Snatching a quick bite of sushi in Shinagawa Station one Friday evening in late June, a young man slips in beside me and after a quick glance to either side, hisses conspiratorially, "Tell me what to do . . ."
Richard Jackson, from Melbourne Australia, has been in Tokyo just 36 hours, and already his feet are killing him. "What have I been doing? Where have I been? Harajuku and that big shrine (Meiji-jinja). I'm staying at the Prince Hotel near here. How is it? Expensive and small, but convenient."
We meet up the following Monday at the Imperial Hotel, where Richard has just experienced tea ceremony in English. "Yes, it was interesting and short, just 20 minutes. Funny hotel though," he says, looking around. "So '70s." (Since he was born in the early '80s, this means he thinks it prehistoric!) "Still, I like the chandelier."
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