G8 Online

Arriving in Japan is not initially the culture shock you expect, since all airports look the same anyway. Once we got out onto the train, the view from the carriage windows of paddy fields flying past was our first introduction to the fact that we were in a completely new country. This scenic ride brought us to Tokyo, where we wandered out of the station in our knackered state and attempted to use the Lonely Planet guide to find our ryokan (hotel).

After standing around looking confused for a little while, a couple of middle-aged Japanese blokes wandered over to us and asked us in their broken English if we were lost. When we said yes and showed them our map as explanation, they proceeded to not just give us directions, but actually walk us to our destination themselves, before returning to their business - now that is helpful! The blokes were good value, and on the walk we attempted to explain that we were there for the World Cup. George helpfully pointed out to them that Yoshi Kawaguchi plays in goal for Portsmouth, and is rubbish; the inevitable "Beckham!" / "Nakata!" / "Owen!" conversation ensued. This whole encounter put us in good spirits, and we decided that if all Japanese people were this helpful (it turned out that they are), then we were going to enjoy staying here.

After struggling through the inevitable communication problem with the owners of the ryokan, whose English was virtually non-existent, we got into our room and collapsed for a little while. The room was about the size of a large sitting-room in England, but with four mattresses laid out on the floor, a TV in one corner, and a door off to a bathroom. One of the mattresses was divided off by a barrier across the room, making a little alcove so that it was effectively a separate bedroom - George somehow bagged this one. The floors are all made of bamboo or something, and you aren't allowed to walk on them with shoes - it's etiquette to take your shoes off when entering any Japanese home, hostelry, or temple, and slippers are provided at the door. Japanese etiquette provided value for the whole holiday as we all attempted to lure each other into minor breaches of it.

After this we had a wander round the nearby Ueno Park before trying to eat something. At this point we realised how badly we needed a Japanese speaker (i.e. Yuhei). We went into a ramen cafe - ramen being a Japanese dish that is basically a Pot Noodle, only much bigger, with genuine nutritious content, and lots of random stuff like slices of pork and bits of seaweed in it. Our ordering technique consisted of pointing at a picture on the menu and hoping for the best, but we struck lucky and the food was nice.

On leaving, we walked down the adjacent road, and found that it was extremely naughty. Men would show us pictures of scantily-clad women and point to their establishments, while young imaginatively-dressed ladies wandered past, sometimes accompanied by salarymen in suits. This was soon christened "Naughty Street". The main roads, meanwhile, were a bewildering glow of neon-lit buildings, as below. Having experienced a little bit of Tokyo, we left Yuhei a message on his phone, promising to meet him tomorrow, before retiring to sleep.