It is an enchanting place, it really is. I keep thinking of all the things I want to do the same as the Japanese – I’d love a big shower room with the little wooden stools they use in the bathhouses, so that you can sit down and give yourself a proper scrub; I’d love to eat bento boxes everyday, with their selection of fish, rice, lightly steamed veg and dressed delicacies; I wish I could have windows that slide back, framing the world outside like a James Turrell room…it goes on.

But it’s good to be home aswell. I relished my first cup of tea with some brown soda bread

As for anything more dodgy, no we saw nothing else untoward after that first morning in Shinjuku. In fact, the more I think about it, the more anodyne Tokyo seems to me because it lacks any sort of thrill or edge. It gets it atmosphere from the buzz of consumerism, which is overwhelming. But having said that, it makes up for it with the sheer volume of people – watching the variety of people in the train stations is riveting. 

[This is part of a mural under a tunnel in Roppongi, Tokyo]

[Same mural...]

[This was part of an exhibition at the ICC, it was a carousel speeding around and animated by strobe lighting]

[An albino carp, we think, in the spectacular Kenrokuen garden, Kanazawa]

[Rocking chairs at the amazing 21st Century Museum of Contemporary Art, Kanazawa - quite a mouthful, but the most thoughtfully designed gallery I've been to]

[The James Turrell room at the gallery]

[Me looking down at Ross in Leandro's Swimming Pool at the gallery]

[Phew, finally got bikes in Kanazawa and Kyoto]

[Gion - geisha land in Kyoto]

[Gion]

[Rare mosses in the silver temple at Kyoto. Mossey, this one's going out to YOU.]

The hotel was very traditional – the rooms were beautifully laid out with sliding doors and tatami mats. Each evening one of the staff would come and make up our futons on the floor. We had a little lady who would come in and blabber Japanese at us, make us green tea and serve us dinner in the evening. She would carry our individual, extremely elaborate meals in on small lacquer tables.

[Our hotel room]

[Truly old school]

[A cushion for kneeling on before a dressing cabinet and mirror]

The food was overwhelming: a lot of the time I didn’t even know the answer to ‘is it a mineral, plant or vegetable’. For someone who fancies herself as an intrepid eater, there were a lot of tastes that were perhaps too rustic, or just too raw (thick slices of marbled raw beef, raw egg, and inevitably, raw fish) for my inexperienced sensibilities. Because the main meal was served in the bedrooms, the corridors would smell of food – it reminded me of my grandmother’s kitchen after she’d been boiling a bit of tongue.

[Dinner. Some of it]

So that was quite a challenge. But it all faded away in the hot, mineral baths. We bathed together in the mix pools at night, with the rain falling softly, and in the daytime I went to the women’s only which was full of old dears on a daytrip. The setting was incredibly beautiful, amoebo shaped pools cut out of the rock alongside a rushing river with shelter from overhanging deciduous trees. One could develop quite a longing to return for that experience.

The club was run by a Japanese guy who was very chatty, but there were lots of internationals there, including a Tokyo-based hip hop outfit.

[The girl on the right had dinner plate-sized earrings. Jeanie, this one's going out to YOU.]

[Some of the nice people performing hip hop in the downstairs of the club]

[A punter, definitely a ninja]

One of the international hip hop set had a face that reminded me of Prince of the Purple Rain era. Considering how friendly all his mates were, he was conspicuous by his aloofness, as was his deeply unfriendly Japanese-looking girlfriend. Anyway, at some stage of the night I felt compelled to tell him what I thought, and the conversation went a bit like this:

Me: I hope you’re not insulted, but you remind me of a young Prince.

Him: Oh really? That’s strange because my father was a king.

Me: A what?

Him: A king.

Me: Oh. I meant Prince as in the singer.

Him: Oh.

At which point we both turned away a little embarrassed.

 [They don't mind being twice the size of most Japanese women]

Shinjuku is a little seedy actually. On a couple of occasions I’ve spotted young girls flirting playfully with far older men on the street. The girls look back at them coquettishly and run on, the besotted men chasing them in some revolting parlour game. They both seem engaged, however, and since women look so young it’s difficult to know what the age difference is. 

[There are millions of lovely shopping bikes about and everyone cycles on the footpath. We haven't found a place to rent and I'm very jealous - my feet ache and I have two grapefruit sized bits of flesh where my ankles used to be. All the same, it must be a headwreck cycling regularly here - although pedestrians step out of the way, you're bound to be held up more often than not.]

[The Japanese love to sleep. There should be a phrase such as 'I slept like the Japanese last night' to denote what a marvellous kip one had]

 [Having said that, it was 33 degrees celsius that day]

[There was no excuse for this, however]

A young bloke violently shove his girlfriend, then chase after her, pull her hair and wallop her again;

A group of the local slicksters – they:re big into wearing suits with vests underneath, pointy shoes that turn up and Bon Jovi (in the 1990s) type hairdoes – walking out of a club and down an alley a la Reservoir Dogs;

Then we turned a corner and met about 6 teenagers calmly carrying their unconscious female friend down the street.

 This morning has been less eventful. Got an extra hour;s kip and woke up feeling fresh, so went for a jog. There were loads of people out jogging (6am) and even a group of young kids doing football training in the park. I can:t imagine young Irish Johnny being too enthusiastic at the prospect of getting up at 5.30 to play a bit of footie. But then, it is so hot here that I guess it:s more attractive to do it at that time.

Came back and had breakfast in our very cheap and perfectly comfortable hotel. Ross didn:t fancy the Japanese breakfast this morning (he has already managed to root out a pack of croissants which I imagine he is chomping on now as I type). So I ate the rice balls rolled in spices and seeds (it sort of tastes like monster munch, MSG mmmmm) and the miso soup. We:ve pretty much given up on the idea of Ross eating traditional food cos most of the stocks are made with bonita (dried tuna flakes) but we are going to try and book into Sen, a high class kaseiki (banquet) type restaurant that only serves vegetarian food.

Having said that, highlight so far was the food hall at Isetan, a rather medieval-looking department store. I could happily eat bento boxes from that place for all my meals.

There’s a beautiful 5km route around the Imperial palace, but some say that the traffic fumes are offputting. 

For some reason I can’t get into www.runtheworld.com which is frustrating cos they have an article on jogging routes in various Tokyo districts. 

The typhoon season reaches its peak in September. Typhoons usually hit the coasts of Okinawa, Kyushu and Shikoku and make for strong rain and wind in most or all of Japan on about two days. Luckily, typhoons are often followed by perfectly clear weather.

The weather in September can still be quite hot and humid, but the crowds of August have mostly disappeared and hotel rates return to low season levels.

Timetable for flea markets.