The Hours

There aren’t enough hours in the day.

There are certainly not enough hours in the day while on holiday, even when all you have planned is to meander about and people-watch. In this regard, Tokyo is one of the most visually engaging locations on the planet, a kaleidoscope of light and colour and active participation from its populace to seize the moment in both style and trend. But there also isn’t enough time as, post-pandemic, I’ve realized how much I’ve missed and longed for the escape of going beyond borders to experience something new. I’m three years older now. Busier with work and growing a business. Tired and sore at the end of the day. Missing the opportunity to add to the rich tapestry of memory in my life is something that may not happen as frequently in time. So seizing the moment, however banal, is pivotal.

Walking streets where no one knows my name and I don’t understand the local language is the freest feeling in the world for me. Senses heightened, intellect sharpened, it is a way for me to inject adventure into my life while fully experiencing everything in my peripheral. As a solo traveller, you are forced to be alert and present. Perhaps moreso as a woman. In Japan though, this alertness is enveloped in the solace of knowing I am in one of the safest countries in the world.

For the duration of my trip, I walked no less than 15 kilometres per day. From a base in the neon jungle of Shinjuku, where buildings mimic rainbow road and house castles at their peak, I traversed the city and most of its districts. Odaiba is relatively new and sanitized. An artificial island in which there is an artificial Statue of Liberty. Odaiba is listed as a touristy area with a variety of shopping and entertainment centres, although walking just beyond the immediate and obvious sights you realize how empty and quiet it truly is. It is one of the only spots I’ve encountered in Tokyo truly devoid of energy.

And then there’s the long hike from Akihibara (Electric Town) past Kappabashi Dougu Street to Senso-ji Temple. During the AM in Akihibara, the streets are lined with men—literally hundreds of men—eager to retain their high score in this gamer paradise. At night, those same streets are lined with young women—literally hundreds of young women—handing out flyers while coquettishly batting their eyelashes in an effort to entice those same men into the maid cafés so densely (and wisely) located next door. Senso-ji Temple is an always crowded spot. Perhaps the best temple in Tokyo for observing prayer by locals in traditional dress. As for Kappabashi Dougu Street … I still recall the first time I came across the giant chef’s head at its origin and was completely perplexed at what I was looking at. I later learned, of course, that it wasn’t haphazard placement at all. Rather, it signalled the entrance of the restaurant suppliers marketplace, an enjoyable area to window shop for an hour.

Ginza, home of some of the world’s most expensive real estate, is the area where I can’t afford to even enter a store but walking through on a hot day gives much-needed brisk, icy blasts of air conditioning as doormen open entrances to those who can. Ginza is but a passage to my favourite temple in Tokyo though, Zojo-ji. The wafts of incense continually burning carry in the air and make it a truly spiritual experience. Right behind Zoji-ji is Tokyo Tower, a stark contrast in both architecture and culture.

On the final day of my trip—and with a pilot strike deadline looming at the airline I travelled with—I decided to do one of my favourite things in Japan: spend the day in tranquility at an onsen “theme park”. It’s not the place to people-watch but to reflect inwardly. To soak in sulphuric milky mineral baths and reminisce on the hours and kilometres walked. I may not have had the most definitive of plans when I started but the sum of my journey gave me exactly what I sought. A reassurance that the hours, however banal, do add up to something great.

New Worlds, New Perspectives

While in Tokyo, I acquired tickets to two of the most sought-after art exhibits in town: Yayoi Kusama’s Self-Obliteration/Psychedelic World and teamLab Planets. Reservations are required and they both sell-out quickly.

I had my first experience with contemporary avant garde artist Yayoi’s immersive work last year while in Los Angeles and was eager to view more pieces from her collection and learn the credo of world peace and love for humanity that is evoked through her body of work. The current featured exhibit at the museum which bears her name, Yayoi Kusama’s Self Obliteration/Psychedelic World, opened on April 29. While listed as a museum though, I would classify it as a small gallery that was more limited than I anticipated offering no real insight into who Yayoi Kusama is as a person. To truly get a sense of her scope, I would recommend a traveling exhibit rather than this museum.

teamLab is an art collective that aims to create exhibits which explore the relationship between humanity and the world around them. In Planets, their current Tokyo-based exhibition, visitors become one with the tactile and light-based artwork. In the Water Gallery, for example, you walk down dark hallways pooled with water that barely reflect the minimal lighting and then step into a knee-deep pond in which your movement attracts digital koi drawn to your presence. The work is rendered in real time by a computer; it is not pre-recorded, nor set on a loop. The interaction between the viewer and the installation determines how the artwork looks.

As one can imagine, teamLab is selfie heaven and this is the part that slightly diminished the experience. It was hard to truly appreciate some of the work with so many people posing. It was also difficult to read artist statements to understand the piece you are experiencing. But perhaps that is the ultimate (intended or not) message on humanity’s interaction with the world—that we are only interested in it in a self-serving manner.

The Yayoi Kusama Museum, Tokyo (©2023, Deborah Clague).

Each and Every Wish for Peace Just Shines, Yayoi Kusama Museum, Tokyo (©2023, Deborah Clague).

The Obliteration Room, Yayoi Kusama Museum, Tokyo (©2023, Deborah Clague).

The Obliteration Room, Yayoi Kusama Museum, Tokyo (©2023, Deborah Clague).

The Obliteration Room, Yayoi Kusama Museum, Tokyo (©2023, Deborah Clague).

Flowers that Bloom at Midnight, Yayoi Kusama Museum, Tokyo (©2023, Deborah Clague).

Expanding Three-Dimensional Existence in Transforming Space, teamLab Planets, Tokyo (©2023, Deborah Clague).

The Infinite Crystal Universe, teamLab Planets, Tokyo (©2023, Deborah Clague).

The Infinite Crystal Universe, teamLab Planets, Tokyo (©2023, Deborah Clague).

The very dark, and slightly ominous looking, water-filled hallways one must walk through to get from one exhibit to the next, teamLab Planets, Tokyo (©2023, Deborah Clague).

Drawing on the Water Surface Created by the Dance of Koi and People, teamLab Planets, Tokyo (©2023, Deborah Clague).

Drawing on the Water Surface Created by the Dance of Koi and People, teamLab Planets, Tokyo (©2023, Deborah Clague).

Moss Garden of Resonating Microcosms, teamLab Planets, Tokyo (©2023, Deborah Clague).

Floating Flower Garden, teamLab Planets, Tokyo (©2023, Deborah Clague).

Floating Flower Garden, teamLab Planets, Tokyo (©2023, Deborah Clague).

Floating Flower Garden, teamLab Planets, Tokyo (©2023, Deborah Clague).

Cafe of the Day

There are a few reasons why I enjoyed visiting Anakuma Café so much.

An an introvert, the lack of human interaction (or any humans being present at all) was appealing. The menu has a number of items, from hot and cold beverages to foodstuffs. All orders are placed and paid for exclusively via a touchscreen.

As someone employed in a creative field, the concept behind the café was truly interesting, innovative and peculiar. It is not something I’ve ever seen before. While the café itself is tiny, my experience was, shall we say, immersive and unique.

As a tea lover, the delicious cold lemon tea I ordered quenched my thirst on an obscenely hot day.

And, as an animal lover, I loved that I was served my drink through a hole in the wall by a giant resident “bear” that also gave me some treats for my journey with a lovely parting message and a high five. I am in my forties and Anakuma Café was an absolute delight. I can’t recommend it enough.

Anakuma Café, Harajuku, Tokyo (©2023, Deborah Clague).

A most peculiar place, Anakuma Café, Harajuku, Tokyo (©2023, Deborah Clague).

Receiving treats from the resident “bear” at Anakuma Café. After placing an order, you also receive a special coin to use on the prize machine. I won a free drinks and a box of donuts coupon, which I gave to the two other local customers in the shop. Anakuma Café, Harajuku, Tokyo (©2023, Deborah Clague).

Anakuma Café, Harajuku, Tokyo (©2023, Deborah Clague).

Quenching my thirst with a lemon tea on a 33 degrees celsius day, Anakuma Café, Harajuku, Tokyo (©2023, Deborah Clague).

Parting message from the resident bear at Anakuma Café, Harajuku, Tokyo (©2023, Deborah Clague).

Hand-drawn message from the resident bear at Anakuma Café, Harajuku, Tokyo (©2023, Deborah Clague).

Cafe of the Day

Another day, another only in Japan experience. Today, I visited a micro-pig café.

Beverages are an after-thought here, although you could treat yourself to an assortment of coffee and juice. This is purely a place to offer your body as use of a pillow for a bunch of absolutely adorable and sociable micro-pigs of varying sizes and ages. According to staff, if the bigger pigs take a nap on you, it is a sign of good luck. This happened twice during my hour in their presence. I’m not sure how lucky my day will be but it definitely started out on a good note.

miPig Café is located in the Harajuku district of Tokyo, Japan. As with most things now that travel has opened back up, reservations are highly recommended.

Me and my new friends at miPig Café, Tokyo (©2023 Deborah Clague).

miPig Café, Tokyo (©2023, Deborah Clague)

miPig Café, Tokyo (©2023, Deborah Clague)

miPig Café, Tokyo (©2023, Deborah Clague)

Not sure if that’s a pig or a baby hippo, miPig Cafe, Tokyo (©2023, Deborah Clague).

miPig Café, Tokyo (©2023, Deborah Clague).

miPig Café, Tokyo (©2023, Deborah Clague).

Selfies abound at the miPig Café, Tokyo (©2023, Deborah Clague).

miPig Café, Tokyo (©2023, Deborah Clague)

The max number of micro-pigs that used me as a comfy nap spot was five. My legs went numb after awhile but I didn’t want to disrupt them. miPig Café, Tokyo (©2023, Deborah Clague).

The friendly (and adorable) staff at miPig Café, Tokyo (©2023, Deborah Clague)

4:17am

Day three of my visit to Tokyo. Still struggling with jet lag. I keep waking up at 2:00am and then forcing myself to return to slumber. Sometimes it is successful and sometimes I am jolted wide awake by an emergency notification on my phone:

There’s not too much information as I type this but it would appear to be a 5.4 magnitude quake centred around Tokyo. The hotel I am staying at has issued messaging over the intercom informing guests to stay in their room and that elevators will be shut down for the time being. I’ve been to Japan before—and am aware earthquakes are a regular occurrence—but this one felt bigger than any I’ve experienced. My bed SHOOK and I could feel the entire hotel sway. Hopefully this wasn't a prelude to something else.

Café of the Day

There’s a café for everything in Japan, it seems. Cats, dogs, robots, young women dressed as submissive maids. Today, I visited an owl cafe.

Animal cafés are not without controversy. There is much discourse around the ethical treatment of animals in these environments. In 2015, I visited a dog cafe while in Seoul. It was one of the highlights of a very memorable trip and I still reflect fondly of my experience today. The dogs didn’t appear to be abused or neglected. They were playful and seemed content, their behaviours not unlike my own pets. But a domesticated dog is different than a solitary nocturnal figure normally found wild and free.

The staff at Owl Village Harajuku claim their owls are not taken from the wild and that they do routinely take them out of the small cafe for exercise and to enhance their overall wellbeing. I can’t verify this—but I also can’t be hypocritical in denying my own personal responsibility in supporting the business by visiting. While the animals seemed cared for and I did enjoy my brief time interacting with them and the personable staff, I was still left questioning myself.

And maybe that’s where I need to start.

Owl Village Cafe in Harajuku, Tokyo (©2023, Deborah Clague).

My beverage of choice, orange juice, served in a namesake glass at Owl Village Cafe in Harajuku, Tokyo (©2023, Deborah Clague).

Owls fly about the Owl Village Cafe in Harajuku, Tokyo (©2023, Deborah Clague).

The “staff” at Owl Village Cafe in Harajuku, Tokyo (©2023, Deborah Clague).

Feeding Schola at Owl Village Cafe in Harajuku, Tokyo (©2023, Deborah Clague).

Feeding Uta at Owl Village Cafe in Harajuku, Tokyo (©2023, Deborah Clague).

The very gentle Alto at Owl Village Cafe in Harajuku, Tokyo (©2023, Deborah Clague).