Oops...

... I just stole a towel from the gym.

Ah well, my dish towel's just about getting ratty too.

Another 11

對這個世界如果你有太多的抱怨
跌倒了就不敢繼續往前走
為什麼人要這麼的脆弱　墮落
請你打開電視看看
多少人為生命在努力勇敢的走下去
我們是不是該知足

珍惜一切　就算沒有擁有


If you see me these days being silly at my desk, smiling to myself, dancing and doing the occasional head-bob, mu huge-ass headphones to my ears, please do pardon me.

If you see me feeling a tad happier these days, please do allow me.

And if you suay suay start hearing me gush about someone these days, please do forgive me.


Listen to him. Hear him beyond the music, and into his voice and heart, the things he wants to sing about, and how everything comes together seamlessly.

And then wonder. How could anyone write like this?

In all honesty, I haven't really been that alone all this while.


So, it might really be true what they say. Happiness can be simple. As simple as even a song.

Then again, that's just me.

Comeback

What better remedy is there to counter depression, what better comeback to a cruel return to harsh reality, than beef and mushrooms teeming in a hot claypot of soup?

Why, Hotpot Mondays, of course.



My boys. Oh, my YCHHHP boys.

You don't know how much I love you guys, I don't know what I'd do without you.

I will never know where to find the best hotpots in town without you.

Seven: 家

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!

My last day, and I oversleep yet again. And I have only fifteen minutes before the check-out time at 10.

I've got most of my stuff packed, I can't believe I actually have to pull out the extra bag from the luggage. And I never ever have to use, or even bring, an extra bag. My stuffing ability has been quite superb. I must've got some premonition this time.

I should be out by 10-half. And then, let me think about how to spend the rest of the day.


My breakfast plan is ruined. So I can only do one lunch. Dammit.

I should have about 5 hours or so to spend in town, until I have to leave for the airport. Then, I will do one last bento box at the airport. I love the food in the Haneda airport.

And I love this route between Honks and Haneda. The departure timings on either way are sure damn weird, but oh, Haneda is such a blessing. It usually takes me more than two hours to get to Narita from town, but I zip to Haneda in about 30 minutes.

This definitely sounds so much more humane.

Anyways, I am also thinking about that pair of boots I saw last night but hesitated buying. I told myself, if the boots haunt me the whole night, I will run back and buy them before I leave.

Let me see if they still haunt me after lunch. And if something else can take them off my mind in Daikanyama.


I didn't actually quite plan on visiting Daikanyama this trip, so I didn't yesterday. Not that I love Daikanyama no more, I still do. But I really am in a desperate bid to stop myself from buying more than I really need.

But this morning, I cave in. I think I have nowhere else to go. And I think I really, really quite miss it. So Daikanyama it is.

And I'm pretty sure I am in control. After all, I don't have much more space in my luggage anymore.


By this stage, by the way, I think I am starting to slip into mild depression.

And the rain that hasn't stopped since last night is not helping me at all.

I know... don't cry for me, Tokyo. You gotta make this easier for me.


I am getting into quite a pathetic fix now. The rain has come and gone a few times, but is now looking rather serious. I don't have a brolly, I only have my hooded sweat as a pathetic raincoat. My stomach's growling, but I refuse to settle for just anything.

Even though, I don't even know what I'm looking for.

The feel has got to be right at least.

I walk and walk in the rain, and am about to give up finding something that interests me... when I see something that interests me.



A noodle shop! Tucked quietly behind a tiny lane.

Awesome. I can never have enough noodles. And I think I haven't done much noodles this trip anyway.

Figuring out the menu is a bit of a challenge here, but I manage to make out this place serves udon and soba. I can't decide between my udon in soup or my zaru soba.

In the end, I decide to do something I don't usually do: soba in soup. And some sanma.

The soup turns out a little too salty as I drink more, but the soba taste pretty neat in soup. I can't say any more about the sanma, but really, trust the Japanese when they recommend fish in season. They usually never go wrong. The fish, I mean.

Again, a dish that makes me think of home. Especially on a cold, rainy day.


I manage to make my way back to the subway in the rain - but not before picking up a beret. Yes, a beret like the one you put on your head.

I have already decided. The boots. So I run back to Harajuku as well to pick them up.

I am well ahead of time. By the time I pick up my luggage and get to the airport, I should still have plenty of time to enjoy another bento. Or maybe, a Freshness burger.


But the bento never happens. Nor the Freshness burger.

I get to Haneda, walk past the burger and the bento shops, but decide I should check in first - just in case. And then, I find out I am in the wrong terminal.

I ask around for directions, and after a while, someone who finally speaks decent English manages to direct me to the shuttle bus stop.

So, I have to take a bus to the next terminal. What about all these bentos and burgers? Eat now? Come back later? Well, I think they should have at least the bento shops in the international terminal.

And they don't.

I check in, and I see the longest queue ever at the departure gates. I have only about an hour and a half left.

Fuck, there is no way I am going to make it, if I return to the domestic terminal for the bentos.

The last bit of the trip has turned out a huge disappointment for me.



I am in the official state of depression.

Six: 温泉玉子

I wake very deliberately today.

In fact, I don't feel like waking up. If today never starts and ends, there won't be a tomorrow. And if there's no tomorrow, I don't have to go home.

I am also feeling a tad funny. I have been a good girl for the past few days, I haven't been drinking much, just that mug of beer or little bottle of sake here and there. I sure as hell escaped the birthday madness back in Honks (my Gorgeous happens to be my near-twin, so there was a party even in my absence). In fact, I think I've been well-hydrated with tons of water, o cha and the addictive milk tea. Half my time in Japan, I think I've been stopping by every other vending machine to pick up a bottle of milk tea; the other half, looking for a toilet.

So then, why is it that my throat is feeling lumpy and scratchy, my body is feeling sore and tired?

It's just my body's natural reaction to that allergy called "work", I tell myself.


Anyway, there is no time for me to stay in and laze, no excuse for me to fall sick. There's still food to be eaten, though honestly I am getting more and more undecided about my meals. Too much desire, too little time.

And then, today is finally the day I am allowing myself to roam freely around Harajuku and Shibuya. I've been very good, holding off the shopping. But now, come to think of it, I'm getting a little worried I might not have enough time.

Ah well. Lunch first.



I've been wanting to try this little chazuke shop right inside the Tokyu Food Show at Shibuya for the longest time, but it has always been packed. I think my timing's right today, it's just slightly before lunch hour.

Chazuke's one of my favoritest Japanese meals. And it's also one of the most non-mindblowing foods. Basically, it comprises of good ol' plain rice, with some toppings like fish or meat or veggies and seaweed, and some green tea or broth which is poured over the rice.

Yup, you got it. It's just Japanese porridge. Well, more correctly, green tea porridge.

I love chazuke so much (as I do porridge or congee of any sort), I do that often at home. Real no-brainer. Cook the rice. Pour some toppings (I cheat at this stage, I haven't tried using any fresh toppings, just some packeted dried toppings from the supremarket). Boil a pot of green tea. Voila! Dinner's a happy meal.

(Another no-brainer rice recipe at home involves plain ol' rice, a soft-boiled egg (and it has to be Japanese) with the yolk still runny, and a few drops of Japanese soy sauce. You break the yolk, mix it into the rice with the soy sauce... mmmm. I always think I'll easily survive any wartime.)

So much for my love for chazuke, I do actually try looking out for chazuke shops everytime I'm in Tokyo. Strangely, I have never seen one - other than this tiny one at the Food Show. I suppose this is really more like home-cooked fare.

Anyway, I stand outside the shop for a while, because like usual, I cannot decide which topping to go for. There's the one with tuna, and there's the one with salmon. But I decide in the end I'll go for the "special" - the one with sanma, or 秋刀魚.

Fish in Japan is seasonal, and I've heard one of the best fish in autumn is sanma. However much I'm missing salmon, I think this should be a better choice.

The chazuke is quite a cheat - instead of green tea, I am given a pot of broth instead. Bummer.

Still, it turns out really good. Let me see, "good" in what way? Sometimes you eat something that warms your heart, that makes you miss home. Yeah, this is that good.

The sanma is really fresh and yummers, I just wish the portion is huger.

I'm gonna do this with miso salmon when I go home.


I am not going to tell you what I've bought, or how much I've disgustingly spent on my shopping trip. I think my free roaming has turned into a frantic run-loose. So let me tell you what I stupidly chose for dinner instead.



Let me first also explain why I decide to choose what I've chosen.

I was about to step into Yoshinoya. Laugh all you may, but I totally dig Yoshinoya in Japan. It's the usual beef rice bowl that I go for, but the one big difference about Yoshinoya in Japan is that they offer a fresh raw egg to go with your rice bowl.

Fresh raw egg! And seriously, anywhere else in the world, I might not have dared to do this.

So after days of procrastinating, I decided I was finally going to do the Yoshinoya. Then just right next to Yoshinoya, I stopped in front of this other shop. Amongst the many other items on the menu, I spotted this beef curry rice bowl - with a raw egg.

And I started thinking, yeah there's also the Japanese curry I've not tried this trip. So, there's the beef, the curry, the egg, all in this one dish.

Bingo.

I don't know, but I think I'm a tad disappointed. The beef tastes good on its own, and with the curry. The curry tastes alright with the rice. The egg goes with the rice, and maybe the beef.

But altogether, it seems not right.

I finish the beef... but the curry's just too much for me. I conclude this might just be a lousy shop.

I'll stick to Yoshinoya in future. And I'll stick to curries of the Indian sort, and Mom's of course.


And speaking of eggs... you know how excited I get talking about eggs, don't you?



I love eggs of all sorts - fresh, cooked, salted, thousand-years-old. And I love them cooked in any way - soft-boiled, hard-boiled, raw, poached (yumms), omelette, sunny-side up, scrambled, what else?

The eggs in the bento boxes I've had this trip have gotten me very excited. They look like they're hard-boiled. But when you tuck into it, you realize the white is totally firm like a hard-boiled egg, but the yolk is totally runny like a soft-boiled egg.

OMG - how the fuck do they cook it this way?

I couldn't let it go just like that, so I tried my darnedest to describe these bento box eggs to my friend Junko. I think she must have been quite perplexed to hear her Singaporean friend talk so animatedly about an egg, but the sweet soul finally decided what egg I was talking about.

"Oh! Onsen tamago!"

Knowing that the gem is called onsen tamago (traditionally, eggs cooked in the spring waters of onsens) is only half the joy. The other half comes from the knowledge that "you can buy an onsen tamago cooker from Tokyu Hands or Loft!"

Which is what I did today. I went to Loft, scoured the floor, and actually found an onsen tamago cooker. At only a little more than a thousand yen, I proudly declare this baby the best buy of my trip.

(Of course, I saw plenty other household items and kitchen ware that I really think I can do with, but I had to convince myself there's no way I am going to be able to grill fish in my apartment.)

Let me test this baby once I get home. And we'll see how my onsen tamago turns out.


In all honesty, I am starting to feel really lonely.

I don't think I'm exaggerating when I say that I have not really spoken to anyone for the past five days. There's no one for me to talk crap to. Half the trip, I subconsciously wish I had someone next to me whenever I see something really funny and some stupid thought starts brewing in my mind. My voice breaks whenever I open my mouth to say "excuse me" or "thank you".

I really want to talk to somebody. Anybody!

Maybe I do need to go home.

Five: 伊東

*Yawn*

I don't know why, but I think I stay up later, sleep much less, expend more energy, get more exhausted on my travels. Like this one. Am I not, like they say, supposed to get "well-rested", "well-rejuvenated" during a holiday?

Well, "rejuvenated" maybe. "Rested", definitely not.

I'm going on another excursion today.

Have been pondering over it over the past couple of days. Should I? Should I? Should I? Is it really going to be that good? Can it be better than what I've had in Hokkaido? It's a freakin' two-hour train ride away!

And it's "two hours" if I stick to the train schedules, get on the right lines and all.

Well anyway, I made up my mind last night. I will make this trip because one, it is in the name of food and a food adventure is no food adventure if you ignore good food. Two, it will continue to stop me from the evil shopping. And three, I will forever be taunted by this conversation if I don't make it:

Japanese: The best sushi I've ever had in Tokyo (where he lives) is not in Tokyo. It's more than an hour's drive away. But I swear that is the best.
Singaporean (that's me): Really? Really that good?
Japanese: Yes. You have to go.
Singaporean: Er... on my own?? How??
Japanese: Take the train. But it'll take about two hours. I'll give you the directions.
Singaporean: Er... okay... Are you sure I can find it on my own?
Japanese: Just ask around.
Singaporean: &^$*^&#((@*! (read: fuck you, I don't speak Japanese!)
Singaporean: Okay look, I'll be going to Hokkaido and doesn't Hokkaido have the best sushi? Are you telling me this place is that good?
Japanese: (smirking) Well... up to you if you want to find out.

So it is that smirk I'm challenging. Or, is it really the lure of good fish?

The directions were kindly sent to me over email. I printed it out and tucked it into my luggage gratefully. But it was not until last night that I had a good look, and realized things are not going to be that perfect.

There is the name of the shop. But there is no address.

There are the train directions (only one route). But there is no walking direction from the station to the shop.

Okay. I have to do some extra homework now. And I did, for two hours the night before.



I am quite proud of myself. I think I've got the right address, I draw some ugly map that I think only I can understand. And I figure out some other alternative routes too - just in case.

I have to catch the 9:13 am train first. Just so I can reach there in time for lunch at noon. Hmm.


The alarm rings at 7.30. I get up, grab the phone from the table, but I snooze it. My eyes aren't even open.

I am having some nice dream when suddenly... I jump up from bed! Fuck! It's 8.55!

I hurry to wash up and change. And then I run to the train station. But I get there right on the dot at 9.13 - I am lost suddenly in the crowd, I don't know where the gates to the line is, I don't even know where to buy the ticket.

In Japan, when the train schedule says "9.13", it means the train leaves at "9.13" - not a minute earlier, not a minute later. Japan time is obviously not rubber time, like Singapore time.

I am not even totally awake, I only woke up barely half an hour ago. And I am getting upset. More pissed with myself than anything, of course.

I don't know what to do now, it's not even 9.30. I buy a coffee and sit at the cafe. What to do? What to do? What to do?

Okay. I will never be at peace with myself if I never try "the best sushi in Tokyo but not in Tokyo".

Screw the directions. Screw the screwed-up timing. As long as I know Point B, I will somehow find my way there from Point A.

I go to the ticket office, and tell the officer I would like to get to Itō. I show him my crumpled directions, and he laughs mockingly. Apparently, the directions being given to me are being scoffed at. He blabbers some stations I should change trains at, says it will take me two-and-a-half hours, then asks me for 3,700 yen for the ticket.

I scoot out.

I will find my own way there. I look at the list of alternative routes I took down from the internet last night, and I think I might know. I head to the ticket machines, say a little prayer, and buy the first ticket.

Here goes the real adventure now. And it's 10 in the morning.




I've had a little confusion at the Tokyo main station, which almost made me give up on this adventure midway.

But all's good now, and I think I am happily en route to Itō, where the "the best sushi in Tokyo but not in Tokyo" really is.

I kinda like the train I'm riding in now, it is so made for tourists. Though I suppose we could've been luckier with some nicer view - it is cloudy and foggy out there.

Itō is 120km south of Tokyo, and belongs to the prefecture of Shizuoka. It sits along the eastern coast of the Izu Peninsula, and as I ride past the ocean, I figure Itō is much like a beach resort for the yuppies in Tokyo. It is apparently an onsen haven too.

I finally arrive at Itō, and it's half past noon. I am happy to see a quiet, local town. A mixture of old and new. It looks also like a tourist town.

There are really many shops selling fresh fish. I think I am not being duped.



I waste no time in looking for 寿司金. I'm already very late in my schedule, and I don't want to be stuck out here the entire day. I have a faint idea of figuring out street addresses in Japan, it's not definitive nor conclusive, but at the very least, I think it leads me in the right direction. That actually helps a lot.

I do what I always do when I'm looking for something cluelessly - walk and walk, round and round, weaving in and out of every lane and hole.

And that's how I finally find 寿司金.



I am pleasantly surprised to find it in a back alley. A very nondescript shop, I wouldn't even think it would be a sushi restaurant, but I am very positive about the words "寿司金" at the door.

I step in, and I am immediately greeted by a very tiny yet very homely place. Other than the small counter, there are only two other tiny tables. The rest of the space is filled with cupboards and cabinets. And a TV hanging on the wall. I might have very well stepped into someone's living room.

I look up at the wall, and I see a picture of Alberto Fujimori, former President of Peru, sitting at my very seat! This must really be good shit!

I am also very warmly greeted by Grandpa and Grandma. And another lady customer sitting at the bar. They are in a midst of a conversation. Auntie must be a regular here.

It is also established very quickly, the fact that I don't speak their language, they don't speak mine, and thus communication is going to be a big problem with this foreign customer.

I can read their minds, and I think they must be wondering how in the world they would ever have a foreigner walking into their shop - by herself. Does she even know where she is, and what it is that we do?

I smile, and in my very broken Japanese, tell them I am a tourist, and the only reason why I am in their shop is a Japanese friend who tells me Sushi Kin sells the best sushi ever. And then I show them the email and the hand-scribbled address and directions, and tell them I come all the way to Itō to look for their sushi.

I can see they are very surprised and very happy. Very impressed too, because they keep telling me how far away Itō is from Tokyo and how in the world did I ever manage to find them.

I ask for the menu, Grandma shakes her head, and Grandpa points to his bar where all the fish is. Ah, that is the menu. What you see is what we're serving today.

Okay, now how am I going to know what fish I'm looking at? And then, I remember another conversation:

Singaporean: Okay, so when I get there, how do I know what to order? And how do I order?
Japanese: Just ask them what's good. That's what I usually do. Ask them to serve me what's good that day.
Singaporean: &^$*^&#((@*! (read: fuck you, I don't speak Japanese!)

I don't know how to tell Grandpa, "Please serve me whatever's good on your menu today" in Japanese. So I point to his precious treasury of fish on the counter, bow slightly and say, "Dozo".

I think Grandpa understands me perfectly well, and embarks on slicing up fish after fish for this strange Chinese girl sitting at his bar.



I think today I am eating fish I've either never eaten before or eaten very rarely. No salmon but anyway, I've heard that ironically salmon is not the Japanese choice of fish for sushi.

Grandpa feeds me quite a few different kinds of fish. For every one that is wonderful, I ask him for the name and I jot it down. Just so I can make a re-order later before I wrap up my lunch for good.

All the fish Grandpa serves are indeed really fresh, really good, really orgasmic. But two fish remain on my mind that day - katsuo (skipjack tuna) and aji (horse mackerel). Just when my tummy's about to explode, I ask Grandpa for another serving of katsuo and aji.

At the end of my meal, Grandma brings me this bowl of salmon miso soup. I feel like I'm floating to heaven.

I have absolutely no regrets for taking that long train ride out here just for lunch. In fact, I think I am going to come back here the next time. And maybe go for an onsen soak then.

I am not throwing away those hand-scribbled address and directions.


And so, you might ask me, "Is that really the best sushi in Tokyo but not in Tokyo?"

I smirk and say, well... maybe, possibly... up to you if you want to find out.

Four: 誕生日おめでとう

For the very first time in her life, the Queen is alone and all by herself, far far away in a foreign land, though a much-loved one.

And if the Queen has to make a wish today - just today - it'd probably be that she wishes she would somehow get lost and not make it back home, so she could live in the foreign land for the rest of her life.

Now, that's exactly what's called 'wishful thinking'.


I am feeling very easy, very relaxed, very light today. Just right for a still-sunny Sunday.

I've been on constant vigilance of the weather forecast. The dreaded rain might just hit anytime. Which would then be very 'bleh'.

I wake at the first alarm, but I stay in the horizontal position, drifting in and out of snooze, till I finally roll out of bed at ten.

That's fine. I've got time today. I've got plans.

Nope. No shopping still today. My resistance is holding up very well.

But I will continue to eat, of course. And then, a game to go to. And then, an old friend to catch.

I feel like I have new legs this morning. Thanks to the cooling patches I found at the drug store last night, and which I left overnight stuck to my legs. And so, I find the energy again to take on another mission for lunch.

Yatta!




I am exploring a totally new route, a totally unfamiliar area today.

I do much random research for food from resources everywhere - friends, travel guides, blogs, internet. But the same problem persists. How do I know which of these named restaurants would really turn out good and therefore worth my precious effort?

Remember, I only have that many meals during my stay. They are all precious.

This time, though, I decide to stop being so anal.

And so, a name is picked from my travel guide. I look at the address which totally looks alien. It adds, "Exit A3 from Awajicho Station".

And that's it.

Right.

Someone once said, "An address in Japan is like having no address at all."



Well, I find it. I can't be totally sure, till I see the menu. But it is packed, there is a queue at the front, and people are still streaming in.

I'll skip the details on how I did it, because I can't really remember. But anyway, it's really quite near Exit A3 - just that it's stuck somewhere in the middle of one of the many streets behind A3.

Ah. A pretty, traditional-looking restaurant. It specializes in soba, one of my favorites. It has only elderly ladies serving the floor, who look like they all deserve at least a 20-year service award. Very pleasant and polite though, not one of those grumpy obasans.

And it doesn't accept credit cards, so I am now really looking forward to my food.



I do a simple classic zaru soba. And I add on a prawn tempura, just in case my stomach starts grumbling by 3pm.

I love the fresh handmade soba, but it'd be sweeter if they upsize the portion a little. The moment I slurp up the last strand, I give thanks for the prawn tempura.

Oh, and yes, this is also the first time I see a prawn tempura that does not look like a prawn tempura. But who cares? When it tastes way better than most other prawn tempuras out there.

But the best bit of the meal?

The sobayu they serve unexpectedly just as I am about to finish the soba. This alone adds many points to the score.

The first and only time I've ever tasted sobayu was almost a year ago during a business trip, when the bunch of us was brought to a rather upclass restaurant. I fell in love with it immediately, but I have also never seen it ever since.

Verdict: I will embark on a soba mission next.




It's only just about past noon by the time I finish my meal reluctantly.

I have tons of time before the game starts at two, and the Tokyo Dome is only about a couple of stations away.

Nonetheless, I figure I should still head for the Dome and check out the rest of the place first. Sounds more interesting than where I still am right now.

The minute I get out of the station, I am ecstatic!

A roller coaster!

Thirty one freakin' years, and I have not had a single ride on a roller coaster.

I think I will give myself another treat today, but not before the game starts. Just in case.



I am getting very excited about the game now. I have been thinking about this for a long time, and this was one of the first things-to-do I'd decided upon the moment I decided on this trip.

I checked the schedule on the web site. They are indeed playing a game specially for the Queen on home ground! Why not?

So I bought a ticket online, with some help of course. Very cool.

It's past one-thirty, and I think I should get in and take my seat. Maybe take another piss in the loo, buy some food or beer.

But I almost get squashed on my way in, and I don't know how long it actually took before I get past the gate. Looks like the house's gonna be packed today.

The game starts very punctually at 2. The home team Yomiuri Giants are taking the field first, and they hold the visiting Chunichi Dragons at bay with zero run and three quick strike-outs. But the home run from the Giants first batter is the one that is making me very, very impressed.

But the impression is not staying for very long. The runs from either team remain at a nought, until another home run from the Giants in the fourth inning. And somewhere between the fourth and the last ninth inning, I almost doze off.

A final home run in the last inning seals the game for the Giants with a score of 3 to nothing. I have never seen a baseball game that scores only on home runs.

(Suddenly, I am missing writing for Red Sports =/)

Then again, I haven't really seen that many baseball games live.

A bit lonely and feeling weird sitting through a three-hour game alone, but still... very pleased with my birthday gift thus far.


I finish the day, having dinner with Ai-chan and her mom and dad.

Next summer, I'll go hang out at the beach with Ai-chan. Ai-chan's mom says I may. : )



Babies are the cutest things in the world. Next to dogs.