The next morning I woke up early. I said my goodbyes,
it would probably be the last time I would see Aki, maybe ever.
I met up with a friend of hers, Ayako, who would be my tour guide
for the day. Between her o.k. English and my poor Japanese
we managed to communicate and plan the day.
First we went to the Sumo Museum, not as interesting
as a Sumo match would have been. Then the Edo Tokyo Museum,
a step back in time to the romanticized Edo era.
Yasuda Garden came after, small, but brilliant flowers and
pristine minimalistic trimming made it worth the walk.
Then my favorite part of the day, lunch. We ate Indian
then escaped the rain with a cup of coffee. I made up
a mission for earplugs, which was fruitless, but so much
walking through the shopping mall labyrinths made Ayako
feel the need to purchase a more comfortable pair of shoes.
Tired feet finally brought us to Shinjuku Station where I would later board
a night bus headed for Hiroshima. We dined and drank at an Izikaya
while I waited. I thanked Ayako for the tiring day, apologized
for her feet. Goodbye, and then I waited for the bus, chatting with
a tattooed man and a Norwegian girl, then I met two Colorado women
who were in the air force boarding the same bus.
I found my seat and set myself up as best I could with kindle,
snacks and headphones for a very poor night’s sleep.