Sayonara, Tokyo

And so our whirlwind three-night tour of Tokyo is over. Having had our fill of cherry blossom macarons, canned sweet coffee and humid trains, we are en route to Narita for our flights to Bali.

We agreed that in the 10 years since we left Japan, both everything and nothing has changed. There is more English everywhere and new skyscrapers on the horizon, but the crowds of people and the intensity of the assault on the senses in Shibuya and Kabukicho are as overwhelming as ever.

We were fortunate to stay near Shinjuku station on this stopover, and took advantage of our jet lag to see the area in the mornings at its quietest, traveling, for example, out to Tsukiji Market for some early morning sushi.

We did not, however, take full advantage of The Boy's jet lag. Each night he was full-on genki at some point in the wee hours, not really understanding why we did not want to play. When we retreated to our hotel after our morning explorations, The Boy was more than happy to kick up his heels on the bed.

They say traveling with a baby opens doors, and they are right The Boy's ability to charm strangers comes from his mother, and charm he did. The mama-san at the Tsukiji sushi joint who have him a Donald Duck trinket which went promptly into his mouth, a woman at Hachimangou shrine in Kamakura who excitedly told us about the cherry blossoms and then confessed she really wanted to see The Boy, an old man on the train who changed seats to sit next to us and offered The Boy coffee.

The Boy also makes the rhythms of our days much different. Too much time on subways or in the stroller makes for an unhappy child. So we've taken up splitting our days in two, retiring to the hotel in the midday to recharge, kick heels in the air and chew on teething rings. The Boy usually watches curiously. I think this new technique is an improvement, Tokyo can be overwhelming and The Boy is honest enough to admit it. We would otherwise be inclined to tough out the days and end up drained and in survival mode, but now end our days fresher than would otherwise be expected.

So as I sit on the Narita Express sipping canned whiskey and water, and being reminded of the (relatively) rural nature of large portions of Japan, I am glad we revisited Japan, and looking forward to the next stage of our trip.

The Boy is going to love our three flight, 17 hour journey to Bali.