Garden City

Today Tokyo feels drab and melancholy under the cover of rain. Heavy mist hangs low over the high rises, cloaking their tops, erasing them with their soggy gray. Steam rises from office tower vents up above and down below pedestrians scurry around under clear plastic umbrellas, their daily routine unaffected by the downpour. This is only one of very few gloomy days we've seen here in the last few weeks. We were lucky enough to get lots of sun this past week, including the weekend.

Before I find work, I take advantage of the free time I still have and explore what I can by foot. On Wednesday I walked from our neighborhood in Marunouchi to Minato, and as I did, I was once again struck by how clean and neat the streets are.
How beautiful and elegant the concrete jungle can be. The grandure of Tokyo is imposing and overwhelming at times, but it never fails to impress. It is the kind of imposition that makes me scratch my head, wondering how we got here, as a civilization, so far removed from our primal roots, fighting against our very nature, against the backdrop of glass, stone and steel. How we throw ourselves into the flow of traffic and accustom to the rambling of the busy city soundtrack.

It almost seems too much to bare, but he majesty of our human achievement is undeniable, and the vibe of the colossal monument to human achievement that is Tokyo, energizes me. Admiring it, I notice that apart from looking pleasing, the streets in the area I just walked to smell fresh and somehow familiar. A bright and tangy scent fills my nostrils and I realize that I know it, I remember it. It is the smell of the sea! I smile and take a deep breath. Ha! I didn't realize I was this close to the waterfront. Surrounded by high rises, elevated mono rail tracks and suspended walkways, it is hard to imagine that this part of Minato ward is near the waterfront and used to be under water, in fact.

In order to increase the livable space around Tokyo the city waterfront underwent major reform throughout 17th century, during which time much of the shallows of Edo Bay were land-filled to create more residential space for many of the Daimyo (Japanese feudal lords) and Shogun families.
Kyu-Shiba-rikyu Gardens was one of those residences to the Okubo Tadatomo, a top ranking Daimyo of the Tokugawa Shogunate, and it is my destination. Stepping through a simple wooden gate I am transported into a green oasis and I instantly feel miles away from the urban sprawl. I think I found my favorite spot in Tokyo. It is fairly small, intimate, and it represents a typical example of a "kaiyu" (circuit style), pond-centred strolling garden. So I stroll.

 

Gabe and I spent the weekend biking around the bay area. We found and registered for a bike exchange program from Docomo Community Cycle. It allows us to rent bikes from dozens of different stations across town for Y150.00/half hour. They're easy to reserve, pick up and drop off whenever we're done with them, wherever we're done with them.

On Saturday we rode to Diver's City, a mega mall in Odaiba, a neighborhood on one of the man-made islands that fill Tokyo Bay. Uninterested in shopping, we make for the roof-top skate park on the 7th floor of this super centre. 

After a lunch of fish tacos at the skate park's own Mexicali restaurant, Wahoo's, we take new rental bikes across Rainbow Bridge, back to mainland. Climbing up onto the bridge ramp, we're stopped by security guards, who convey to us in sign language and their best English that we're not allowed to ride our bikes across the bridge and will have to strap the back wheels into a trolly that will force us to push the bikes up and over the 798m structure. Where's the fun in that?

We do as we're told, however, and set off on the slow and steady climb up the walkway, on the north side of the lower deck. Rewarded with spectacular views of the inner Tokyo harbor, we push over and down the west end of the bridge and into Minato, headed home.

The following day we ride to Hama-rikyu Gardens, a former Tokugawa Shogun residence on water's edge, where the annual Grand Tea Ceremony is being held. It's Sunday and the grounds are alive with visitors. Our eyes are continually drawn to the colorful figures shuffling about with short, deliberate strides. They're Tea Ceremony students and teachers, in elaborate kimonos, who have come to prepare, present and serve matcha tea to garden visitors, at various presentation stations throughout the park.

We buy tickets to participate in an English ceremony and stroll through the gardens before we sit down to take in the spectacle.
Tea Ceremony is like a dance. Poised and graceful, a Japanese host prepares fresh tea for her guests with well rehearsed gestures, each action performed methodically and purposefully. While we watch on and listen to the explanation of the process, we are served traditional Japanese sweets or sweet dough and bean paste, that are to be enjoyed just before the tea is served. A lingering sweet taste of the treat is meant to balance the bitterness of the matcha tea we're about to drink. Presenting well prepared tea to her guests is a sign of respect and honor, and as recipients we acknowledge our host for her skill and dedication by bowing as we say 'domo arigato gozaimasu'. We are also instructed to show respect to the vessel that the tea is being served in, a delicate and beautifully decorated sipping cup, by raising it and rotating it in our hands slightly, to allow the most ornate as well as the best part of the cup to be facing outward. We sip the thick, bitter liquid and savor not only the richness of this exquisite tea, but the profound delight of the experience.