Side note:
Before I started this post, I asked myself: “Why are you still writing about a trip from 2 years ago? Who’s going to read it? Plus this trip happened right before Covid – so what relevance does an old travel piece from December 2019 have today?” 🤔
Truth be told, this travel series is way overdue, same goes to my long-expired Wanderlost series about my backpacking days around Europe. Editing the pictures from Tokyo took months – a lot longer than planned, as did the writing. I guess I could blame my busy work life at the time (a stressful corporate job that leeched the joy out of me and often leaked into unpaid overtime, with the CEO barking at everyone through text messages near midnight, mostly just to get us to acknowledge something pointless he said or face his wrath).
Or I could blame the constant emotional exhaustions that drove me to Netflix instead of creative writing, because blogging suddenly became a chore and Netflix was a lifeline that offered a temporary escape into something fresh and exciting.
But maybe the real culprit was fear. I was afraid that I couldn’t write the way I used to. So each time I couldn’t find the right words to describe something, I hesitated. Then I procrastinated. Soon, it became a pattern that had no end – until early this year when I decided to try again.
You see, documenting my travels is a personal accomplishment for me. Trips like these are special events that don’t happen very often, which I cherish dearly. And writing about them helps me to relive some of the moments that I miss. I’m sure we all feel this way about our travels. We’re left with photos, videos and scribbled notes to jog our memory of the places we visited, the people we met, the things we tasted and experienced. The things we don’t want to forget.
I’m still trying to rediscover my creative flow with words, but I’m excited to try again. I might be the only person reading this, and that’s absolutely okay. I don’t count it a waste. I started this blog out of my love for writing. And if you’re reading this, thank you for taking the time. It really means a lot to me, and I sincerely hope you find these posts insightful and worth your time. 🙂 Thank you again for getting this far, you’re a patient reader.
So, to get back to the whole reason I started this post: let’s travel 2 years back in time before Covid stole the show, to a sunny but frigid winter morning in Akihabara, Tokyo:
December 6, 2019
You may know Akihabara as the popular anime district of Japan. It’s the mecca for all things manga, anime, J-pop and electronics. Oh, and gashapon machines.
My husband, Emmanuel, is into anime, collectible toys and plastic model kits – so Akihabara was like Disneyland to him. Each time we found a store selling figurines or anime collectibles (which was every other second because they were mostly situated next to each other), he walked in like a kid lost in a candy store, pausing at every shelf to admire the detail that went into each figurine. He seemed to know most of these characters, and we’d easily spend one or two hours in each building. Some of these buildings were 10 floors high, with each floor dedicated to a certain genre: trading cards, toys, collectibles, movies.
To my husband, this was heaven; to me, it was a museum. I tried to kill time by walking through all the floors and peered closely at the merchandise housed in glass boxes, trying to appreciate the craft. They were all stunning, exquisitely-sculpted toys and figurines with lifelike details that were extremely impressive, but imagine not knowing a single thing about these toys. They were all just beautiful exhibits to me.
However, I did find something exciting in Akihabara: arcades. Who would’ve thought that I’d become addicted to those claw machines? I became obsessed over one of those cute little frappucino keychains. They’re not real frappucinos, of course. But they looked so real (something Japan does really well), and with each failed attempt, it only fueled my motivation to keep trying. After nearly 20 attempts, I finally gave up and decided the machine must be rigged. Either that or I was just awful at the claw.
Akihabara is a fascinating hub of its own, with an exotic culture that can’t be found anywhere else in the world. You’ll find middle-aged working men in their business suits, pounding away at game machines in arcades. Throngs of school students in their uniforms crowding around the Mario Kart racing arcade machine at 2PM in the afternoon, or sneaking out of those cutesy photo sticker booths known as purikura, where your face is digitally altered to look like an almost anime version of yourself.
Apart from attempting claw machines, I found myself playing House Of The Dead: Scarlet Dawn, a rather macabre shooting game where you try to escape from hoards of zombies while trying to keep your rifle/machete/machine gun loaded up so you don’t die from lack of ammunition. I didn’t survive. My character didn’t make it past Chapter 3. I don’t know if they have this game machine anywhere else, but if you like zombie games/movies, you’d probably enjoy this one. The grim lighting in that arcade box and the eerie sound effects were very convincing. I’m glad I didn’t dream of zombies that night.
Akihabara has something for everyone, even if you’re not into toy figurines, anime, arcades or electronics. There’s good food on every corner. We had beef so tender; the kind that melts in your mouth like butter – only at Roast Beef Ono!
This was the Roast Beef Rice Bowl set, which came with perfectly cooked wagyu beef, pickled vegetables, rice, soup and topped with a runny egg and a splash of cream. Delicious!
We loved it so much, we went back twice during our stay in Tokyo.
Writing about this is making me miss Japan sooo much! Can’t wait to head back for another visit.
Carissa Journals 