Ueno

The sprightly train spits me out in Ueno after not-long-at-all and I follow some wonderful instructions to my 4 day home, The Oak Hotel. I deposit my bag and head back out to Ueno. My first stop, for no good reason at all, is a toy shop.




The shop is on 7 floors and on every floor there is something to furrow a brow at, or raise an eyebrow, or fiddle with in a patently confused and amused way.

Hungry my belly was for proper sushi. And so, ever it's slave, the rest of me shuffled around the extensive market that worms and scurries brightly under and about the gloomy JR railtracks. Eventually I'd seen enough to have a good idea of what I wanted and it happened to be right by the Toy shop opposite the entrance to Ueno Station.





Through these sliding wooden panels, sour faced Nihon-jin businessmen set their eyes on tiny dead fishies which parade around a miniature track. I went in, I sat down, I was given plenty of personal space and a courteous welcome with a delicate pang of xenophobia. The lightly tense atmosphere eased and relaxed as they saw I could use chopsticks and I was, very much indeed, with no hint of subterfuge, greedily enjoying the local fare with rampant glee.