Busy doing nothing......

The dawn light started to illuminate the front room of my riverside apartment a little after four this morning. The clear sky unblemished by even a single cloud was a sight my eyes beheld as sleep faded into nothing but a memory, and wakefulness reigned supreme.  

I gazed out the window after tending to the pressing morning ablutions that take priority when you climb past the 50-milestone. The river’s surface looked so calm and restful as if it were still in slumber's sweet protection. There was a hint of a ripple near the furthest shore that caught the eye before they turned upward at the watery blue. It was going to be a nice day, I didn’t need to check the weather forecast to inform me so, although I did, before I went for a wander. I seem to check the latest meteorological bulletins these days, I’m not sure why, other than the fact that I’m in a strange land and still not used to what the normal climatic characteristics are for this time of year.

If you are at all interested,  23 Celsius was the temperature at the time, which would climb to 27 a couple of hours later. The humidity level was somewhere between 54% and 68%, plus a gentle, comfortable breeze, which made it less sticky than usual. 

I packed up my backpack, which I mostly carry by its handle, rather than its designed method, to avoid a big, sweaty patch slowly expanding over my ample back.  I packed it with an umbrella (to also act as a parasol if it gets super hot), mobile internet thingymabob (so I can turn on Google Maps and find my way if I get lost), wallet, purse, folded napkins, baseball cap and reading glasses. Thus prepared, I set off without a single plan. About 10 steps later, at the end of my road, I had to decide, left or right. For no apparent reason,  I went left and crossed the Shin-Ohashi Bridge to head down the Shin-Ohashi Dori Avenue. 

Immediately on the other side of the bridge is the Lovot Museum, which is an appointment-only museum dedicated to Lovots, which are cuddly little robot-type pets or creatures. They look adorable bundles on wheels with a sensor horn on the top of the head, which has a built-in half-sphere camera that can see all directions, a half-sphere microphone that can determine the direction of audio, an illuminance sensor that detects brightness, and a temperature camera that can identify people and objects. These electronic plushy things have voices, along with this modern phenomenon of machine learning, to become ‘part of the family’ and have a memory. It apparently reduces stress and can encourage different behaviour and induce feelings of love and calmness. I’m not really sure what to make of it, they do look adorable, with magical eyes and in a nation where more people live alone rather than live with someone else, they could be the ideal companion. For example, they make no mess, they self-charge, they don’t require feeding, and they will never argue with you. I suppose a downside for some might be the price, JPY 599,500 or £2807.  I’ve yet to make a reservation for a visit, but you never know what I might do in future. 

My walk took me down the avenue all the way until a crossroads with Yaesu Street, which leads to Tokyo Station, so I turned right and walked towards the station. Now, one of the many reasons why I love this area is the underground shopping streets or mall if you prefer, so I descended at entrance/exit 24  to the air-conditioned delight of Yaechika. There are more than 180 eating places and stores in this subterranean retail heaven, and I love to lose half an hour or more down here. If you get the chance, you should wander freely down these avenues; you’ll probably find a bargain or a treat, or a bite to eat, whether you wanted to or not! Hokkaido ice cream is rather yummy!

The sail of shade over a city garden of exquisite design

I picked up a picnic lunch and headed up above, to the second floor, which is an open garden area on the Yaesu side, with a sail-like shade that seems to go almost the whole length of the station. The area is like a raised platform, which isn’t so surprising considering that behind a living wall of plants are the actual station platforms. There are raised beds of green plants of various descriptions, interspersed with monolithic benches, wooden seats for four, recliners for two, and clear plastic positions for solos. A little tip, if you run out of power, the benches have power sockets, so you’ll be able to charge your electronic devices. There is also a bar and a restaurant up here, with its own seating section. I’ve never eaten there, I’m never hungry enough for a full meal, and to be frankly honest, it's harder to watch people when you’re shovelling food down your gullet! 

After my picnic, I headed down a long passageway that takes you on a slightly darkened route under most of the 28 platforms to the other side of the station. Now, Yaesu is all funky and modern, the other side, Marunouchi, is the side with the hotel, classic architecture, history and the wide open square.  I plonked myself under a tree and simply enjoyed the sights of people going about their business. 

A station of two sides.... one modern and functional, and one historic and dreamy.

Sun continued to shine down, the temperature was up to 27 degrees, although with the tall buildings and the very soft wind, the ground temperature was much higher, at least in the high 30s!  Thusly, I was content to spend a little more time under the tree, sitting on a concrete seat wall, wondering where all the people were going, who they were going to see, what joy their journey would culminate in and so on.     

One of the many entrances to the station

So many sights to see, so many people, so many lives intersecting, albeit briefly at one location at one time. Oddly, I saw more Western folk today than I’ve ever seen in Japan; most appeared slightly bemused as well, and I have no idea why. I smiled at all of them, and none smiled back; perhaps they were doing the Japanese thing, or perhaps they didn't like a smiling Brit to spoil their excursion in the land of the rising sun. I also spotted four or so school groups during my time sitting in the shade, all of which had group photos taken with the central Imperial entrance in the background.  There were some couples walking hand in hand across the big square, which I don’t think was romantic, for there was no doubt, with the sun shining down, those palms would be sweaty within seconds! There were a group of OAPs waiting for a bus tour to depart from just outside the very luxurious hotel. I was concerned that if they had to wait too long, they’d melt, but before you can recite the eight times table, four times the bus arrived, and the sweltering seniors stumbled on. There were quite a few businessmen, or salarymen as the Japanese call them, hurrying here and there, wearing dark suits with shiny shoes and expressions of bland indifference. There was a photographer with a big, expensive camera, which reminded me of the 80s Japanese tourist stereotype, with some amusement. Then there were three skinny youths with tattoos talking excessively loudly, lighting up cigarettes despite the non-smoking signs. But, they didn’t stay long after a camera was pointed in their direction and red flashing lights appeared along the roadway, not even long enough to finish their smokes, which they just threw to the ground and hurried off.

After a while, I’m not at all sure how long, I decided it was time to get up and walk the three and a half kilometres back to the apartment. I retraced almost the same route, and before I got back to my abode, I paused for a pink grapefruit beverage, which I consumed down at the side of the Sumida River. It was a day of doing very little, of relaxing and enjoying the gentleness of the busy city, yes, a day you could say, I was busy doing nothing and nothing the whole day long.

The beauty of the poppy is timeless.   On the Sumida River Terrace.

Copyright © 2026 Seafront Media

Flowers along the riverside circles in my mind......

The Skytree points like a needle to the heavens above.....

Along the side of the river, on the man-made concrete banks at various points are raised flower beds, populated with brightly coloured flowers or big bushes and mini trees. The names of which escape me, for I am not a green-fingered man or at all knowledgeable about such horticultural things. However, despite not knowing their names, they are all a pleasing sight for the eyes to feast upon. They instil a sense of calm and near tranquillity upon one. I say near tranquillity, after all, we are still in a city of many millions, and the daily activities of the populous hum ever present in the background. These flowerbeds are complemented by various bricks, tiles, or paving slabs along the walkways, some raised, some not, some rough, some smooth. It is a little nod to the aesthetic that you often see replicated through the city, which helps ensure its charm envelopes you. 

The flowerbeds are a delight for the eyes and the mind

Only in Tokyo do spaceships float!

Thus far, my favourite pastime in quiet moments, whilst living on the banks of the Sumida River, is to walk along these banks and let my eyes wander and dance over the rippling river to the flowers and greenery. The various tall buildings beyond the flood containing walls vie for attention with the passing marine traffic, mostly made up of sightseeing boats and restaurant launches, some of those so futuristic looking you could be forgiven for thinking that aliens have landed. Occasionally, I'll see a working boat, a barge or tug, then even more fleetingly, one of the emergency services boats zooms past. 

There is beauty with every step!

Sometimes my mind ponders on the beauty of each flower or bush as I stroll past, other times I'll marvel at the architecture of the myriad of buildings that rise skyward. Of course, as a boat travels up or down the river, my thoughts are cajjouled in that direction. I wonder where it is going, who the captain is, what it costs, how many passengers are looking out at me upon the banks and other such practical matters. I have also let my mind wander into the lives of the other people I pass on these walkways, the way one often does when people watching from a pavement table at a cafe, or so. I don't know if I'm alone in that, but when I'm in a city, I can't stop my brain from wondering about the secret lives of the people I pass, either on the street or down here by the river. Are they married?  Are they single? Are they having a secret affair with the person on the next floor up in their apartment building? Are they working, and if so, what is the occupation? Are all questions that dart across my mind at lightning speed, which I'll never know the answers to, although I do occasionally make up!  

A sea of dasies and not a chain in sight!

Of course, being down here, walking slowly on, not exactly aimless, yet with no particular destination in mind, I can often find my head on loftier things. I've pondered emotions, the difficulty of finding a place to call 'home', of wondering what one's point is and various 'heavyweight' subjects like that. Yes, down here on the riverbank, you can often think of higher things, mentally pontificate on the meaning of life, or lack thereof, of god and her presence or not, of peace and war. But mostly, I like the wind upon my face and my mind flittering over subjects as rapidly as the sun shimmers over the ripples of the waves on the river. 

Traditionally modern!

Why am I here and what am I doing? Well, I wish I could give you a concrete and secure answer that would satisfy you and me alike, but I can't!  I suppose, I'm here because I've reached the age where I should settle down, grow old, and well, not to put too finer point on it - die! I'm mid-fifties, it's time to stop this aimless existence and stop in the place I feel most at home. Except, I don't know where 'home' actually is; I've not felt completely at 'home' in any place I've lived for the last twenty or so years. So, I guess right now, I'm just trying on Tokyo for size. I loved it as a tourist, so now, staying longer and seeing if the magic and shine of the big vibrant city wears off with time, and the grind gets me down. Or whether the delight of being one in 14 or so million shines like the brightest star in the sky. 

Sometimes even where your feet walk is a thing of beauty.

 

Dreams and desires

The wonder of lines

The joys these plants bring will be fleeting, yet their memory will linger for years to come!

Copyright © 2026 Seafront Media

The lonely stranger in a foreign land….

The lonely stranger in a foreign land….

If you’re lonely before you come here, your loneliness will greatly increase once you are in this strange land where little is the same. There is an old expression, presented perfectly by Harry Chapin, “You can travel ten thousand miles and still stay where you are”.  I feel you can’t expect travel or relocation to ease all your woes,  solve all your problems, heal your broken heart or fill whatever void exists in your life. Your past is YOUR past, and will forever be so; it travels with you, despite any desire you may hold to leave it back where you left it. 

Once you learn or realise travel and relocation isn’t the panacea for all that’s wrong in your life, the better you’ll be. I don’t guarantee much, but I’ll guarantee that! Equally, if you’re lonely, Japan and especially Tokyo is probably not the place for you to spend too long in.  It is hard to explain, but for me, I feel like Tokyo is made up of 14 million individual people living 14 million individual lives! There is a certain independent expectation that exists here that I’ve not noticed in any other city. For example, if you go out to eat, the vast majority of restaurants and eating places just assume you are dining alone, and there is no drama and definitely no stigma if you are. Fresh ready meals from supermarkets or convenience stores are proportioned for either families or singles, and nothing in between.  

I’m not sure if Tokyo is an outlier or more typical of Japan as a whole, but the overwhelming majority of 20 to 29-year-olds are not married (79.4% of men and 65.3% of women). Around 35% of Japanese men in their 30s have no spouse or partner. The percentage drops by just 5% for guys in their 40s and only about 7% for those chaps in their 50s. Based on projections from the 2020 census, there are between 4.5 and 4.7 million singles in Tokyo today, and by 2030, that number could be up to between 5 and 5.2 million. 

So if you’re lonely at home, before you come to Japan, I think the chances of that loneliness following you here are, to say the very least, damn likely to be sure. But if you are like me, single and not necessarily lonely, you might just find this is an ideal city for you to visit. There is no faux concern when you eat alone in a restaurant, nor do you get approached by a woman, inviting you to join her and her family to eat, because they ‘felt sorry’ for you sitting all by your lonesome. Indeed, many restaurants have only ‘single person’ booths, stalls or tables. There isn’t an expectation for you to be in a couple, have a ‘significant other’ or be otherwise entangled. It’s refreshing, at least it is for me, to get a meal for one and not have accusatory or sympathetic eyes boring holes into the back of your head, nor do you get the quizzical questions about how come you’re single at such a mature age!

Copyright © 2026 Seafront Media

Waseda - Keio Regatta

I was out on my balcony today, enjoying a leisurely mug of green tea and feeling the wind ruffle my hair, or what little I have left, when some sort of noise and commotion caught my attention from down below on the river. At first, I couldn't see what it was, then my eyes focused, and there, near the other bank, beyond the bridge, I spotted about eight or nine fellows in a rowing boat. Not only that, coming along the river was another rowing boat with a similar number of people rowing it.  Plus, there were a few other boats of various sizes, something was evidently going on and something a little more than the usual marine activity. 

It was a rowing race, I suppose it is similar to the annual University Boat Race between Oxford and Cambridge, held on the River Thames in dear ol' London town. However, here in Tokyo, its a series of races, including two really long ones that kicked off just across the river from me.  (Is kick off the right exprersson for the starting of a boat race?  I'm not sure!)

This is the annual Saikei Regatta, between Waseda and Keio universities, which has been running for 95 years, which is, needless to say, rather a long time! Although, it is a mere baby when compared to the London one, which saw its 171st one take place on 4th April this year.  

Some of the races took place upstream and were between 500 and 1000 metres in lenght, however the two that started near me had these rowers battle it out for 3,750 metres, which is about 2.3 miles or thereabouts. I know I couldn't row that far, at least not as fast as they were going, it might take me about three hours to complete the same distance they did in under 11 minutes!

I wonder how fast you could spiddle your macons or cleavers in a tidal river? 

© 2026 Seafront Media

Soothing Sunday and Saturday shopping.

Sunday greeted my eyes with the early morning sunlight filtering through the net curtains that hang at the floor-to-ceiling windows of my rented apartment. It was, according to a blurry grab of my mobile phone from the small bedside table, a little after 5:30. I’m not usually up at this time of the morning; however,  I’ve still not quite got used to being in a completely different time zone. It could be said that, for the first time ever in my life, the lag of jet travel was deeply affecting me.  I’ve been tired in the daytime and waking up late in the evening, just as the world says sleepy time should be upon you.

I yawned as I stumbled out of bed, opened the curtains before gravity had its pressing effect on the bladder of a fifty-plus-year-old, and I scurried as fast as my fat little legs could carry me to the bathroom. A few minutes later, I emerged, relieved and busied myself with making a cup of coffee while I tried to drive the pain in my right foot out of my mind. It is, apparently, quite common for sufferers of Plantar fasciitis to have difficulty in starting to walk, and for me, first thing in the morning is the worst. Well, that’s not quite true, it is equally bad after I’ve rested a wee while after doing a lot of walking and then getting up, and yesterday I did oodles and oodles of walking.

Twenty-three thousand, seven hundred and eighty-nine steps I had completed yesterday, Saturday, as I’d walked to the popular shopping area of Ginza for some retail therapy. That amount of steps, judging by my height and step length, is a wee bit over eight miles, and that, my little cherubs, is a bloody long way. Yes, I experienced some pain yesterday, plus there were a few moments when I had to stop and either sit down or just lean against a wall and lift my foot off the ground for a short while. However, let it stop me from heading to Chou Dori in the Chou Ward of Tokyo, it did not.

I’ve just paused to unload the washing machine and place clean garments on two clothes racks,  one now on the balcony, the other in the bathroom, under the clothes drying fan, such are the boons of modern life!

Yesterday, I was up at a similar time and after a leisurely shower and ablutions, I headed out on an ambling walk in the right direction of that enclave of shopping delectation. I should have waited,  I should have fixed myself a decent breakfast, for time was on my side. I didn’t know, nor did anyone warn me, that Tokyoites are not early risers and thus, it is unusual to retail establishments, other than those of grocery or convenience kind, to be open before 10:30 or more likely 11:00 on weekends. Therefore, I had almost an hour to kill before the stores opened, and money, I could spend.  Thus, little old Jason explored the local area, going up backstreets and down alleyways, savouring the sights and sounds and digging the general atmosphere of the place.

Of course, I now know I could have gone down to a store called Don Quijote, affectionately known as Donki, which opens its door at the shockingly early time of seven ante meridiem. But, I didn’t know that at the time, and to be honest, you really do need to mentally prepare yourself for a visit to the haven of bargains, narrow aisles and crushing tourists that is your average Donki. 

One of the more globally well-known Japanese clothing brands must surely be Uniqlo, yes, it’s from Japan and not some European nation like many believe! I do like the store, its clothes and the whole vibe of the place, but perhaps it is a little young for me. However, I do rather prefer its slightly cheaper and more encompassing subsidiary GU. For me, the conventionally stylish and unadorned by big brand branding, garments that GU offer are, right up my street, as it were. Thus, at just gone 12:30, I was emerging from the said flagship store with a large big brown paper bag containing a pair of shorts, a hoodie, two caps, two jersey-type shirts and six t-shirts. A smile upon my face, not least because I hadn’t packed t-shirts and needed lighter clothes more practical for the local climatic conditions, but also for the 10% tax reduction I received for being a visitor to this beautiful country. 

Oddly, the walk homeward seemed somewhat shorter, and I was rather pleased with myself for making it all the way to Ginza and back without needing Google Maps to aid direction. Although after I dropped off my GU goodies, I tootled round to the local supermarket for supplies, including bogrolls and bananas. Two crucial things for an international traveller, I’m sure you’ll agree, although I did get some more things, like bread, rice, and other such delights for dinner. 

I turned left and then left again out of my apartment building this Sunday morning and strolled like an old fart along the banks of the river. My leisurely ambling took me just down to Sumidagawa-Ohashi Bridge, which carried me across the river before I made my way back home on the opposite bank. It was rather peaceful, despite being a Mecca for joggers of all ages and courting couples from the younger generation, all making the most of the oasis of calm. At various points along the riverside, there are beds of either wild or cultivated flowers, which combine with sections of shrubs and bushes to add to the beauty of the waterway. If you ever come to Tokyo, I suggest you take a walk down this way, it's an ideal way to relax and enjoy a peaceful part of the city. 

I’ll have to go now, the wind is picking up and I’ll have to retrieve the washing from the balcony before it blows away and someone crossing the Shin-Ohashi Bridge gets a face full of my undercrackers!

Copyright © 2026 Seafront Media