The Road to Akihabara, Part 2
October 11th, 2006 by Hugh KennedyGreetings from Shinjuku, and the Park Hyatt Tokyo. Yes, it’s the Lost in Translation hotel, with the view of Mount Fuji from the gym on the 47th floor. Mike and I arrived last night, after nearly 24 hours of travel: 1 hour to airport, 2 hours waiting for flight, 6 hours to San Francisco, 2 hours of layover, 11 hours to Narita Airport (40 miles from downtown), 2 hours to Shinjuku, the district where the Park Hyatt is located.
Immediate impressions as we drove into town: it’s 7:30 PM and all the offices are filled with people. People are having meetings, standing at their desks, talking on the phone. That’s sometimes the reality at PJA, but certainly not every day. Most of the highways into town are elevated roads, and clogged with cars and especially 18-wheelers. Train is the way to go, though the taxi doors do open automatically.
Another immediate impression upon arriving, and a great automation coup: heated toilet seats. The concept is called a washlet, a bidet and toilet combined. It has a control panel on the side, and does everything but toilet train your offspring.
Hiro Mizoguchi and Hiroko Kojima, our hosts, met us at the hotel and took us to a wonderful dinner last night in the district (an eight-floor building, with a different restaurant on each floor). I tasted the first sake I really enjoyed, but we didn’t overdo it. Hiro and Hiroko are ideal hosts: charming, funny, and surprisingly conversant in English. Hiroko lived near Bellingham, Washington, for a year, and lives with her sister, a classical pianist, who goes to New York once a year for lessons. Hiro is trying to juggle Chinese, Japanese and English given his new business responsibilities.
The seminar is today. Mike and I are going to practice, then have some breakfast and meet Hiroko. It should be a very interesting day. The little bits of Japanese Mike and I can speak go over very well here, in part because it’s a tough language, in part because a few key phrases in any language grease the wheels of an ordinary day. My friend Michael, who runs an automotive publishing company, swears you can get by in any German city with “Excuse me?” and “How are you?” Here you’d have to add, “I’m sorry.” Top of the list.