Tokyo Sea Life Park . Kamakura . Yokohama (Baseball, Red Light District) . Akasaka (street walkers) . Ants gets sick . Roppongi (Starbucks, Gaspanic)

I've been lazy with writing this travelogue, so things are becoming fuzzy in my memory already. Anyway, we wake up relatively early again. With the aid of my trusty Frommer's Tokyo guidebook, I managed to plan out a tough schedule today, but one that would be quite rewarding if we could pull it off. The agenda for today's activities include the Tokyo Sea Life Park, a trip to Kamakura to visit the temples and great buddha, then to Yokohama for a baseball game... followed by possible nightlife if we're not too exhausted. I wanted to include the Sea Life Park in our trip because I had very fond memories of a visit to Nagoya's aquarium in 1995. One memory in particular which stuck in my mind was of an enormously fat tuna fish, larger than several people combined, floating sedatedly in an enormous tank that our escalator travelled through. It left me with an impression that Japan's aquariums were something else. Underwater life is so different from terra firma's that it seems alien in comparison. You sort of have a vague idea of what goes through your dog's mind, but what kind of thoughts does an octopus or squid have? It's always cool to have mind-bending experiences (without the aid of CNS-active agents, of course).

I'm sure we started out our day at the local convenience stores again, buying pastries and snacks for the morning ride. [Lawson] and 7-11 have become familiar friends by now. However we never saw the cute cashier at the [Lawson] on Friday night ever again.

We take the subway to Tokyo Station, and from there, a train to the Sea Life Park. As we get closer to our destination, the train becomes packed with mothers and small children. It's no mystery where they're going. Eventually we reach the stop, and the throng of Sea Life Park goers rushes out the door. This makes it very easy for us to figure out where to go; we just follow the crowd. Ahead of us are several structures that appear appropriate for a recreational park. The mothers and children have branched into an orderly line to our right, awaiting some sort of tram. We keep walking towards the structures; the landscaping is clean but a bit sterile here. We reach a ticket window, buy our tickets, and follow the path towards this giant dome which encases the entranceway to the tank exhibits, similar to what I'd imagine the Epcott center to be like (although I've never been there before). Inside the dome, an escalator conveys excited children downstairs to the aquarium proper.

Down below, there are all sorts of mini-tanks along the walls, each containing rare fish / mollusks / sharks / etc. Some of them have the most exotic colors. Around the corner is a large blue tank full of fast-swimming sharks and fish. They can really jet around the water; how do they do that? Many of the kids are pressing their noses against the glass and chattering loudly. Quoc and Ants relate some stories about fish collections other people had back in L.A., and get excited over seeing several fish species that they had tended to before. We walk around, finding penguin exhibits, arctic life exhibits, crustaceans, and a tank full of large tuna. However, although they are impressive, and they dart around the tank faster than anything I've seen in the water, they're nowhere near as big as the tuna I remember seeing in 1995. I'm a little disappointed. Eventually we're done and we walk around the gift shop, and back up the escalator and out the front door. All these groups of children are waiting outside, ordered according to school or class. They're wearing the same general outfit. It brings back a memory of being in Taipei in 1998 and seeing a group of kids led by a teacher; they were all wearing these yellow fishing hats.

Not wasting any time, we take the train back to Tokyo Station. From there we take the Yamanote line to Shinagawa station, located at 6:00 on the loop. From here, we catch a train on the JR Yokosuka line towards Kamakura. Quoc and Ants are both tired from overexertion on the trip. Ants professes that he has a sore throat, which turns out to be the start of a horrible coughing illness that sweeps through our group like the plague. I brush it off. I'm pretty used to a physically demanding schedule so I feel fine... funny because Quoc works out, Ants jogs routinely, and I do nothing. I guess taking overnight hospital call is enough. We speed southwest. The people on the train gradually become less citified in their dress and more nondescript. We zoom through the Japanese countryside towards Kamakura. The buildings thin out and are replaced by smaller towns. At one point, I'm looking towards the west and to my surprise I see an enormous white statue in the hills, of a woman with her arm raised in a Buddhist pose. I point it out to Quoc, whose eyebrows raise in surprise as if to say "Whoa, neat-o!". Soon we reach Yokohama, a beautiful and clean modern city. I see Japan's tallest building, the [Landmark Tower]. I think, I've been inside that building before. After Yokohama, the countryside becomes more rural than before. There are more trees and greenery covering the distant hills. It looks quite peaceful. Sometime within the hour-long trip, Ants and Quoc fall asleep.

We deboard at Kamakura station. The station opens into a smallish square surrounded by a rather ordinary, but slightly quaint-looking, town. Away from the hustle-bustle of Tokyo, it feels quite relaxing. After a quick bathroom break, we orient ourselves. A bike rental place is nearby, but we decide not to rent after a difficult time speaking to the old man who rents the bikes out. Before heading to the temples, we stop off at a grocery store immediately adjacent to the station which has a wide area full of prepared foods. I buy some chicken pieces, a rice ball, and a fruit drink. The three of us sit down on a bench outside the market and munch on our food. It is early afternoon and the day is sunny, quiet, and peaceful. People are walking or biking by. Life seems very simple in a small town, and my heart feels an uncomfortable pang of longing at the thought of how much I would enjoy leading a simple life raising a family in a small asian town. During our meal, Quoc muses about finding a job in Japan. It's the first indication he's given as to how much he likes it here. He goes on to discuss how the language barrier presents a significant obstacle.

After our meal, we head off to the temples. I've managed to find a map of the local area, and combined with my guidebook we walk towards the Hase Kannon Temple. School has just let out and there are many girls in sailor suit uniforms. Someone tries to park his bike in a rack alongside us and accidentally knocks the adjacent bicycle down; Ants courteously helps them right the bicycle. We walk a few more blocks and I think we've reached a street we're supposed to turn on, but I'm not 100% sure. I ask a young man walking by if this was the street (Yuigihama doori) I was looking for. Unfortunately the guy is a tourist here, and he doesn't know the names of the streets. As it turns out, he's lost himself! He asks me for the whereabouts of the station, which I point out for him. He thanks me and continues on his way. How ironic. We confirm somehow that this is Yuigihama doori, and walk west along the street towards the temple. It's a long walk, about 20 minutes. We pass various shops selling lacquerware, cloth, and folk art, as well as people's small houses. It feels like a nice walk through a real neighborhood. Along the way I become unsure of our route and make an inquiry at a small art shop. The lady within comes out onto the block to talk to us and gesture the appropriate direction. While her face is attractive, her teeth are yellow and rather in poor shape. Ants and Quoc notice this and make a comment about it later.

Soon we reach the entranceway to the temple. It is marked with a large torii gate. Stairs lead up to the temple proper. We pay a small admission fee and enter the garden area. Tourists are milling about; mainly Japanese tourists. We head up the stone steps towards the temple. Along the way we discover a small mezzanine filled with tiny buddha sculptures. There is a small shrine area to pray and burn incense. Quoc takes a picture here. Continuing up, we reach the temple. It has a beautifully expansive view, overlooking the city of Kamakura and the Pacific ocean. We take more pictures of the scenery. I take a picture of an enormous bell housed in a wooden structure, with a large wooden pole suspended before it as a sort of a ringer. I stifle a sudden compelling urge to pull the log back to sound the bell. Inside the main temple is a tall statue of some buddhist priest or god. Another structure houses a curious large wooden gizmo with levers sticking out all around it. The entire thing can spin along its center axis, which is at the center of the house. The device comes to a small point at the base, but grows larger as it goes up, like a suspended hive. People stand before the levers and push the wooden gears around and around. Amused, I take it for a spin. It has the feel of a grinding mill being powered by human slaves. Another set of stairs outside leads to yet another mezzanine packed with buddhist figurines. Some of these figurines are comically dressed, wearing small knitted hats or stacks of coins atop their heads. Others are dressed in a more bizarre fashion. On the way back down from the temple, we pass by an incense pot. I pay a small fee and light an incense stick in the pot. I pray for happiness. Ants and Quoc are slightly bored; they've seen one temple, they've seen them all.

We head down to the garden area and towards the bathrooms. After leaving, we walk up another hill northwards towards the Daibutsu (big buddha) of Kamakura, in Kotokuin Temple. This time we're surrounded by a swarm of sreaming schoolkids. Some of them are battling each other with fake swords as they hike up the hill. Soon we reach the Daibutsu temple and enter. This one is more serene; the architecture and grounds aren't as impressive as the last one, but the main attraction is evident as we step into the courtyard behind the entrance wall. A bluish bronze statue of Buddha sitting cross-legged greets us. It's pretty big, about the size of a house, and quite old; apparently it was cast in 1252. It was originally housed within a wooden structure that had long since succumbed to the elements. There's even a tour to go inside the Buddha; for a small additional fee you can see its bronze innards. We take a few pictures. In one of many moments of immaturity, Ants and I sit down far in front of the Buddha, assume the same pose, and snap a picture of us as "Little Buddha" with Big Buddha in the background. Only, a ridiculous smile breaks our face while the Daibutsu's expression is one of serenity and meditation.

On the way out, we head into the gift shop. There are all sorts of Buddha souvenirs; cookies, chocolates, plastic toys, and small bronze replicas. I spy a wooden oni (demon) mask; I am fascinated by it and consider buying it. It is beautiful in a lacquered, natural wood coloring. Only, it costs $100 and is a bit too much for my budget. I leave it with a small twinge of regret. We walk back to the station the same way we came. The shadows are getting longer and we don't have much time before we have to head to Yokohama and catch our baseball game.

We buy our tickets at the train station. There are an enormous number of high school students in their sailor garb. On the train towards Yokohama, we can't help but notice a girl in uniform with a very distinct look. She has to be less than 15 years old, but she has a model's sculpted face. It reminds Quoc of an old crush he had back in junior high school. A few stops later she gets off and is gone, forever. In crowded subways and busy pedestrian areas, I sense so much potential for human interaction to cure our solitude; however, these small threads of connection are ever so evanescent. Over the years I've realized that they are more illusion than reality, but I'm still dangerously in love with the romance of possibility.

At Yokohama station we go through the usual short disorientation before we figure where the stadium is located. It's actually not so bad, as there is another horde of baseball fans heading in a single general direction. We're looking for the home of the [Yokohama Bay Stars]; they're playing the [Hiroshima Carp] tonight. We find the stadium eventually; we follow directions for the ticket window for non-reserved seats, and shell out the 25,000¥ or so it costs us for each ticket.

Inside, the game is just starting. We're somewhere behind home plate. In the bleachers are cheering squads for each team, each sporting enormous drums and waving large flags. Everyone has these plastic noisemakers that clap together with the drum beat. The Japanese method of cheering for their baseball teams is so organized and precise that it would probably take us several games before we got the patterns down correctly. There are organized shouts, organized claps, and people alternately getting up and sitting down, yelling different chants. We're in a relatively quiet section, but a couple of young guys closeby are yelling their lungs out, getting smirks of amusement from us and the local crowd. They're grinning widely and smacking each other on their backs; it's obvious that they are the best of friends. Dozens of young men and women are selling snacks... but not your typical hotdogs, peanuts, or sodas, but rather taco balls, sushi sets, and beer. There is an occasional burger and shots of whiskey. They all yell out, "XXX wa ikaga desu ka!" (How about some XXX!), where XXX is either "Hanbaaga" (hamburger), "Uisukii" (whiskey), or "Biiru" (beer), etc.

We sit back and watch the game amidst the barrage of drums, cheers, and beer solicitations. There are a few caucasian members on each team, much like Hideo Nomo in the US. The Carps proceed to open an overpowering can of whoopass onto the Bay Stars. I felt bad for the home team, but there were obviously some diehard Hiroshima fans who were quite pleased. After the game is over, we stop by the souvenir stands; for a second I think about how weird it would be to walk around the US with a Bay Stars jersey on, before heading on towards the station to find the Yokohama night life and dinner.

Our wanderings lead us to a remote part of town, and we stumble upon the remnants of a daytime festival. There are still some stalls open selling roasted taco balls, red bean cakes, and okonomiyaki (japanese pancakes). There are also stalls with traditional festival games, such as catching goldfish with a fragile paper scoop. We walk around, peering at what each stall has to offer. Quoc gets hungry and tries the octopus balls. To his pleasant surprise, they are delicious! I gobble a couple of them up too. We walk further down the outdoor arcade and soon hit upon a red-light district. The large number of love hotels, massage parlors unabashedly advertising hourly rates, and street walkers give it away. A couple of women on the street appear like they're from Southeast Asia, approach us and ask, "Massaji wa ikaga desu ka?" (How about a massage?) It may have been my imagination, but they had a slightly forlorn look to them. Men in black suits, standing outside neon-lit establishments sporting pictures of women drawn in anime-style in bunny outfits, spy us and start yelling, "Irrashaimase!" (Welcome!)

We walk back towards a main road and into a Wendy's for dinner. It's been a while since we had American fare and Ants is starving for a burger. We order, eat, and head back out into the streets. We pass by an arcade which has the "Taiko no Tatsujin" game, and I pick up the taiko sticks and start playing, pounding on the drums to the rhythm of the beat. It's a lot of fun! The songs are very invigorating. It wears me down, though, since you have to beat on the drums so hard. I win a couple of games on easy mode and it's game over. I heard the game is coming out on the Sony Playstation soon, at least in Japan.

We decide to head home; it's getting late and we're far from Tokyo. After a short walk we find ourselves back at the station and then on the train for Shinagawa station. From there we transfer to the Yamanote line towards Shibuya. The trains are getting empty around this time of night... we catch the last train going clockwise, and worry about not making it home without the aid of a cab. Finally from Shibuya we are fortunate to catch one of the last subways towards Akasaka. It has been a tremendously long day, but I'm pretty pleased to have accomplished so much sightseeing today. We get off at Akasaka-Mitsuke station, which is a 15 minute walk to the hotel. On the way, we're surprised to be accosted yet again by street walkers looking for men to take them to a bar and who knows what else. I didn't expect this in Akasaka. It seems extremely easy to find sex workers in Japan. I found it strange that I never noticed this side of Tokyo back in 1995. I was pretty naïve back then, I guess.

We arrive at the hotel and everyone is exhausted. However, I'm still itching to go out and make the most of my time here. As the Tokyo trip draws to a close, I feel a growing sense of urgency. I have to go out and immerse myself as much as I can. I'm not sure exactly why this is, but perhaps it has something to do with an approaching midlife crisis, a sense that I will soon be shackled to the responsibilities of middle age. I miss being young and carefree, going out with old friends at night, and being around asians. It makes me feel very much alive, here and now, in Tokyo. I convince Quoc to come with me to Roppongi. I suspect that he has a similar sense of quiet desperation. He says he'll come after taking a shower. I tell him to meet me at the Starbucks. Ants is dead asleep. His sore throat is catching up to him, and he is hacking his lungs up during the night.

I walk to Roppongi, enjoying the evening stroll. On arrival to the busy Roppongi crossing, I head towards the Starbucks for a cup of mocha. The omni-present gorgeous girls in big puffy coats of Roppongi are still handing out flyers to people. A group of them tries to hand one to me. I just bow lightly, smile in embarrassment, and say, very politely, "No thank you." I have no idea what they want. Their bemused gaze lingers on me longer than on the usual passerby, and then they smile at me and giggle. I realize then that they weren't accustomed to people being polite to them; instead, they're usually ignored. I enter the Starbucks, order my coffee, and head upstairs to the seat at the second story window again. I sip leisurely on my drink, watching the people down below. Shortly thereafterwards, Quoc arrives. After finishing our drinks, we hit the streets. While walking around we meet a guy trying to solicit us to a bar called Wall Street. To stop his urging us to go to the bar, we tell him that we had just come from there. He relaxes and we start making conversation with him. It turns out that he speaks pretty good English. I ask him what those girls in the puffy coats were doing. He informs us that they are just handing out advertisments for hostess clubs, which sort of dashes my evil thoughts about them being prostitutes.

We continue onwards and from a lack of knowledge of any place better to go, we hit the [GasPanic] again. It was kinda dead, but not nearly as bad as Monday night. We stay for a short time and chill out at the first floor bar. I take my glasses off, to look less geeky, and the world fuzzes out. I feel much more comfortable being semi-blind in this kind of environment; it made me feel as if appearances stopped mattering when I can't see, and hence my own self-consciousness fades away. One guy who danced quite well plops down at the bar next to me while taking a break. He starts yelling at me, "Where are you from?" In Japanese, of course. I tell him I am a foreigner from the States, and he seems pleasantly surprised. "Any particular song you want to hear?" he asks. I ask him if they played Moby. I was thinking that a particular dance song, Machete, might be cool. "Moby?!" he yells back. "How about 'It's My Life' by Bon Jovi instead?" Fine, I reply. He leans over to the DJ and makes the request. I guess Moby's music isn't too prominent among typical clubs. As little as I know about club music, however, I have a sense that GasPanic isn't the place to go and hear the most nouveau house dance tracks. There was one song in particular that Quoc and I found particularly tiresome... a song that featured a ringing telephone and someone continually repeating in a nasal, robotic voice, "...some-bo-dy-pick-up-the-phone." Eventually we get tired and walk home along the route which has become quite familiar to us; it is the wee hours of the morning again.