Tokyo baby

Ouch. Ouch. OUCH.

Hangover. Massive, but quickly dissipating with the steady oncoming of morning. After a bowl of pasta for breakfast, a light nap on the train this morning, a chicken onigiri from the convenience store and a few sips of cold sokenbicha, some rather unnerving clarity has returned. Perhaps it’s the sharp contrast to how I was feeling just a few hours before and how fast this hangover is going away that makes it all so surreal.

I was out last night (and early this morning) with Matt, a friend of a friend who was in Tokyo. He was here for a couple of weeks, keen to try a few different local cuisines for his column in The New York Times. So we arranged to meet up in Shinjuku to have some kaiten sushi. A beer and 10 plates of sushi away (between us, not per head- I couldn’t get my apetite worked up last night) and we were starting to compare notes on our overseas experiences, scary in-laws, the double standardness (if there’s such a word) of people in general and work.

His friend, Jason, joined us at some point in the night, and we started wandering towards Kabukicho. Amidst dodging tall Nigerian bouncers, drunk salarymen, hosts strutting in suits, and even catching a glimpse of the notorious Chinese mafia as they walked down the streets, we stared at the bright neon lights, taking it all in- the seedy red light scene that was the other face of Tokyo. It’s crazy how a city that is already so alive during the day can be even more so at night. As music blasted from several bars and people moved in all directions, we marched on with the promise of alcohol in the air.

After some time just wandering around and looking bars, we came across a few lanes of small pubs located closely to each other. It was picturesque and ethereal, like a fairy tale village out of a child’s picture book. Colourful lights adorned the signs of shop windows and from open doors, we saw that most of the bars could only seat 8 people at the most. We eventually found ourselves in Cabochard, a comfy little place with candles on the counter and Jack Johnson playing in the background.

Every now and then, people surprise you, and I was pleasantly surprised several times last night. I didn’t realise it, but living in a city on my own’s actually made me a bit jaded and tired. Maybe it’s how people are always busy and seem to be rushing off somewhere all the time, but last night showed me that they’re still people underneath it all and when given a chance, they can be nice. I’m glad I found that out.