Why the rabbit?

Answers on a postcard.

Today was Asakusa. Said to retain some of the character of old Tokyo, but on the whole the trip was a disappointing one. The weather was hotter than ever today, which made what was to come somewhat more painful. You see, apart from the famous Asakusa Kannon, or Sensoji ("sensou" is another way of reading the kanji for "asakusa"; "ji" is a suffix meaning "temple"), the 29th Annual Samba Festival was taking place. OK, take the number of tourists, both Japanese and foreign, at a famous landmark on a weekend. Multiply (do not add; multiply) by the number of tourists visiting a famous annual event. In the exceptional heat. But I'll get to the samba part later.

Sensouji was built after a pair of brothers randomly fished a statue of the bodhisattva Kannon, sort-of-goddess of compassion (Chinese: Kwan Yin, Original Indian: Avalokiteshvara and male) out of the river. This was pronounced a miracle, and after a number of iterations (read: charitable donations followed by constructions followed by fires followed by reconstructions) it is the premier temple to Kannon in Japan. There were quite a few tourists, but the temple grounds themselves weren't too crowded. The way to them, though...

The Kaminari Mon, or "thunder gate" near Asakusa Station. Note Raijin and Fuujin, deities of lightning and wind, guarding it within alcoves on either side.

Beyond the reconstructed (like everything else) but very impressive gate lay another famous landmark, the road from the gate to the temple named Nakamise-Dori or Tourist Trap. I wonder if it really is just coincidence that Nakamise-Dori is a homophone for "street in the middle of shops", because that's exactly what it is. A very long avenue lined with shops aimed at tourists and selling an impressive variety of goods on either side.

The apparently infinite length of Nakamise-Dori is a famous optical effect wherein the fabric of space-time is warped by an extreme concentration of souvenirs, rather like a monetary black hole. Light can escape its pull, but will probably be charged an exit fee.

Maybe I'm just being bitter after a dissatisfying day. Nakamise-Dori, like so much else here, is a testament to the Japanese commitment to meeting customers' desires, and most people don't feel the same contempt for trinkets and purely decorative objects as I do. At any rate, having miraculously made it through without buying a single thing, the crowded Sensoji was quite impressive. Looking at the English-language map and information booklet, though, I can't tell how much of the place was off-limits and how much I didn't get to see simply because Michiko and Yuya set a fairly fast in-and-out pace.

This beautiful five-level pagoda is used to store temple records, and is sadly off-limits to visitors. Additionally, its special shape magically blurs any photography attempted in its direction (which is why Michiko remains unseen today).

The main building of Sensoji itself is...in there somewhere. It's been that sort of day.

The smoke from the cauldron in the middle of Sensoji's court is said to have healing properties, and visitors rub it into whatever part of their body they want healed.

When we left Sensoji, it was just about time for the Samba festival to begin, in the form of a parade through the streets. Roped-off main road, police shouting instructions through loudhailers (but in a very polite and helpful way, I note without sarcasm), incredible crowding and the physical impossibility of seeing anything whatsoever through the layers of people in front of us. Oh, and the sweltering heat. A couple of people collapsed. Only one got up again. We only saw a bit of the parade, and that was when we gave up and waited for the police to let us cross the road back towards the Kaminari Mon. To be fair, it was very pretty, though since when have French aristocratic attire (with wigs), or Heian-era court official costumes (if that is what they were; I can find no better reference point) been part of samba? Taking photos, of course, was impossible given the crowds.

After lunch at a nice soba place, we walked around the area near Sensoji, and guess what it contained? Shopping, shopping and more shopping. Also shopping. Yeah. If this is a fair representation of old-style Tokyo, then I don't think the Japanese can complain about the loss of traditional culture caused by increasing Western influences. Oxford, the city I know best and a great tourism site in its own right, probably doesn't have as many shops across its entirety as the area around Sensoji temple does.

This man, a seller of delicious sweet dumplings stuffed with green "grass" (or so I was told) sports a portable Edo-style stand and a portable Edo-style haircut.

According to Michiko, this shop, which sells a vast variety of brushes (the cleaning kind, not the calligraphy kind) is another famous local landmark. There's really nothing I can say to that.

It did feature these, though. Believe it or not, they are also brushes.

The one location that got my interest was a second-hand kimono store. Since kimonos go from "expensive" to "exorbitantly expensive", certainly the beautiful ones, seeing some in a 500 Yen (about 3 pounds) basket was quite something. Unfortunately, we soon found out why. Every article was in some way soiled, and I am told kimonos and obi are not to be washed. So an apology to all the beautiful women out there who would otherwise have received a souvenir kimono.

Finally, irony of ironies, we bumped into the members of the samba parade as we wandered around. They were ever so pretty, and their minimal clothing must have been perfect for this sweltering heat (I did notice a number of the original parade participants struggling to smile as their blood began to boil in their veins). Michiko took a photo of Yuya and me with one of the ladies, but sadly does not appear to have pressed the button.

The male members of the group were relatively restrained in their clothing. How they survived the heat like that, while dancing, we shall never know.

The women were the real highlight, of course. I admire their confidence in spending the whole day as the focus of countless tourists' attention in outfits often more revealing than this.

We went back home after the last of many shopping arcades. Nothing much to report there, although I saw some decent Engrish. "There are English-speaking staffs inside!" was good for the irony value (and no, it wasn't a martial arts store; ignoring ninja souvenirs, I have yet to see one of those).

Overall, I grow increasingly keen to go out on my own and make whatever mistakes need to be made to become an independent traveller, without anyone holding my hands. Part of my dissatisfaction with today stems from feeling that I could have seen a lot more of what I wanted to if my hosts hadn't taken charge of our movements, and if I could freely browse or wander off without worrying that I was making them wait. Tomorrow, if all goes to plan, will be my first solo trip - to Harajuku to see the Sunday gathering of cosplayers, then other nearby areas like Ikebukuro and Shinjuku depending on how much time I have. But I must find a suitably polite way to refuse the Urushibaras's offers to accompany me on their free days - their company is pleasant but I am not missing out on "local knowledge" much (though within half an hour of train journey, none of the Urushibaras have ever actually lived or worked in Tokyo), and I will miss the purpose of this trip if I spend it feeling frustrated at being led by the hand. Incidentally, I have been told that soon "we" will be going to Yokohama's Chinatown, and I wonder if there is any way to query this - while it is Japan's largest, and a landmark in its own right, my time is limited and I really didn't come here for Chinese culture. The more I read of my travel guide, the more I realise how much more there is to see than I have time for as it is.

Other notes? I asked Michiko about her life (partly because I wanted to know why someone would become a housewife - it is such an alien concept for me). Apparently, she worked as a faculty assistant in a university chemistry department until 27, when she married Yukio in an arranged marriage thanks to a dating agency. She moved in with him at his home in Ookurayama, and gave up her job because it would have been impossible to commute. Instead, she helped out with his cake-making business until ill health forced him to close the shop. Now, he is a self-employed landlord and she is a housewife who has a minor part-time job (4 hours a week in an office, I think) and spends some of her spare time learning English and pursuing cultural activites.

And now you know as much about the rabbit as I do.