Otaku Hajj

Dearest Rachel –

Now that we’re on our own to knock about the city, I can think of three major areas in Tokyo that Daniel and I ought to spend some time wandering around before we go home: Akihabara, Shibuya and Shinjuku. So when I started the day, I asked my chatbot for recommendations as to which one to go to, considering that today, being Sunday, would be an odd one in terms of traffic patterns, both pedestrian and automotive. It recommended Akihabara, since there would be certain routes that would be closed off to the latter, and opening things up for the former, of which we could be a part.

Which is just as fine with me, as while the other two neighborhoods would be well worth seeing, for otaku such as ourselves (setting aside the fact that we wouldn’t necessarily consider ourselves to be nearly at the level of your typical anime con-goer these days), to go to Tokyo and skip out on visiting Akihabara borders on blasphemy. This is, after all, the virtual mecca of otaku culture; it would be like going on hajj and not walking around the Kaaba. If we missed out on any other neighborhood, it would be a pity, but it wouldn’t be as if we’d skipped the source of the culture we grew up and steeped Daniel in practically since birth.

So yeah; if Sunday was the best day to go there, we would be there.

But first, there was a little bit of business to take care of; with our extended tour coming to an end, we had to pack ourselves up and turn in our old key cards at the front desk. While we were out and about, we would be relocated into a new hotel room for the duration of the time we’d purchased on our own. They would bring our baggage into it, too; but first, everything had to be stuffed into our suitcases so they could move it all. It was a close call to do it, too; I rather hope that we don’t buy too much more in the way of souvenirs in Akihabara.

It was a bit of a forlorn hope, to be honest, but I’ve got to make the wish and hope it goes through.

Indeed, by noon, we were already carrying around a quantity of goods that had me wondering if we were going to be able to fit it all into into our already-bulging suitcases (thanks in part to yesterday’s turn through Sunshine City). Then again, the bulkiest part – a neck pillow of Cinnamoroll, of course – would be a moot point, because presumably Daniel would just wear it onto the plane and use it as a headrest. For all its cuteness, I hope that it actually works for him, too.

Still, at least our haul, such as it was, wasn’t heavy or bulky enough to cause us any difficulty in walking around; and we still had plenty of walking around to do. In researching local restaurant chains – and yes, I have a thing for that, because while they may be standard fare for the average Japanese, the fact that these places don’t exist in the States makes them exotic to me – the name Freshness Burger came up several times as a place whose quality was on par with the nostalgic MOS Burger. So, with the assistance of the map application, we made our way south, and a little ways west, to a location just outside the overly colorful and noisy hub of the neighborhood around the station.

While we were there, we could access the joint’s wi-fi signal, and proceeded to inquire of other places to visit while we were in the neighborhood. Not to buy anything more, obviously – not only were we overloaded as it was, but most of the characters and series being touted were beyond our ability to recognize and appreciate. It actually gave us a list of places to walk to and through, along with detailed directions as to how to get around town and reach them.

But about those directions…

Oh, we got to the landmarks eventually, but not in the order described by our chatbot, and certainly not by following its directions. In fact, we started out from the restaurant going south, away from Akihabara entirely, as per its instructions, only to realize upon checking various maps posted on every other corner or so that we were getting farther away from the Mantei Bridge, our first suggested stop. And once we did turn around and find our way there, the route to our second recommendation – the 2K540 artisan market, situated under a kilometer-long stretch under a Yamanote Line viaduct – we found ourselves walking through the Pedestrian Paradise that is Chuo-dori on a Sunday, which was meant to be our final experience, by its recommendation.

It seems that AI still isn’t quite ready for prime time just yet. Then again, maybe it wasn’t capable of figuring out where exactly we were in order to direct us where to go – which, when you come down to it, still means it’s not all that ready.

Still, we’ve had the experience that one would expect from making the great pilgrimage to the center of otaku culture, even if we would only qualify as tourists within it these days as opposed to citizens. It’s not as if we haven’t been that for the last week or so.

And as tourists are prone to do, we’re footsore even before sunset. Between the various misdirections and doubling back, we’d put in more than over sixteen thousand steps and covered probably well more than five miles. Granted, that barely compares to those weekly walks in the woods with Lars, but somehow it hits different in an urban setting like this. Or maybe it’s just that we’ve been logging this kind of mileage throughout our trip, and it’s starting to wear on us. One wonders how the natives cope with it, but they’re probably used to it – and it may explain how they seem to keep that much more thin than the average American.

Meanwhile, the sushi place certainly did have a few things we wouldn’t see back at home – even for a non-fish eater like Daniel. He considered the hamburg steak nigiri to be ‘interesting,’ in a good way (although he thought if the meat was warmer, it might be better), and we both enjoyed the sukiyaki as a handheld beefbowl. But the tempura-fried cheese was so good that he couldn’t wait for me to take the picture, and his favorite was the bacon nigiri with pickled onion and… I think it’s an actual pickle on top, but rather than dill, it gave the bacon a great smoky flavor. These last two, in fact, we’re touted as specialties unique to this location, as well as several of the desserts (which I regret not picturing – the mont blanc was like a scoop of ice cream topped with cake frosting spread over it like spaghetti, and there was a custard tart topped with coffee-flavored cream. The cream was unsweetened, but the custard and the shortbread crust more than offset that). All this for a pretty reasonable price, too.

The only complaint, if one could call it that, was that we were out fairly late as a consequence; only our nights out at the izakayas (especially the one with the karaoke bar afterward) would compare to it. Then again, we were back to our room by ten, thanks to everything being nearby. And it’s weird to realize that you could be reading this before ten in the evening arrives back at home.

And with that being said, we’re actually just about to make another day of it out in another quarter or two of the city. So if you’d keep an eye on us, and wish us luck, we’d appreciate it; we’re going to need it.