LittleDavyOne headed home on Sunday, abandoning her poor father to a solitary life on the road with nary a friendly face between lonely cold dinners.
Our last night in Tokyo was spent in a hostel on the edge of Ginza. Not quite the squeeze of a capsule hotel, it was more like a Koru Club DOC hut. Big bunks up and down with futon and duvet, spotlessly clean toilets and showers, and a hipster lounger area on the ground floor. But it’s a curtain to your bunk rather than a door, and like a DOC hut you can hear every rustle, gurgle, fart, snore and whisper around you, all night long.
We spent some time in the afternoon in the Ginza shopping district, which has all the global luxury brands in full-on bling mode, but unfortunately nothing in Ned’s size. It’s a testament to how much you can spend on essentially value-less differentiation. I was particularly amused by the convoy of 10 Lamborghinis that drove past, accelerating with impressive noise for 20 metres between traffic lights.
The metro/train underground network is way crazy: a three-dimensional puzzle of humanity in motion.
On her final day LittleDavyOne headed out to a shopping mall, before catching the Narita Express to the airport, and Ned Alone headed to the outer-reaches of Tokyo to make base camp for the All Blacks – Namibia match.
Ned was as cunning as a weasel for this one.
The Ajinomoto stadium is on the western edge of Tokyo, which means most people will be approaching it from the east.
So I had gone slightly further west, to a little stop on a JR line that is not recommended for getting to the stadium, so it’s clean as a breeze. My budget hotel was 30m from the station entrance. (That’s 30 metres, not 30 minutes. No kidding.)
Drop the bag, cup of very good drip coffee in a local cafe, walk across the bridge over the Tama River, catch a near-empty local train on a different line to Tama station, where there are shuttle buses to the stadium.
Cunning. As. A. Weasel.
Even if it is a Weasel Alone.