Neil Hopcroft

Todays excitement was a trek out to the suburbs, I picked the line leading outward from Meguro (where my office is) and went to the end of that. My original intention was to find somewhere I wouldnt mind living, but I suspect that it doesnt really matter where I live, as long as its not too far on the train.

The trains get a little less eurofriendly as you get further out, with less being written in familiar script. No matter, the kana are almost starting to make sense now.

Anyway, first stop is a town centre not dissimilar to Ealing in scale and feel, though quite different in actual content. Theres quite a different structure to some of these places, there seems to be a lot of little resturant/cafe places serving local food. Back home we have almost forgotten weve even got local food, so obseced are we with the most exotic we can find. These places are also full of Pachinko and Slot places, which appear to be amusement arcades from the outside, but Ive not been inside yet for fear of becoming addicted again. I failed to find an open postoffice.

Next, further out of the city on the other line through the station, to a place called something like Hakuraku. Which at first seemed to be a small, sleepy little commuter stop on the train, with a CircleK and an estate agent and a little not-quite-antiques place, until I decided to poke my head out the other side of the station, just in case. Woah! Youll never believe what I found! Brixton Market! No, really, thats what its called. Actually its really just a long shed full of little stalls selling random unrelated things. I still failed to find a post office.

On the train on the way back to the city I figured out what the huge green nets were all about, theyre city centre golf courses. Golf is a big thing over here and there seems to be quite a collection of nets like cricket nets but way way bigger dotted around all over the city.

Eventually I arrived back in the thick of it all, I deliberately stayed on the slow train so Id get a better view of the city, then promptly forgot and sat down where I couldnt see. Fool. Oh well, to Shibuya.

Where I found a tower records store, which contained quite a collection of culture in English, including a number of magazines at relatively sensible prices (Dr Dobbs Journal is surprisingly no more expensive than in the UK, and probably only a couple of weeks later than we got it back home). I finally got myself a map of this town, so hopefully Ill have some idea where Im going soon… still, not gotten myself lost yet.

Further into the area, I found a black district, actually it doesnt contain many black people, just local people who like black music, which was strange. It also made me notice that there arent that many black people here, which Id not found disconcerting until I noticed it.

Skirting the edge of the rap music I found a punk shop, located on the fifth floor of what looked like an apartment block. I couldnt resist “Ecopunk for caffeine people” (subtitled “46 sticks and one hole”, which doesnt make much sense at the moment) – if theres an album for which Im the target audience, this is it. Well, by that title anyway, no idea what the music is like yet. Also on the shopping list was a Nirvana tribute album, which contains a glorious jazz funk hardcore crossover version of “Territorial Pissings”, in a style only the Japanese could get away with.

Time to go home. But I got distracted by a department store on the way to the station, well, I think it was a department store, it might have been a market, its difficult for my western eyes to spot the difference. It went on forever, nine floors and three blocks was as much as I could cope with, and was seamlessly integrated with the foodmarket and the train station.

I did see a tramp today, and someone who I assumed to be a beggar but didnt stick around long enough to find out for sure. There was also a disturbing concept in the “Naked Tramp” company further up the road, which I noticed as I hurried past, no idea what they make or sell or buy, or whatever. Fear.