Sensō-ji, Asakusa Jinja, Art, and "A great cup of joe"
Jen has a week off before returning to work for a final couple of days next week. This was our first full day together in Tokyo.
Accordingly, after breakfast we took the subway and rode the Ginza line right to its end. Jen wanted to show me the Sensō-ji Bhuddist Temple and the Asakusa Shrine.
Like pilgrims and visitors for centuries before us, Jen and I shopped at the little stalls lining Nakamise-dori, the street leading to the temple itself. We picked up some things for folks back home - fans, prayer beads and the like. Jen found a stall she had visited last year. The same folks she talked to back then ran it. They sell leather purses and such. Jen remembered a nice purse she had put down last summer. She regretted not buying it. The same style purse was still available, so she bought it.
The temple area itself is crowded. I mean, it's really, really crowded. Tourists, pilgrims, busloads of school kids. It was crazy. We watched several people getting their photos taken beneath a giant straw sandal attached to a gate. I'm unsure of the significance, but it was interesting. The temple itself has beautiful paintings of Bhudda and a dragon on the ceiling. Lots of people were taking photos, and no one seemed to mind.
We rested for a bit at a little kiosk that sold flavoured shaved ice. Basically, I was eating a peach Slurpee.
Brain freeze is universal.
Afterward, we went over to the Asakusa Shrine. We spent a while just watching the goings-on. Though only scores of yards from the Sensō-ji temple, it's much, much quieter. Monks could be seen moving in the background. The odd person would come up, pay their respects, then quietly walk away. The difference in atmosphere was striking.
On the train ride back, we thought about stopping at Ginza, but we were both tired, so we put it off for another day.
An older woman sitting beside Jen struck up a conversation with us. This was remarkable, since most people seem very reticent around strangers. She asked whether we took the subway a lot, since it was so convenient. We said that though the system was complicated, we were armed with a subway map that made things a lot easier. It turns out that she has also visited UBC in Vancouver.
There don't seem to be a lot of Western tourists taking the subway. Most Westerners we see seem to be on the way to and from work (wearing business suits, briefcases in hand).
***
Thursday evening we strolled around Akasaka and found an Indian restaurant, Mohti. I had a very tasty vegetable platter, in the vain hope of regaining some control over my diet. Jen had mutton, since she is more realistic about such things.
As we left the restaurant, we took a different turn and by chance ran into an artist's installation, part of "Tokyo Milky Way." This seems to be a starlight and candle festival running for a month this summer. This particular artist used what looked like driftwood, giant black candles and a slide show of his world travels to make a striking work of art. The woman at the exhibit didn't speak a lot of English, so we haltingly expressed our admiration for the piece and went on our way.
At that moment we realized we were never going to get much beyond the surface of Akasaka, let alone the rest of Tokyo. There's just too much going on.
***
We finsished the evening at Caffe Arabica.
Background: The Akasaka Prince Hotel provides over-the-top service, great food and an interesting view of the Tokyo skyline. However, their coffee just isn't any good. I mean, it's not even merely OK, it's bad coffee.
There are lots of branded coffee shops around. Cafe Veloce has a branch near Jennifer's workplace. There's a Starbucks close to the hotel. Right next door to Starbucks is Choco Cro. That's right, a restaurant devoted to CHOCOLATE CROISSANTS (they've contributed to my diet delinquency, for sure). All these establishments provide a decent cup of coffee at prices comparable to Winnipeg.
However, Thursday night we were on a quest for the real bean.
We'd seen the entrance to Caffee Arabica before, but it had been closed at the time. We found it again (no mean feat in the maze of little streets around Asakusa). As we descended the wooden steps to the building's basement, our hopes were raised as we saw a wall of shelves with different types of coffee beans in glass jars, behind a counter on which sat different kinds of grinders. The decor had an African feel, with interesting wooden carvings. There was dark wood everywhere, including the ceiling beams. Each chair seat had a sheepskin cover on it. There were a few other people having quiet conversations.
The proprietor gave us a menu of different coffees. The cheapest cup of coffee was around $12. Yikes! Not the kind of place to go for a quick jolt on the way to work in the morning.
We made our choices and settled in. Jen ordered a cup of the Sumatra, I had the Tanzania. We watched as he measured and ground the beans, poured the water, and prepared cups monogrammed with the letter "A." When he served us, we both remarked on the darkness of the coffee. He provided heavy cream. Nothing else would have lightened that dark, oily brew.
Let's just say that it was the tastiest cup of coffee I ever drank.
***
Though we take the subway everywhere, we're walking way more that we do back home. At the end of the day, we're tired.
Accordingly, after breakfast we took the subway and rode the Ginza line right to its end. Jen wanted to show me the Sensō-ji Bhuddist Temple and the Asakusa Shrine.
Like pilgrims and visitors for centuries before us, Jen and I shopped at the little stalls lining Nakamise-dori, the street leading to the temple itself. We picked up some things for folks back home - fans, prayer beads and the like. Jen found a stall she had visited last year. The same folks she talked to back then ran it. They sell leather purses and such. Jen remembered a nice purse she had put down last summer. She regretted not buying it. The same style purse was still available, so she bought it.
The temple area itself is crowded. I mean, it's really, really crowded. Tourists, pilgrims, busloads of school kids. It was crazy. We watched several people getting their photos taken beneath a giant straw sandal attached to a gate. I'm unsure of the significance, but it was interesting. The temple itself has beautiful paintings of Bhudda and a dragon on the ceiling. Lots of people were taking photos, and no one seemed to mind.
We rested for a bit at a little kiosk that sold flavoured shaved ice. Basically, I was eating a peach Slurpee.
Brain freeze is universal.
Afterward, we went over to the Asakusa Shrine. We spent a while just watching the goings-on. Though only scores of yards from the Sensō-ji temple, it's much, much quieter. Monks could be seen moving in the background. The odd person would come up, pay their respects, then quietly walk away. The difference in atmosphere was striking.
On the train ride back, we thought about stopping at Ginza, but we were both tired, so we put it off for another day.
An older woman sitting beside Jen struck up a conversation with us. This was remarkable, since most people seem very reticent around strangers. She asked whether we took the subway a lot, since it was so convenient. We said that though the system was complicated, we were armed with a subway map that made things a lot easier. It turns out that she has also visited UBC in Vancouver.
There don't seem to be a lot of Western tourists taking the subway. Most Westerners we see seem to be on the way to and from work (wearing business suits, briefcases in hand).
***
Thursday evening we strolled around Akasaka and found an Indian restaurant, Mohti. I had a very tasty vegetable platter, in the vain hope of regaining some control over my diet. Jen had mutton, since she is more realistic about such things.
As we left the restaurant, we took a different turn and by chance ran into an artist's installation, part of "Tokyo Milky Way." This seems to be a starlight and candle festival running for a month this summer. This particular artist used what looked like driftwood, giant black candles and a slide show of his world travels to make a striking work of art. The woman at the exhibit didn't speak a lot of English, so we haltingly expressed our admiration for the piece and went on our way.
At that moment we realized we were never going to get much beyond the surface of Akasaka, let alone the rest of Tokyo. There's just too much going on.
***
We finsished the evening at Caffe Arabica.
Background: The Akasaka Prince Hotel provides over-the-top service, great food and an interesting view of the Tokyo skyline. However, their coffee just isn't any good. I mean, it's not even merely OK, it's bad coffee.
There are lots of branded coffee shops around. Cafe Veloce has a branch near Jennifer's workplace. There's a Starbucks close to the hotel. Right next door to Starbucks is Choco Cro. That's right, a restaurant devoted to CHOCOLATE CROISSANTS (they've contributed to my diet delinquency, for sure). All these establishments provide a decent cup of coffee at prices comparable to Winnipeg.
However, Thursday night we were on a quest for the real bean.
We'd seen the entrance to Caffee Arabica before, but it had been closed at the time. We found it again (no mean feat in the maze of little streets around Asakusa). As we descended the wooden steps to the building's basement, our hopes were raised as we saw a wall of shelves with different types of coffee beans in glass jars, behind a counter on which sat different kinds of grinders. The decor had an African feel, with interesting wooden carvings. There was dark wood everywhere, including the ceiling beams. Each chair seat had a sheepskin cover on it. There were a few other people having quiet conversations.
The proprietor gave us a menu of different coffees. The cheapest cup of coffee was around $12. Yikes! Not the kind of place to go for a quick jolt on the way to work in the morning.
We made our choices and settled in. Jen ordered a cup of the Sumatra, I had the Tanzania. We watched as he measured and ground the beans, poured the water, and prepared cups monogrammed with the letter "A." When he served us, we both remarked on the darkness of the coffee. He provided heavy cream. Nothing else would have lightened that dark, oily brew.
Let's just say that it was the tastiest cup of coffee I ever drank.
***
Though we take the subway everywhere, we're walking way more that we do back home. At the end of the day, we're tired.