I may be losing track of time and days.But I know where I am, and more importantly, that I am still alive. But more on that later.
Kushiro to Tokyo went in a flash that went on forever. At least I now consider 5 degrees celcius as being warm.
Then there were the Geishas with their charming smiles, impeccable manners, and engaging conversations as much as the lnguage barriers could. Koala is a good woord to know.
This was almost overshadowed by the food. Presented too beautifull to eat, too good not to. Now I find myself in Narita north of the main Tokyo central district with it’s flashing signs and crowded footpaths. The buidlings here are older, the roads narrower, the food just a good. The eel is sensational – sweet, salty, soft and a few crunchy bits all at once. The pork nobe hot pot, with the mushrooms and vegetables is brimming with umami. The sashimi tender.
As a special surprise there is fugu. Fried and crispy on the outside. Moist and tender on the inside. Fugu, also known as blowfish, needs to be prepared by highly skilled and qualified artisans due to a neuro toxin in parts of the fish. Or else.
I am looking forward to exploring the Naritasan temple across the road tomorrow.
Hang on, my lips are tingling…
