The Immortal Vampire Chronicles: Pieces of Japan: Day 2

20th December 2009
Tokyo, Japan

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Shibuya: Down Love Hotel Hill

Living out of Suitcases

Down Love Hotel Hill

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Odaiba (Day): Remnants of the Fall

Washington Ariake Hotel - Of Service and Value

Room with a View

Brown, nothing but a sea of brown of varying shades and textures; lighter and darker shades, smoother and rougher textures beckoned us from across the street.

Often read about and seen in pictures, but never experienced first-hand, we just couldn't resist wanting to explore the little patch of brown that we had seen as we were on the monorail.

Nothing but trees and leaves, and the casual Sunday-dog-walkers were probably giving us weird glares as they saw our amazement and constant photo-snapping, at what was, perhaps to them, nothing more than just trees and leaves, an everyday sight.

But if they knew our story and if they knew our origin, then perhaps they would be able to relate to our wonderment to something so simple - the very sight of seeing brown leaves, and the thought of considering ourselves lucky to fall between the cracks of the seasons and to be able to catch the remnants of fall on our supposed Winter Escape.

The Fallen

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Ginza: Paupers on Privilege Street

Human Traffic: the only Traffic on Sunday

Heat flowed through my mouth as I took a big and deep bite into it, part of me wanting to savour the refreshing bout of warmth, but part of me also reminding myself to hurry to the next bite, as it would only get colder with each bite I took, and fast - much faster than I wanted.

This, or rather these, was lunch. Doing our rounds at the food level of the major departmental stores we saw along the way, picking up whatever we fancied, and then heading out to the seats along the street to enjoy, or perhaps consume them - considering the highly ephemeral nature of said enjoyment, amounting from the chill of the winds and how fast it turned the food cold.

It was a Sunday on Ginza, and routinely, the major road had been blocked off for the afternoon to allow locals and tourists alike to parade down the street lined with names such as Burberry and Shiseido (which in this instance, was a confectionary) and whatnot.

Chairs lined the middle of the road, and we found comfort in these for the times that we could not find anywhere suitable for us to take a breather and just fill our stomachs with the food in hand. Ever so often, we were the focus of the local glances and the occasional stare, harbouring a tinge of negativity as I continued to nimble on my croquettes, and cakes and the like.

Little did I know (and only to find out later) that it was actually disapproving to be seen eating out in the public in general in the eyes of the Japanese.

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Odaiba (Night): Frozen

It was warm inside, and my body was still adjusting to the much-needed warmth. It had been a long night - perhaps not so much in measured in terms of time, but definitely when measured in terms of experiences, or rather, hardship.

Every second out in the cold was a battle in itself. Each time the chilly wind blew, sending a running chill through my joints, (particularly my knees, as they were the least shielded), it took an increasingly great effort to grit my teeth and hold my ground, trying all sorts of methods - the rubbing of hands, the shuddering of shoulders, or a little hop-about-on-the-spot dance to try to garner warmth, all in the name of trying to take in the bay-side sights for that little while longer.

Odaiba's bay-side night scene was as beautiful as I remembered it to be, with the multi-coloured Rainbow Bridge setting the main piece of the backdrop, but this time coupled with a specially Diamond-lit Tokyo Tower adding to the colours and the flavour. The ripples on the bay resonating according to the strength of the wind, as the colourfully-lit boats in a distance sailed along the bay regardless.

Not Pictured: Crazy Shivering

Yet, the luxury of simply standing there to garner the sights was not one that we could afford, as one thing that we learnt on our journey was that: where there's water, there's bound to be wind; and that simply means making it unbearingly cold.

But we were in a safe refuge now, as we probably felt that we had bore enough of the cold and garnered enough of the sights for the night, and all we wanted to do know was to hunt for a place to eat, but for some reason were side-tracked along the way by the distracting lights and sounds of the nearby arcade.

Japanese was boomed continuously from the speakers, and naturally we didn't understand a single word that was said, but it didn't matter, as we were already familiar with the process - only that it had been probably too long since I stepped into one of these, and definitely a first with her.

A timer suddenly showed up on screen without warning and I hurried pulled her to my side just a second before a camera snapshot was heard from the speakers. We were frozen in time as we were, and then the timer started again, as we adjusted ourselves for the next.

It's rather ironic that for something so common, we had to come all the way to Japan to do it together after a good 2 years. And yet, something made this experience feel so familiar and yet so different at the same time.

On one hand, it was reliving a part of me that used to be an everyday thing, and yet, on another, it felt so fresh and so different being in the same booth with her, in a foreign country. Perhaps in that little booth, it shouldn't have mattered where we were, and yet, somehow, it did.

As the sticker-photos dropped from the slot after they were fully printed, I looked at her as she picked them up and held it in her hands, looking hard at it and shifting her gaze slowly across each and every individual shot lovingly.

I leaned over and kissed her lightly on the head, as she looked up at me with a sparkle in her eyes.

Ironic, how the simplest thing that we had done all day was perhaps the most emotionally profound.