Hoot, Hoot, Motherfu**er!

I had come to Tokyo on the advice of my friend, Hana, who mentioned that I should journey there because it would be cherry blossom season. Originally, I had planned to give Australia a second chance (I wasn't a huge fan of Sydney on Around The World Tour 1, but that's a story for another time) and begin this whole adventure in Melbourne before making my way to Southeast Asia. While I didn't necessarily care about the cherry blossoms, Japan seemed like at great idea (thanks, Hanni!) and so I re-arranged my entire itinerary to begin there. What I did not know when I booked my flight is that the cherry blossoms blossom at different times all over Japan and that I would be arriving for the weekend of Tokyo's blossoming season. So with that in mind, Yavar and I decided to check out Shinjuku National Garden and the ridiculous -- RIDICULOUS -- number of cherry blossom trees they have. I thought we would be there for an hour, but five hours and 17 walked kilometers later, I will still trying to capture The Perfect Shot. 

i literally have another hundred shots just like this one.

not pictured: throngs of people. THRONGS.

Now, a question I have never thought to ask myself is, "how many pictures of cherry blossoms is too much?". This is, in fact, a trick question because the answer is actually <any number> +1. There is always time for hanami even if the storage space on your phone disagrees and your friend is giving you a look that says, "dude, you are not going to get The Perfect Shot and be be propelled into Instagram stardom". Ultimately, I settled on inviting the embarrassed smiles of locals as I attempted to channel my kawaii. It could've been exasperated ire, too. Just another god-damn foreigner mocking the culture. But with Japanese people, you'd never know (there's that 7 faces and 3 hearts again). 

will senpai notice me?

Next on the list was Robot Restaurant, which came recommended by a bunch of people and was highly-ranked on TripAdvisor -- a combo I am a big fan of. Getting a reservation turned out to be kind of a pain in the ass because we could only get one for Saturday afternoon and we had already made other plans. We could do both, but it was going to be a tight squeeze. As luck would have it, though, we passed by the venue and managed to get a walk-in because of a no-show. Robot Restaurant is really a misnomer. I mean, yeah, there is food, but it's a complete after-thought. Robot Cabaret would probably be much more accurate, but I suppose loses the allure of alliteration (see what I did there?). While there, we decided to partake in a local beverage called Strong Zero, which is...well the only thing I really know is that it's a 9% alcoholic drink that tastes like juice. It's bad news, I can understand why it's unavailable in North America. Yavar and I had two each and, having skipped dinner, were gunned by the end of the show. The show itself is difficult to describe – imagine huge, elaborate, remote-controlled robots serving as platforms for hot Asian girls that are butchering English words and dancing around in anime-like costumes. It was the most Japanese thing ever. I doubt there’s anything else like it in the world and highly recommend going if you ever get the chance.

Afterwards, we linked up with some random Aussie dudes outside and headed to a bar where we downed some 1-litre beers and practiced saying, “anata wa kawaidesu”, on girls. It was all good fun until one of the Aussie dudes accidentally called one a dog. My favourite moment from that part of the night was an earlier interaction with our new Aussie mates. We were exchanging the usual bullshit: where are you from, why are you here, what do you do, blah blah blah. Well at, “how old are you”, things got awkward when Yavar and I noted that we were both in our early thirties. It was subtle, so subtle, but there was definitely a look that came across the faces of these two 21-year-old kids. Was it surprise I saw? Judgement? Maybe I was projecting my own insecurities about being 31 and having no clue what the fuck it is I’m doing, but then I reflect on what my internal reaction was to being 20 and partying with 30somethings and am pretty sure I knew exactly what they were thinking. Hmm, maybe I should shave 5 years off until June haha.

look at those adorable faces.

Before we left for Kyoto, I wanted to hit up an owl café in Harajuku. I had mixed feelings about it because… is it animal cruelty? These aren’t budgies, they’re top-of-food-chain predators. It seemed a bit wrong and the first location I looked at on TripAdvisor had awful reviews. Still, I kept searching and found one that had very positive feedback and so we headed over. I don’t really have that much to say about it. The owls were way bigger than I expected, I didn’t think I’d be able to hold one, and they seemed well cared for by the staff. It was cool and I’m glad I did it, but it was novel.

this is Bob. i'm not kidding, that's his name.

Still SO many Tokyo moments I could talk about, but I'm way behind and I think I could chat about Japan forever. Even though I would never want to live here, I feel this might be my new favourite place in the world. I will need to come back.

A Side Note From Hong Kong

There's still so much an to talk about -- my final, wonderful days in LA, the adventures I had in Tokyo and Kyoto and the awesome people I met along the way, all the moments I didn't get to touch on from my trip to San Francisco -- but I kind of feel like I need to get this off my chest while I'm in the moment.

I feel unsatisfied so far. I landed in Hong Kong this afternoon after taking a two hour Shinkansen bullet train from Kyoto last night, catching up with Yavar for an hour, re-packing my shit, and then taking another two hour train ride at 4:30am to the airport. I was fucking exhausted and that was even before all of that travel and sleep debt. After being in major cities for the past four weeks, feeling like I needed to make the most of every minute and moment, I'm done. I just want to be on the beach, to disconnect, to be without WiFi and alone with my kindle, my thoughts, and my notebook.

And that's really the whole point of this trip for me. Maybe I've just been making excuses along the way -- when I finish GDC, when I finish visiting friends in LA, when I finish touring Japan with Yavar -- but I'm trying to figure things out. Or at least put myself in positions where I'll have nothing to do but think about what's next in mylife and what I want from it. And right now, since I started Around The World Tour 2, I feel like I've been living in two places at once, which takes an emotional and mental toll that I only have myself to blame for. I have a tendency to do that -- it's the part of me that struggles with letting go. The FOMO gets me, man.

Maybe not every turn of this trip needs to be dripping with crucial purpose, but if I'm going to do this then it starts with letting go of whatever it is I'm holding onto. Everything is a choice. It's time to follow through!

It Had To Be Said

I love Tokyo, but I could never live here. When I visit cities like San Francisco, London, and Los Angeles, I envision what life I might create or stumble into. I daydream and pretend -- the coffee shops I would become a regular at; the special spots I would bring a girl I really like; the new strangers I would turn into old friends. I can't quite get to that mental spot when it comes to Tokyo. Don't get me wrong, I love this city and I plan on coming back, which I feel says a lot considering its distance from home and the other amazing places I have visited over the years. But while the reverence the people here have for tradition and values is really cool from an outsider's perspective, there's something about that makes it difficult for me to imagine myself living here. Everyone here is exceptionally nice and polite, which to me just comes off as being disingenuous. I learned of a saying earlier in the week, which is the 7 faces and 3 hearts of Japanese people. Basically, it speaks to how people here build walls around their feelings, emotions, desires, goals -- they're true selves. I don't think I could live among that attitude. I find something admirable and recognizable about just putting it all out there, to expose yourself in a way that makes you vulnerable. I find strength in that.

Still, I love Tokyo. After the hilarious nightmare of finding our Airbnb on the first night, Yavar and I grabbed some food and crashed out just after midnight. Maybe it was the jet lag or the excitement of being here in Japan, but I was up at 6:45am, ready to take on the city. Armed with a backpack of chargers, cables, power banks, and my laptop, we set out for the day around 8:00am. Shinjuku wasn't far from our Shibuya Airbnb, so we walked around aimlessly until we found a Starbucks. I know, I'm sorry, I do kind of feel guilty that our first stop was a fucking Starbucks, but it's familiar and it has WiFi, so it meant we could get caffeinated while we formed a plan of attack on our day. After about 45 minutes, we picked a direction to go in and left.

We hit up the Tokyo Government Building first as its two towers are known for their spectacular views and it seemed like a good way to get a sense of scale of the city. Unfortunately, there was too much smog to be able to see Mt. Fuji 130km away (80 miles for you Americans), but there was pretty much a 360-degree view of Tokyo that was incredible! Having just been in LA last week and seeing the city sprawl for the first time from Griffith Observatory, I was impressed by how vast Los Angeles actually was. Ha! Tokyo puts it to shame. By a lot. A lot, a lot. It was just city as far as the eye could see and not just sprawl but vertical growth as well. There were so many skyscrapers and they're all so interesting and unique from one another. Vancouver's homogeneous glass look could learn a thing or two here.

So Shinjuku is basically divided into two sections with very different feels from each other. The Tokyo Government Building we were in was located in the financial and business district of Shinjuku -- very clean, very expensive, lots of interesting architecture, but kind of boring otherwise. There just wasn't a lot of the bustling action we were looking for, so we eventually wandered to the other section of Shinjuku to go to the Samurai Museum. I had mixed feelings about it -- I am naturally skeptical of everything and the number of things that seemed like replicas, particularly the canvases and artwork, felt a bit off. We had a young lady give us a guided tour, but she seemed to only be able to stick to her script and wasn't really able to field most of the questions we had. Maybe it was a language thing, but I'm not so sure. The whole thing felt a bit amateur, so Samurai Museum is probably a generous term. Even so, we got to try on some "authentic" -- dubious, but whatever -- samurai gear, hold a katana, and watch a short demonstration by a modern samurai of the different stances. Worth the price of admission.

Yavar and I made plans to meet up with Robinson, a local gaijin that Yavar employed at EA and whom has been living and working in Tokyo for the last 6-7 months. I was thankful to have an English-speaking local to chat to about the culture, the people, and to get some hot tips on what to do and see while we were here. We headed to a local British-style pub where locals mix with expats and foreigners. As we talked about Japanese culture, Robinson cut us off at some point, "you have no idea how happy I am to be able to talk to you guys right now". I suppose it should have been obvious, but even English-speaking Japanese people don't have that deep understanding of the nuances of the language -- the ability to detect sarcasm, pick-up on puns, or relate to Western cultures and concepts. It really gave me some perspective, as I've been thinking about if/how I'm going to be able to deal with being a solo traveler for the majority of this trip. I'm a social butterfly. I need people -- friends, people I connect with on some intimate level. Sure, I know how to meet people and have fun, but my highs are high and my lows are low. Celebrating my 30th in Australia by myself near the end of Around The World Tour 1 was depressing as-fuck...and that was only 19 days long! How will I deal with being away on day 30... on day 60?! Robinson has been doing this for nearly 7 months under much more difficult conditions (remember, 7 faces and 3 hearts). Maybe it's different, maybe it's not, but, whichever it is, I gained a ton of respect for him that night.

The next day, I was on a mission for ramen. Despite living in Vancouver for nearly 9 years, ramen is a relatively new thing in my life (Sherrie, thanks again, I am eternally grateful) and was only introduced to me this past winter. Since then, I've tried all the top spots in Vancouver, so I was eager to find the best in Tokyo. Enter Ichiran Ramen, which received the honour of being both recommended by a friend and being voted #1 ramen in Shinjuku. After a reasonable line-up (sidenote: every ramen place in every city always has a line-up...that's how good ramen is), things got weird. For some reason, there is very little human interaction here in Tokyo. If there is an opportunity for a machine to replace a person, you damn well better believe it's already happening in Japan somewhere. Much of the food I've ordered as been via a machine and Ichiran was no different. Ichiran takes things to another level though -- you order and pay for your food via machine, take the tickets the machine spits out, fill out a piece of paper with checkboxes for how you want your ramen prepared, and take those to a cubby that you sit at. At this cubby, there is a small window, maybe a foot high and two wide, where you pass your tickets and paper to a pair of hands. These anonymous hands bring you your ramen, pass it through the cubby, and unfurl a tatami mat to cover the mat, so you may slurp in the utmost privacy. I think I kind of loved it. Anyway, the ramen was so good, but I also came to the conclusion that Vancouver has some really dope ramen that is comparable to here.

Which is a great segue into my next topic... I believe Vancouver has better sushi than Tokyo. There, I said it. It had to be said. This isn't a completely fair statement -- there's probably zero bad sushi spots here in Tokyo whereas there are definitely a few in Vancouver, so the average quality is . The nigiri here is also fantastic and I had some fatty tuna nigiri that blew my damn mind, but there is very little here in terms of creative sushi rolls. Maybe it's a Western thing, I don't know, but there's not a lot of special rolls going on here like tempura rolls with avocado and cream cheese. I did, however, get to experience Genki Sushi, which is the #1 sushi place in Shibuya. The sushi was great, but what really sets this place apart is the ordering system, which is, you guessed it, via a machine. When you sit at a table, you order on this iPad-like device and whatever you ordered magically appears via a conveyor. It was cool.

I have so much more Tokyo to talk about, but I'm bagged. Back later.

These Are The Experiences I Seek

Being so tall, I think I've developed this sort of sixth sense for when people are looking at me or talking about me. I can walk down the street and just sort of feel the glances, stares, and double-takes; as well as the whispers to friends that often accompany them. So when a Japanese man that I would eventually come to know as Takeda approached me on the streets of Harajuku in Tokyo, I wasn't that surprised -- my sixth sense had already put him on my radar.

I had been told before visiting Japan that something like this would happen and that the locals might try to solicit me for a selfie with them. So when Takeda began talking to me w in very broken English with his phone out, I simply assumed that this was what was happening. Through the confusion of a very significant language barrier, I agreed to a selfie he wasn't trying to get and, after five minutes of going back and forth and getting nowhere, we eventually said sayonara to each other.

Shit like this eats at me. I hate the mystery of it all. I needed to know what he wanted, what it was I might be missing out on. Armed with Google Translate on my phone, I returned to the street corner where he had found me. I got him to write Kanji characters into Google Translate and we proceeded to have a very stuttered conversation. He was a hair stylist -- okay. He wanted to know if I was a model -- that's adorable (at 31, this type of shit really makes my day). He wants to cut my hair and do a photoshoot -- ah, now we're getting somewhere. And because momma din't raise no fool, I ask him some questions of my own: when, where, why, and how much. Fortunately, everything seemed above board and, after showing me his salon that was around the corner, we made plans to meet back up later that night.

k, but seriously, wtf do i do with my hands?!

The experience itself was... awesome and challenging. Awesome because, holy shit, I am getting my hair cut in a swanky salon in Harajuku by a random Japanese guy that wants to take pictures of me for his portfolio. That is not a sentence I ever thought I'd say. But challenging because I actually hate having my picture taken. I mean, even posting pictures of myself on Instagram is a fairly recent thing for me -- I'm too skinny, I'm too tall, I'm too pale, I'm too gaunt -- I'm too fuckin' sensitive to judgment is what it is. I shouldn't give a shit, and I kind of don't, but I also kind of do. So this... this was tough. I don't want to oversell it, it wasn't the end of the world, but it was definitely a conscious effort to just go with it and have fun. It didn't come naturally. And I didn't know what to do with my hands.

Takeda was dope. He's good people. I brought Yavar and Robinson along for support and translation skills (Robinson is gaijin that has lived in Japan for 6-7 months) and Takeda actually went to the convenient store to get us all snacks and drinks. This is pretty typical Japanese behaviour, but the friendliness still amazes me. Not only that, dude got me some chop sticks! No joke, I was just thinking to myself the other day, I should really get some chopsticks while I'm in Tokyo. Boom, chopsticks.