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.