater eel was unbelievable.)

Keilene showed us the "gift foods" section of the depachika, where all of the fruits are hand-raised to be flawless and of the highest quality. (These grapes are worth about CHF 320, or $300.) 

Next up were giant shrimp gyoza with some yuzu/pepper relish at Mag7...

...followed by a schlep out to Kichijoji, yet another ridiculously cool neighborhood (somehow felt very livable, artsy, modern, and historic all at the same time), where we tried fugu sashimi and fried skin. Both were relatively flavorless and very, very rubbery (so...not my favorite, and I do not get all the fuss). 

Eeeeek, look how neat Kichijoji is, though.

They even have terribly adorable manhole covers there.

Our first covered shopping street; I had no idea how common these are in Japanese cities. (In here we ducked into a weird little [literally] underground coffee house while we waited for Keilene to procure our giant, deep-fried, Waygu meatballs from Satou, a butcher shop with a constant line out the door.)

Then came a miso extravaganza at Soybean Farm (ugh, just go there and eat everything)...

...followed by a visit to this little rice cracker factory that a family has been running out of its apartment for something like 60 years. We sat in the kitchen and met the founder's daughter, who poured us some green tea as she showed us photos of the neighborhood when her mother, the owner, first opened the shop. (Her mother came in a bit later and was thrilled that we were there for the Rugby World Cup--this teeny little white-haired lady turned out to be quite the rugby fan and insisted on a photo with Mike and Kris! Neither lady spoke a word of English, but they were the most gracious hosts imaginable, and their crackers delicious.)

Our final stop before hurrying back into Roppongi was for chicken meatball skewers and highball cocktails at the Harmonica Kitchen and Bar, which is tucked into this cool little district of Kichijoji called Tetchan. (It used to be the black market area of town, and has been converted into this labyrinthine entertainment district full of tiny cafes and bars. Amazing.)

Generally, we have the good sense not to make a dinner reservation after a food tour, but we'd agreed to have dinner with a few of Mike's other rugby friends also visiting for the World Cup, so we ended up at Honmura An for a bunch of small plates (really good!) and soba, followed by a very late and very loud evening of karaoke in Roppongi. (A great, great day.)

Thanks to that, the next day started much later than we'd planned, so we headed straight to lunch at Narisawa, currently no. 22 on the 50-best list. Their "Satoyama cuisine" is quite different from the other highfalutin places we've been, and really interesting and lovely. ("Satoyama" is Japanese, roughly, for "places where the forest meets the sea," and the culture that exists there.)

They speed-rise and then bake your bread right at the table using a candle, a bowl of hot water, and then this super-hot lava rock contraption that's been in the oven for a couple of hours.

We had one bowl of soup with sea-snake broth (truly delicious), and afterwards they brought an actual smoked sea snake to the table for our perusal.

Narisawa's version of fried eggplant.

From the hallowed halls of haute cuisine we went straight to the biggest rugby match on our docket: New Zealand versus South Africa. In order to get tickets, we'd paid for some swanky seats that came with a small treasure chest, on top of which was a big bento box. (As though we were hungry after lunch at Narisawa.)

They brought out the big standing drums for the team entrances.

Got to see the world-famous haka live and in person...

...and TJ Perenara's face did not disappoint!

Manhole outside the Yokohama stadium.

The next day we met up with some local friends for an excellent soba lunch and coffee, and then they took us to my new favorite place on earth: Don Quijote (or "Donki," in the local parlance). It's kinda like the Japanese version of Super Walmart, except with far narrower aisles and with far more gadgetry going off at all times and really no decipherable organizational scheme. These places are generally 5 or 6 stories high, open basically 24-7, and conveniently located all over the place. And for some reason, they all have a big fish and/or eel tank out front...? Anyway, we'd duck into a Donki anytime we need something for our travels (or just to poke around--you never knew what you'd find in there!!), and spent way more time in those stores than any rational, self-respecting traveler should. Because massive consumerist overstimulating entertaining swoon.

The Donki in Nakameguro is the only one that sells fresh fruits and veg, and, in our experience, the only one with a working piano staircase.

Just imagine 6 floors of this.

I love the little penguin mascot, hee.

Eel tank!

After our first Donki experience, we headed back out to Yokohama for the second of our four games, Scotland (my team!!) vs. Ireland. The only good part of that game was the kick-off, which was when we still had hope. (Not a good game for my boys.)

Plus, a typhoon was rolling on in, so the weather was crap. (Thankfully our goodie boxes from the previous game also came with some decent ponchos, which we put to good use during the long slog back to the train station after this game.)

Afterwards, in search of dinner, we stumbled into this little slice of old Tokyo just outside the Tamachi train station. Dinner was underwhelming, but this neighborhood was magical.

We had planned to go to Nagano the next day, for a couple of nights, but we were having such a good time in Tokyo that we decided to stay. So instead we headed for Ginza to check out Hakuhinkan, this toy store that Mike had found the first time he was in Tokyo. And it. was. awesome.

Cat piano!

Kinda disturbing: a toy fish that ostensibly teaches sushi cuts. (There were also a pig and a cow, demonstrating butchers' cuts. What the...??)

Samurai helmets made from baseball hats. Heh.

Soooo many video games...but this one was hilariously small in Mike's giant frying-pan hands.

The Ginza district itself (high-end shopping) is some of the most expensive real estate in Japan, and the central street is pedestrianized on weekends. It's a pretty spectacular place to stroll down the absolute middle.

Next, we caught a late lunch at this tiny sushi counter in the Tsukiji Market...

...where we also sampled these octopus skewers...

...and ate some fantastic grilled eel that this lady kindly blowtorched for us.

Then it was over to Asakusa, where we found some excellent new kitchen knives; took a meander through this very cool artisan marketplace they have there (fresh and prepared foods on the ground floor, all manner of crafts and things up above); and couldn't help but notice the subtle Skytree tower.

Next we headed back to Shibuya, where we braved the famous crossing (one of the busiest pedestrian intersections in the world, reputedly) for a second time. Waiting for the light to change...

...and crossing. It's madness.

But I guess you could just say that about Shibuya in general.

We went to meet up with another rugby buddy to watch the Wales-Georgia game, and Mike ended up making all sorts of new friends. (Everyone wanted to compare muscle sizes.)

Tiny sake barrels on a 1:00 AM Donki run.

The next morning, we tried to go to the Tokyo National Museum, but it was inexplicably closed (thanks for nothing, Internets!), so instead we poked around at some nearby shrines.

And saw this amazing manhole cover.

Five-story pagoda at Ueno Toshogu shrine, I think originally built in 1631.

A chōzuya or temizuya--the ceremonial purification fountain found at all Shinto shrines. (For some unknown reason, Mike knew the washing ritual, so we went ahead and did it to be respectful. I really liked the ceremony and the idea of it.)

Exterior of the Karamon, or Chinese-style gate, at the Ueno Toshogu shrine, built 1627 and restored 1651. This complex is, so I read, an excellent example of Edo-period architecture.

The shrine itself, with its walls entirely covered in gold foil and with extraordinary details under the eaves...

...thusly. 

The Sukibei Wall, which runs all the way around the shrine, was also built in 1651. The upper band is carved with depictions of land animals, and the lower with water creatures, all unique. It's astounding in its detail. 

Copper lanterns used in religious ceremonies, donated by feudal lords from all over the country.

Glimpse of a single peony (with its own umbrella, hah!) over the wall of their garden, which is apparently only open in January and February. (Rats. That's one of my favorite flowers.)

Accidentally stumbled upon the nearby Shinobazunoike Bentendo Temple**, where their own fountain is a dragon.

Also of note: the immense Shinobazuno lotus pond surrounding that temple. 

Next, we checked out the huge Sensoji temple complex in Asakusa, where they've got their own 5-story pagoda... 

...and these massive lamps that are gorgeously carved underneath.

Wandering back through Asakusa, which also has something of an "old Tokyo" feel...

...and plenty of one of the other things I loooooved in Japan: fake food displays in restaurant windows. I could not get enough of these! (Also...they seem to really like Italian-style pasta.)

Dinner on our final night in Tokyo was at the marvelous Fukuzushi, where we opted for the omakase sushi menu--that is, chef's choice. That was 13 pieces of the best sushi of my life, the standouts being the chu toro tuna; Spanish mackerel with ginger and scallions (my favorite, I think); a piece involving salmon roe dished into a roll of nori; and, at the end, a massive hand roll filled with minced tuna. I panicked when we were offered, as our final piece, a repeat of our favorite from the whole menu: really, I shoulda gotten the mackerel again, but went with that first tuna instead. Delicious, obviously, but not what my mouth really wanted. (I'm not generally a fan of mackerel, but dang. They knew what to do with it at Fukuzushi.)

And with that, our first wave of Tokyo was finished. The next morning, we hopped on the Shinkansen and headed west, to Kyoto.

*Back in Denver, we had a chinchilla named Ralph, and I loved him very much and I miss him and his fuzziness. I'd have one again, if I had the room in our apartment for the massive cage those things require. And/or cats that could get along with a free-range chinchilla, if that's even a thing.

**A thing we learned later on in this trip, which probably a lot of people know, but we didn't: in Japan, at least, shrines are strictly Shinto and temples are Buddhist...although both religions can share certain symbology, festivals, even physical plots of land, because, interestingly enough, Buddhism and Shinto were not technically recognized (at least in Japan) as separate religions until the 19th century! There's a good article about all of it here.