Wednesday, November 30, 2011

Erosion

There are a number of reasons why I keep returning to Thong Nai Pan Noi beach. Its natural beauty and friendly quiet atmosphere are legendary, especially to anyone that's had to listen to me reminisce about it.

But that sort of legend has a way of inviting development. New hotels, businesses, and crowds that often stamp out the very beauty and atmosphere that brought them.

I always suspected that would happen here too. So I feel the need to return as often as possible before it's all gone. Each time I go back, I don't know quite what to expect.

Traveling there from Ko Lipe, however, was more challenging than I suspected. It turns out it's virtually impossible to get from Lipe to Ko Phangan in a single day, even if you're willing to spring for a plane ticket. This is mainly due to the ferry schedules to and from both islands.

I resigned to the fact that I was going to have to stay overnight somewhere along the way. I chose to stay over in Surat Thani rather than Krabi because it is closer to the ferries in the Gulf, and I figured I could get an earlier ferry that way.

A nasty rain storm greeted me and I took cover in the only backpacker hotel nearby. When I looked at the dirty, overpriced rooms, the bell boy made sure to let me know he could call a hooker over for me, and ensured I understood by miming the whole transaction. Classy.

Just as I was about to begrudgingly hand over $14 to the desk clerk, four other backpackers approached me and asked me if I wanted to share a five bed room with them. They seemed nice and were in the same boat as me. A frenchman, an Italian, a Russian, and an Aussie-American. They had all been on the same bus and had all just met each other.

I shrugged and said, "Why not." The seedy hotel got exactly zero dollars from me. And I made four new friends.

Big win.

It's funny how sharing a hotel room with a total stranger feels so natural when there are no other english speakers in sight. Back at home it would seem preposterous.

We only had to tolerate the crummy room for a few hours while we slept, and then made our way to the ferry first thing. The others were looking for a nice quiet beach to relax, so I talked three of them into checking out Thong Nai Pan with me, though with a warning that I didn't know exactly what we'd find.

After the two hour ferry ride and the bumpy forty minute jungle taxi, we were finally there.

The first thing I noticed was that the first two bungalow resorts on that end of the beach had been completely demolished, and there was new construction under way.

I had heard before I left for my trip that my favorite bungalows at the opposite end might not be operating either. And sure enough, they were closed down for repairs. But the same family operates the Thong Tapan resort next door, and had some beautiful, comfortable bungalows up the hill for 500 baht. So we moved in.

I noticed the I-Sea bar on the beach wasn't open. It seemed vacant with no bottles on the shelves or music playing. It's a favorite spot of mine, so I asked Boo, our guest hostess, "Does Stefano and his wife still operate the bar?" She said no, not anymore.

Sigh.

Little by little, I noticed things were missing from the little beach community. The Bamboo Hut, a great family restaurant, was shut down, though only temporarily. But other little spots that had held fond memories for me had been torn down entirely.

Asking around, I learned that the luxury Rasananda resort, which opened a couple of years ago, has actually always owned the majority of the beach front here and was renting the land to the backpacker bungalows that have dominated the beach until now. They have decided to take back the land and expand their $250 - $1000+ per night hotel.

As you might imagine, the type of clientele that spend one hundred times more to stay at the same beach might tend to change the atmosphere of the tiny village. These are folks who tend to stay in their resorts, use its spa, and eat and drink at its top notch restaurants. They don't go out for $2 noodle plates or patronize the little pancake dessert cart on the road, nor do they play pool at the expat bar on the beach.

So as a result, those businesses have largely closed, or moved elsewhere.

In the past, I had always been worried that the beach would be ruined by ugly development and annoying tourist merchant shops. But I had it wrong. The beach is as quiet and beautiful as ever. But the people changed. And that turned out to be just as distressing for me.

Beauty alone doesn't make a place feel like home.

I also learned something else about Ko Phangan. I had always thought Thailand had a single "high" tourist season from November to February. But that's not the case. There are three distinct climate regions in Thailand. And even though the Andaman coast is indeed in its high season, the Gulf region has an entirely different climate. And I had unknowingly chosen the rainiest month of the year, November, to come to Phangan.

Luckily, the days I spent here were mainly sunny and beautiful. I had planned to stay up to two weeks, but I knew I'd be pushing my luck with the weather if I stayed much longer and I felt a sense of sadness that so much of what I always liked about this place was gone.

I knew it wouldn't last forever. And I was right. It's still a lovely place to visit, and I expect I'll be back. But I'll come in January or February. And I'll bring some friends to hang out with.

My new friends decided to move on to a more lively part of the island. I considered following them, but decided it was time to see something new.

It's time to head to Burma.

Saturday, November 26, 2011

Lipe

I have only a modest knowledge of geography.

When I imagine traveling to a country I have never visited, I tend to envision one particular city I know of, or some scene from a movie. I think that's pretty common.

Then I might pick up a guide book, or surf the web looking for more stories, descriptions, or pictures.

But then when I actually arrive, it hits me - how much more to this place there is that I will never see or never even hear about. All I can do is keep my eyes and ears open for new places to check out.

One day I was sitting at a hot springs back home, and I was chatting about Thailand with a guy I met. He was raving about this island Ko Lipe on the west coast near the Malaysian border. He said it was a beautiful, quiet place, and a great escape from the more crowded tourist beaches.

He seemed like the sort of fellow I'd like to meet out on a beach somewhere. We probably have similar sensibilities in such places. So I made a mental note to check it out if I was in the area.

That's really all it takes for me to choose a destination sometimes. A good tip.

So sitting in Railay, plotting my next move, I figured I wasn't likely to be any closer to Lipe any time soon, so now is the time.

I took a bus to Pak Bara, the nearest pier town, and headed over.

Ko Lipe is a small island in the midst of the Tarutao National Park. The only reason that construction is permitted on this island is that it has been the home of some sea gypsies since before it was even part of Thailand. Those gypsies retained their rights to build here, and in the grand tradition of other indigenous people exploiting their land rights (e.g. Native American casinos), Ko Lipe tourism was born.

As the ferry pulled in toward the island, it hit me that this place is just slightly bigger than I expected. I'll need to make a decision about which beach to stay at while I'm here. So I took a quick poll around the boat to see what people knew about the different spots.

I learned that the sunrise side of the island has cheaper bungalows and is quieter than the Pattaya Beach side where we landed. That sounded good to me, but required a sweaty 300 meter walk to the other side, where I promptly dropped my pack next to a very relaxed looking woman in a hammock and walked the long pretty beach to find my next home.

I found a place with some nice bamboo bungalows and asked for one right on the beach facing the water. It had a little bed out front with some pillows for enjoying the spectacular view of the white sand and turquoise water decorated with a few colorful long tail boats waiting for maintenance by the sea gypsies next door.

When I first heard of these gypsies, I imagined slim folks with long scraggly black hair and bandanas and jingly clothes that made them sound like Santa's sleigh while they danced around their camp fires at night singing pirate songs.

But actually, they pretty much just look and act like other Thais. Oh well.

At 900 baht, the bungalow was pricey for bamboo, but I decided to splurge since the spot was so beautiful. There were other cheaper huts around if I decided to stay longer.

I threw on my swim suit and jumped in the warm blue water for a much needed swim after the long journey.

I looked forward to laying on my little veranda afterward, but just as I got out, some clouds moved overhead and the wind started to blow.

For the next two days the wind kept blowing against my little hut, and woke me up early each day from the noise.

Suddenly, this expensive little hut didn't seem so awesome anymore. Especially when I noticed that if I walked inland just 50 meters or so, the wind completely stopped. It's only the sunrise beach that's windy.

Hmph.

So I looked around the island for a new home and found Sunset beach. It required a bit of a hike down a jungle road, but there was no wind, and the beach, although smaller, was very pretty as well.

The bungalows there aren't anything to write home about with their pink linoleum floors, and dingy easter egg interior, but it was quite functional and much cheaper at 500 baht to have my hammock hang just over the shore.

There were only a couple of places to eat here and one bar, so anyone with an interest in socializing would likely want to walk the twenty minutes into the village to do so. Just remember your flashlight.

I established myself as a regular at Mom's Tattoo Bar on the main walking street. I noticed it as soon as I arrived to the island because it plays a revolving list of easy listening covers to popular songs. Mom, who's actually a man, is a well known tattoo artist who also runs the bar and keeps the atmosphere lively.

I enjoyed my time on Lipe. It's a good atmosphere with some very pretty beaches. I also hear the diving is amazing around here.

But I knew this wouldn't be my new island paradise. My mind was on one place. One beach I always return to when I'm here. I figured I'd spend a couple of weeks there at least. So I had better head over if for no other reason than I could stop daydreaming about it.

I say my goodbyes to the Tattoo Bar staff and regulars.

Tomorrow, Phangan.

Sunday, November 20, 2011

Asok

Normally, when it's time for me to head to Bangkok for some reason, I stay in the Khaosan Road tourist ghetto. Although it does contain a number of products and services tourists need, like visa assistance, travel gear, and information - it is also dirty, the rooms are expensive, and worst of all, you can't walk five feet without someone trying to sell you something.

So even though I suspect there are cool things to do in Bangkok somewhere, I don't really know where to find them and so I usually minimize my time there.

But on this trip I got an invitation from my friend Leah to stay at her apartment in the Asok neighborhood. I'm not sure that's really the name of the area. Asok is the nearest Sky Train stop, which Leah shares with another popular tourist destination called Soi Cowboy, one of the city's red light districts. It's actually a single alley that is right on her block. We cut through the alley once so I could check it out. It helped that she was with me, otherwise, as a single guy, I would have had a hard time making it out of there without a lot of harassment.


Her apartment is lovely and made a huge difference to the quality of my time spent there. Being walking distance from good public transportation (unlike Khaosan) made it much easier for me to run errands around town like getting to the Myanmar (Burma) embassy for the visa I'd need later in my trip.

While exploring her neighborhood, I wandered into a brand new shopping mall called Terminal 21. It's themed kind of like an airport. They have signs that appear to be pointing you to different world destinations. At first I actually thought it was some kind of train station.

It's about eight stories high, and when I got to the fourth floor, I had one of the most surreal experiences I have had during this trip.

As I came up the escalator, there is a giant scale replica of the Golden Gate Bridge. It actually spans between the fourth and fifth floors.

Both floors are themed to look like San Francisco, my home city.

Everywhere I looked, there were details that reminded me of home. Some of them are obvious, like a giant full-sized replica of a cable car on tracks made into a coffee shop you can sit inside. And some are less obvious, like the signs of real stores, street signs, and public artwork, most of which no one who didn't live there would really associate with the city.

Everywhere I walked, I'd snap a picture of something that made me laugh. I know I looked funny to the other shoppers in the mall. Why did I care so much about the decorations?

The food court of the mall was called "Pier 21", and completely themed after Pier 39, the major tourist ghetto of San Francisco. It even had a Bubba Gump Shrimp sign above a Chinese restaurant.

That's what kind of spun my head. A fake sign for a real restaurant in a fake tourist part of a real city.

Mind. Blown.

One night, a few of Leah's friends and I were out at her favorite sushi restaurant, In the Mood for Love. After a number of drinks, Leah made the proclamation, "We should go to Railay tomorrow for the weekend!"

I don't think this is a rare proclamation for her. She has made no secret that Railay is her favorite place on Earth. She is an avid rock climber, and besides having a gorgeous beach, it is a climber's paradise. I have no solid itinerary for this month, so of course I say "I'm in! I have the perfect frisbee!"

So the Thailand beach combing portion of my trip began the next day. Only this time, rather than the grueling overnight bus from Bangkok, we just hopped a plane - she with a round trip ticket - me with a one way. Normally after dark, you'd have to stay overnight in Krabi and take a boat over to Railay beach in the morning. But Leah has a number of friends there, so we got the VIP treatment at the airport. A van ride to the dock and a boat waiting to motor us over in the dark. I can see why this is a favorite weekend activity for her. I'd do it too if I lived in Bangkok.

After a solid weekend of frisbee and paddle ball, Leah returned home, and I mulled my next move.

I could fly back to Bangkok and start my Burma trip.

But as long as I'm already in South Thailand beach mode...

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

Kyoto

On the early side of Sunday morning rush hour, I made my way to Tokyo Station where I planned to jump on the Shinkansen (bullet train) to Kyoto. Luckily, Sunday morning rush hour is somewhat lighter than weekdays, but still an impressive showing of suits, briefcases, and school uniforms.

Once in the station I started to make the mistake of following any sign that pointed to "Shinkansen". That's a little bit like going to an airport and following any sign that says "airplane". There are actually more than one company and multiple parts of the station from which the trains might leave.

Although the train ticket price rivaled that of an airplane fare, I have to say the experience is much smoother. Just like all trains, you just show up at the right time and walk on, throw your bag over your seat, and away you go.

The interior of the train is more comfortable and spacious than the coach cabin of an airplane. The seats are more like business class seats. I was anxious to see what the ride was like. Would it feel like a rocket? Would the passing scenery just look like a big blur like I was in warp drive on the Starship Enterprise?

Well, not exactly. I'd say it feels more like being on an airline jet zooming down the runway right at the moment before you lift off. Except you never lift off. You just stay at one constant speed except for the occasional stop every half hour or so.

In a little over two hours, I arrived at Kyoto Station.

As soon as I walked off the train and into the station I instantly felt a whole different energy than Tokyo. People walked slower, dressed more casually. I just felt more of a peace about them. And mind you, this is still in a crowded train station.

Outside, I got my bearings and walked the several blocks to K's House Kyoto guesthouse. As backpacker hostels go, this one kinda wins. Very modern, spacious, and clean with lots of handy things like bikes for rent, cheap laundry machines, and free wifi. But the staff is the best part. Their English is just ok, but the service is top notch and super friendly. They even gave me a double room for the price of a single person in a dorm. Maybe it was my winning smile. Or maybe it was the grey whiskers which gave me some extra juice. Half the price of Tokyo.

My room wasn't ready yet though, so I rented a bike for a couple hours to explore the nearby neighborhood. Bikes are widely used here. It's a super flat city, which certainly helps. But a couple things took some getting used to.

For one thing, bikes aren't welcome in the street for the most part. I immediately got honked at when I ventured into traffic. I had noticed before how annoying it was that so many people rode their bikes on the sidewalk, even in Tokyo. But now I realized that's where you're supposed to ride. The bike lanes in the crosswalks should have been my first clue.

The other crazy thing about biking Kyoto is that parked bikes are not appreciated anywhere. The guesthouse clerk made me read a statement and nod my head in understanding that the police may remove bikes that are illegally parked on the street, especially near busy buildings, but really anywhere.

When I asked where I could park, he smiled and said "Nowhere."

Biking around for a couple hours, I got a feel for what a Kyoto neighborhood looks like. A few large avenues a mile or so apart, with each square mile containing it's own neighborhood with lots of tiny streets that wind around and dead end in a way that makes it fun to explore and get lost in. The little streets are lined with densely packed brownish wooden townhouses sprinkled with little shops and restaurants. Very charming. Lots of kids walking and riding bikes. It seems like a very pleasant place to live.

I still had to buy a return ticket to Tokyo, so I returned to Kyoto Station, which as it turns out is a stunning piece of architecture. It's fifteen stories of transportation, shopping, hotels, and entertainment. I'm not normally a big fan of malls, but I a saw a set of escalators rising and rising out of sight, so I took a ride. I kept going up and up and up, amazed at how enormous the indoor space was, until I looked around and realized I was now outside on the roof in a little garden with fake cricket noise and a rad view of the city.

Outside, I stumbled on a kind of school dance competition going on. It looked like high school kids probably from different local schools, each with a high energy choreographed dance in traditional Japanese outfits and painted faces. The music seemed to be a hybrid of traditional and modern. The kids were having a blast.

And that wasn't the only community festival going on around the station that evening. I could tell this is a town that fosters art and culture. Being the historic center of so many components of Japanese culture (e.g. Shintoism and Zen Buddhism), I bet there's a festival of some kind just about every week. I saw posters advertising cultural events all over town.

Over the next couple of days, I set out to see some sights and eat at some everyday restaurants.

  • Shoren-in Temple - It's kind of hard for me to understand all of the history, what with so many sects of Buddhism and generations of priests and emperors. Something about Jodo, Tendai, and Shin sects. But I gathered that this was a temple for the emperor, one of who's sons studied traditional arts here and became a high priest. What really impressed me though is the architecture of the interior spaces and how they were incorporated with the beautiful surrounding garden. Inside were simple mats and decoratively painted sliding panels for storage and privacy. The walls all opened up into the garden so that it felt like the same space. Very peaceful and lovely.
  • Heian Shrine -I randomly rode my bike past this place and it was really big and orange, so I checked it out. I didn't really know what went on here normally. But on this day, the place was bustling with families. Each family had one or two little kids around four years old each dressed in traditional garb. The boys looked like little shogun warriors and the girls where in colorful kimonos. Apparently this is a popular place to take family photos when your kids are a certain age. It was super cute, but I was a little bit self conscious about snapping too many pictures of their kids, so I just stole one or two.
  • Kyoto Imperial Palace - For the one thousand or so years before 1869, this was the residence of Japan's emperors. After that, they headed for Tokyo. But this place is still fairly well preserved, especially the lush gardens. You have to register with your passport to take one of the relatively few daily tours. By this time, I was getting a little tired of just gawking at buildings, but my favorite part of this tour was standing at what was, for those thousand years, the back porch of the emperor - where he would sit in his quarters and look out over his exquisitely manicured landscape. I guess it's kind of like sitting in the president's oval office chair. Neat.
  • Fast food - The guesthouse gave me some tips of where to eat like a local. One was a fast food joint that sold rice bowls. It was a good place for me because they had pictures of all the food I might order. I just had to point. So I pointed. Then he asked me a question. Uh oh. I pointed again and smiled. At some point he said "beeh?". Oh I have a choice of meat. "Yes beef."
  • Ramen - Another tip was a local ramen house. I brought some other folks from the guesthouse there with me. When we got there, we weren't sure we were in the right place. It was a tiny little space with bad fluorescent lighting. But there were some people waiting outside for a table. Good sign. The colorful proprietor came out and grunted some stuff at us and gave us an English (like) menu. Basically our choice was big noodles, regular noodles, or small noodles. We chose the noodles. They were delicious.
  • Gion - This is the historical center of geisha culture (they say geiko here). I took a tour around the neighborhood where schools, dormitories, tea houses and theatres teach young trainees called meiko and showcase their talents. But it's not as if they are walking around everywhere greeting tourists. Sightings of them are actually kind of rare. The tourguide from my guesthouse, Miku, tried to give us the best chance of a sighting outside an exclusive tea house. People were waiting outside like paparazzi. But nothing. Then on our way back, Miku and I spotted a real life meiko in the subway of all places. Miku was certain she was legit, and seemed kind of star struck. The young girl did indeed look like a painting. Hardly real. Her expression was fixed into a mysterious expression I can only describe as fascinating.

All in all, I really enjoyed the vibe of Kyoto. It's a little upscale, but in a crunchy, cultural way. I could see myself living here.

But only after I learn Japanese.

Saturday, November 12, 2011

Tokyo

I had four days off work before heading off on my next Asia trip. Somehow I managed to fill up all four with packing and shopping for various travel needs like a proper frisbee for Thong Nai Pan, or fresh new US currency suitable for trading in Burma.

Also, for the past few weeks I've been checking the news daily to see whether downtown Bangkok was expected to be flooded when I arrive there in a week. I was excited to meet up with some friends there after Tokyo and get my travel visa to Burma, but I had no intention of wading around in dirty chest deep water to do so. And the chances of that hovered around 50/50 for weeks.

But now it was time to board the plane for Tokyo, and a great time to finally crack open the
Japan guide book a friend lent me.

Although the flight is a mere eleven hours, you still lose about two days on the calendar to get there. My flight out of SFO left around 10 am Wednesady, and I landed in Tokyo 4 pm
Thursday. At least I'll get a day back on the way home.

By the time I cleared customs and took the hour train ride from Narita to downtown
Tokyo, It was around 7 pm, right at the tail end of rush hour. I've heard about how they physically cram people into crowded trains during peak periods, so I was crossing my fingers I'd miss that.

The first thing I noticed was that I was the only man on my train car that wasn't wearing a suit and tie and holding a briefcase. I rarely see men in suits in San Francisco where I work so this was definitely a curiosity to me.

The two trains I took weren't too packed, but when I arrived at Ikebukuro Station, I saw what urban hustle and bustle is all about. Even after 7 pm, the station was gushing people from one corridor to another.

The next thing I realized was how out of place I was. Besides not being in a suit, I was the only caucasian in sight in a homogeneous sea of Japanese. At home I'm used to seeing a melting pot of faces and races, but this place didn't seem at all diverse.

Tokyo is an international city, but it's not really a big tourist destination. At least not for foreign tourists. So I realized quickly, this place was not going to accommodate me as an English speaker the way so many other destinations seem to.

As out of place as I felt, no one seemed to notice me. I'm not sure whether it's because they are too polite to stare or that they are so intensely focused on their own destinies. But I felt fairly invisible.

I barely remembered to write down detailed directions to Hotel Sakura before I left home. I even felt a little silly when I snapped a picture of the website's map on my iPhone. But thank god I did. After following my written directions and walking through town at night with my heavy bags for twenty minutes or so, I realized I had no idea where the hotel was. But the iPhone map got me oriented and I found it. That's one point scored in favor of travel paranoia.

I was pleased to see that my ultra budget room ($80/night) even had a private bathroom, although it was comically small. Kind of like something you'd see in an RV. But I like RVs. So I was happy.

I was tempted to crash out. But no way. I'm in Tokyo, man. Time to check it out. I had a few hours before the subways all shutdown around midnight, so I ventured.

I rode the JR train to Shinjuku where I heard there was some nightlife. My first mission was to find some tasty sushi.

I followed the crowd out of the station to the first major intersection where everyone split off in different directions. I chose to walk straight across the major street into a wide, brightly lit, promenade. There were some young men in light grey suits standing around with bleached blonde heavy metal haircuts. One of them approached me and asked me in very broken English if I was looking for a good time. He said I had wandered in to the red light district.

Well that was quick. I had no idea. It didn't look all that seedy. There were no girls in sight. Just a lot of drunken business men and regular looking restaurant facades.

He pointed me down the street to find some food. But before I got too far, a very friendly African man seemed very happy to see me, and w
ouldn't leave my side unless I let him lead me to a nice hostess bar. His car salesman style turned me off, however, and only resolved me to resist doing anything he suggested. He followed me for several blocks before I convinced him he was wasting his time.

As it turns out, Nigerian men have begun to infest Tokyo streets touting for such places. I would have thought Japan would have demanded more discretion. I guess they are fine with sleeze as long as it's outsourced.

I actually have no objection to hostess bars, and might have gone to one with friends if it weren't for the seedy touting.

I found some sushi which I happily slurped down, and wandered around a bit more. I found some cool little hole in the wall bars and restaurants. I was actually surprised how few sushi places there are here. It apparently isn't any more prevalent here than it is back home. There are lots of other types of food Japanese eat that we just don't see much of in the West.

Unfortunately, I don't have any idea what most of it was. Walking by restaurants, I'd see many pictures showing bowls of randomness with Japanese scrawl next to them. No clue. Good thing I know how to order sushi.

I spent the next day or so exploring neighborhoods and seeing some sights.
  • Mori Art Museum - At the tippy top of the Roppongi Hills Mori tower is one of Tokyo's newest and best art museums. It was raining pretty bad one of my days there, and a museum was a perfect escape. The exhibit was on Metabolism, an architecture movement that started in Japan in the early 60's that focuses on large scale, extensible structures.
  • Imperial Palace East Garden - To me, the remarkable thing about the Imperial Palace is mainly its longevity. It has been there in the center of Tokyo (formerly known as Eno) since something like 1100 and is now surrounded by highrises. Mainly the palace area is a giant ancient fortress. There are still structures, huge walls and large moats that used to keep the royals safe from the angry masses. As an ornate garden though, it doesn't hold a candle to Golden Gate Park.
  • Akihabara - Also called Electric Town, this is gadget central. I didn't see much here that blew me away except that I was fairly creeped out by the baby doll touts, girls dressed in french maid outfits, and shouting something like baby talk, promoting nearby businesses.
  • Harajuku - Known for its young, ultra stylish crowd, I wanted to see what this place was about. From what I could tell, it's mainly about shopping. There are tons of big brand and boutique stores here lining the boulevards, kind of like a more stylish union square. Honestly, my impression of Tokyo is that it's mainly about shopping and making money. They seem every so style conscious. Go, go, go. Earn, earn, earn. Shop, shop, shop. Faster, faster, faster. I'm certain that I missed on huge chunks of what the city has to offer, but for the most part, Tokyo seems pretty darned superficial to me.
On my last evening before heading off to Kyoto, I met up with my friend Kristen, a blogger and a kind of professional traveler. On this trip, she and her newlywed husband Scott were working on a semester at sea program which had stopped in Japan that week.

Kristen's friends Tracey and Andy both live and work in Tokyo, and happily took us out to a couple of cool restaurants in Roppongi. One was kind of a fancy chicken grill, and the other was a stylish hole in the wall Ramen house. Both very good, and both would have been near impossible for me to navigate myself. This is clearly the way to see Japan. With a knowledgeable guide.

We made it a pretty early night.

I wanted to see some of the legendary Tokyo late night scene, but I was plagued my first few days in Asia with some wicked jet lag. So the perfunctory all nighter was not to be.

Tomorrow, Kyoto.