Friday, 13 December 2013
As we headed down for the Ridiculously Healthy Breakfast, I found myself musing on a seemingly incongruous matter.
I'd woken up a couple of times during the night and heard noises somewhere in the vicinity. Yet, once the sun had risen, I'd slept soundly despite the presence of a major arterial road carrying substantial traffic outside the window.
I'd crashed with intentions of knocking over the review of last night's concert before breakfast. The late night, and what seemed like impervious soundproofing allowed me to sleep in until well after seven o'clock.
Yet, in the still of the night, I'd heard things going on.
Strange.
I knocked breakfast over quickly, working on the principle that it wouldn't do any harm to cut back on the dietary input. Then I headed upstairs to knock over the rest of the concert review.
That took a bit longer than it might have done since Madam was intent on doing something during the daylight hours.
As a result, it became a question of Where do you want to go?
I'd have preferred to go nowhere, or maybe take a walk through the back streets of Roppongi, looking for second-hand collector CD stores and taking it easy.
That, it seemed, wasn't an option.
So, while I finished the review, Madam, being helpful, set out on a Google search for CD stores. That ended up sending us on a loop through Tokyo Midtown that failed to produce any results whatsoever.
Once I'd finished the concert review, of course.
Japanese neighbourhoods and back streets being what they are there's no guarantee I'd have found what I was looking for anyway.
You'd need local knowledge if you're going to conduct a successful search sortie in that sort of environment.
Since no one had wandered up to ask if I was the bloke from Costello-L who'd been posting on Facebook local knowledge was almost nonexistent.
Having drawn a blank on the music shops, it was a case of heading off to the Imperial Palace.
Not that I'm a fan of royal families and their residences, you understand. However, there were reports of rather impressive landscaped gardens, which are always worth a look.
That took us underground, to negotiate the intricacies of the Tokyo Metro.
We ended up at a station that, according to Madam's Japanese commoner background knowledge, should have been close to the iconic double bridge that forms the main entrance to the Palace. It's located on the site of Edo Castle, the seat of the Tokugawa Shōguns who ruled Japan from 1603 until 1867.
When the Shōgunate was overthrown in 1868 the capital, along with the Imperial Residence, moved from Kyoto to Tokyo. Over the next twenty years, a new Imperial Palace was completed.
That version went up in flames on the night of 25 May 1945 in a firebombing raid, but it wasn't the first time structures on the site had been razed,
Previous fires had destroyed the area containing the old donjon and the night of 5 May 1873 saw the Nishinomaru Palace (the former Shōgun's residence) reduced to ashes.
The new Imperial Palace, a wooden construction incorporating a traditional Japanese exterior with a fusion of Japanese and European elements on the inside, went up on the same site.
Wartime destruction meant the new main Palace and residences were constructed on the western portion of the site. The eastern part was renamed East Garden and turned into a public park in 1968.
The current Palace has several interconnected steel-framed reinforced concrete structures, completed in 1968, with two storeys above ground level and one below.
Having alighted at Nijubashi station, we made our way across Kokyogaien National Garden. The large plaza in front of the Palace leads to the main entrance to the Palace grounds at the Nijubashi (Double Bridge).
The stone bridge in front is called Meganebashi (Eyeglass Bridge). In contrast, the one in the rear, formerly a wooden bridge with two levels, was apparently the actual Nijubashi.
As it turned out, despite sharing a name with the bridge Nijubashi station wasn't that close.
Once we'd hiked across the plaza and taken the photos to prove we'd been there, we needed a guide book or map that would give us an idea of what we wanted to look at.
It wasn't as if we were going to gain admission to the actual Palace grounds.
They're only open to the public on 2 January (the New Year's Greeting) and 23 December (the Emperor's Birthday).
There was a policeman on duty, and he wasn't entirely sure about maps, guide books and such either.
He did, however, point us back the way we came, suggesting there were restrooms over that way, and, possibly, an information booth.
As it turned out, he was right, though the whole thing was a bit further than expected.
Once we'd investigated, got our bearings, checked out the options and made a decision we headed off towards the section of the complex that was open to the public. That's the old Honmaru, Ninomaru, and Sannomaru compounds that now comprise the East Gardens of the Imperial Palace.
There was, however, a slight technical difficulty.
The East Gardens are open to the public throughout the year except on Mondays, Fridays and special occasions.
Predictably we'd made our way all the way along the outer moat to the bridge that takes you to Otemon Gate before we found that out.
I suppose we could have consoled ourselves by continuing around the moat towards the Kitanomaru National Garden. There, we could have checked out the Budokan Hall, the Science Museum and the National Museum of Modern Art. Lunch somewhere in the Tokyo Station complex sounded like a far better idea.
That turned out to be just as well, because when we retreated for lunch, the two of us hit a surprising nutritional wall, becoming suddenly ravenous.
That happens from time to time. In this instance, it was a case of feeling fine as we descended the escalator into the underground complex that houses a myriad of eating options. Two minutes later, we were feeling ravenous.
There were plenty of places to choose from, more than we actually needed as the hunger pangs made a decision imperative. The proliferation of eateries made it difficult to determine.
After considering various Italian and Japanese options, we end up going for Vietnamese.
Pho and fried rice for Hughesy, chicken soup and salad for Madam and the problem was solved.
Better still, it was solved in a location comfortably close to the station, and from there we made our way back to Hotel S, arriving around three.
Back in the room after checking email and other matters, I managed a power nap until five. That was probably what got me through and beyond the evening's concert.
It was just after five when I suggested we head out in search of a post-concert half bottle.
Rather than going straight to the gourmet supermarket where I bought last night's bottle, we headed across the road into Roppongi Hills. Madam's research suggested there was a pretty good bottle shop.
As it turned out (hardly surprising, the only time she'd failed to deliver was the morning's CD shop question) the research was right. We found our way into an upmarket operation, where I managed to sight a range of half bottles.
Closer inspection, however, revealed them to be Bordeaux first growths at around ¥14500 a throw. Given Madam's notional conversion rate of a hundred yen to the dollar, a $145 half bottle of claret doesn't seem like the sort of thing to sip on while you're typing out the evening's setlist.
So, back to the drawing board.
I needed wine and dinner. Madam had her own plan, and we split up as she headed off to a cake shop somewhere in the Hills and I made for familiar territory across Roppongi Street.
The quest for the gourmet grocer turned out to be a bit harder to find than you might think since I wasn't paying attention to the surroundings as Madam led the way in.
Still, I was only thoroughly bushed for about thirty seconds. I managed to find my way back by heading into the Roppongi station complex and casting around for a familiar-looking exit.
That worked, and I was stowing a half bottle of Medoc in the room around ten to six.
There was a slight further complication when I made my way downstairs for dinner. I was ushered into the shoes off section adjoining the restaurant, which was set up for a catered event.
Not that it was a problem. Still, you'd guess the staff would prefer not to have to deal with old hairy foreigners intent on pasta with clams and a glass of prosecco when they're preparing for a Christmas party.
Back upstairs to brush my teeth before heading down the street to the Ex, I found Madam battling with the corkscrew I'd borrowed the previous evening.
It was apparent she wasn't familiar with the old waiter's friend. But the bottle had plenty of time to breathe once we'd managed to extract the cork.
Predictably, having made my way into the venue twice and confident I had things under control when I got to the concert, they'd changed the entry procedures slightly.
Not that it was a problem, but the changes produced a massive queue for the compulsory drink.
Maybe the changes had something to do with the fact that the night's show was going live to air on Japanese pay-TV. That may, in turn, have had something to do with a great show that ran slightly longer than the others. Further details here.
In any case, I was back upstairs at Hotel S around 10:40. That was around half an hour later than the previous two days. I was tapping out the setlist, sipping red, and drafting the concert review until the 375ml had been polished off.
At which point, it was time for bed.