It was the middle of November. We boarded a quiet yet crowded JAL flight to Tokyo. Too excited to sleep, we watched movie after movie in cramped coach quarters while making friends with the tailored Japanese flight attendants who worked tirelessly in perpetual smile-mode. Upon arrival, we zipped to our hotel in Ginza, dropped our stuff, and then jumped headfirst into the sea of Shibuya a few train stops away. Despite not sleeping, despite a relentless haggle for a new room that wasn't musty or dark, and despite scarfing dry backpack snacks because the hotel restaurant was closed in the middle of the afternoon, we set out excitedly not wanting to miss a single second of the glittery gray wonderland that is Tokyo.
We were soon lost, sag-eyed and incredulous, in the swarm of Shibuya crossing. Then we were fingering through selections of design books at Tower Records whispering to each other, "Why wasn't our Tower Records ever as cool as this?!" Food was found (Belgian pomme frites and beer - sure!), people watching commenced, and before too long we dreamily nodded and dozed all the way back to Ginza begging our bodies to keep us awake just a few minutes longer. We didn't want to miss a thing.
Photos by Touristique.
