Galleries and sunshine

Another couple of sunny and cold days for us in Tokyo. The last few days have sent us exploring in Hiroo, Omotesando and Ginza. As Kent's weekends are often from Monday-Wednesday here, we generally make those our family fun days and pick an area of Tokyo that looks halfway interesting and go for an adventure – also known as 'Boken' in  Japanese (or, simply 'adventure' with a Japanese accent. There's a lot of adoption of English words here!).

Like my last post, I've snagged a few of Kent's images, so things are a little out of order.

Another example of simple, beautiful entrance-ways in this city.

Visiting Hiroo, which ended up being a little bit boring. Sure, the Bokun MAY have revolved around visiting this chip-specialist shop, so we probably should have expected to be disappointed. It's one of the few things that aren't done better in Japan! This photo is a total farce too – Viv was being a little ass-hat, but it was a nice window view. I'm still angry at him for eating the single pickle that came with our fries. 

Just another incredible sight in the heart of Hiroo.

Our plan for family shopping in Omotesando yesterday was cut short by a very poorly little boy who had to be taken home for some rest. We managed to get ourselves to a über cool coffee shop (one of the owners is half of Daft Punk) and then to the organic restaurant for lunch, which was highly stressful due to it being incredibly busy and watching the face of my child like a hawk, who looked like he was almost certainly going to vomit everywhere. Happily for me, he did not vomit, and it only takes one parent to administer panadol, so I spent the afternoon walking into bustling Shibuya (and promptly scurrying out again as quickly as my preggo hips could carry me) while Kent took one for the team. It is possible that most of Kent's grant money has gone toward my weight in washi tape (beautiful japanese patterned paper adhesive tape for the uninitiated – you can buy it in Australia for about 3 times the price and a tenth of the variety) so can spend the rest of the trip rolling around on the futon tossing my mini rolls of tape in the air with glee. 

Fortunately for Kent's grant, the chances of me accidentally going on a shopping spree are slim, due to the fact that I am starting to resemble a very adorable baby hippo.

You know how upmarket and trendy some of the cafes are when they visibly balk at the sight of your approach with a toddler in a stroller. I don't care that their coffee was $6.50 – it was worth it just to look at their stunning wallpaper. 

Sad little sleepy child. 

It's hard to believe that this is the back streets of very upmarket Omotesando.

A very dull image only used to highlight yet again the amazing binary nature of Japanese culture – this shabby little grocery store was next door to Vivienne Westwood, where I had only moments before been lovingly caressing $1000 pants. Again, it's probably a good thing I'm pregnant. I don't have much self control here. 

A revisit to one of our favourite stores in Omotesando, with the customary portrait at the end of your visit. My attempt at jauntily covering my belly with my shopping went really well don't you think? I am hoarding yet another collection of beautiful ceramic work along with my sack of washi tape.

Most nights I wrangle together a weird concoction of basic vegetable soup/stew and stir fried veg in our irritating little kitchen. So last night it was a great treat to venture out to a highly recommended okonomiyaki restaurant, only to discover it was closed. Feeling exhilarated by my afternoon to myself, we boldly tried this place instead – we could see right inside, it was empty, looked warm and comfortable and I couldn't see any fishtanks (usually a sign of what's for dinner). The menu was entirely in Japanese. After google translating hamburger variety #5 (cheeseburger with bacon, yes that would be amazing), the owner shuffled up with some English menus. Boom. Mum, dad, I'm sorry to rub it in your face, but these burgers were INCREDIBLE. Despite being the only customers, it was a one man show and a bit of a wait – but whenever I glanced over at the chef, he was working with the utmost care idiosyncratic to the Japanese culture: a careful sprinkling here, gentle stirring there, small drizzle over here. 

About halfway through our meal, he approached us with a little bag of rolls, and gestured to outside – he'd run out of bread and needed to nip out for some more. So the three of us were left to enjoy our meals, alone in his restaurant.  

Pretty much our only hint at what was for dinner last night ...

The softest, sweetest milk bread you can imagine. Pickles all to myself. The pizza in the back ground that Viv didn't touch – FOOL. It was the most elaborate margarita I've ever had, and delicious. We demolished the salad before I could take a picture. 

Obligatory out the front shot. 

Feeling perkier today.

Today's venture was all about Ginza. The poshest area of Tokyo (as far as I know), with a lot of galleries and the most insane toyshop in Japan. I know I said that about the last one, but this one also is quite mental. Viv did amazingly well in such a crazy place. Despite being allowed to pick a toy to take home, I don't think he quite understood what that meant, so we left empty handed – probably not a bad thing – but not before he'd picked up several plush toys, kissed them and stated 'I love you penguin.' Or 'I love you cat.' I am a little disappointed that he showed little interest in their incredible selection of the weirdest plush sea creatures I've ever seen, but hey, we've still got a few weeks.

The rest of the day was spent gallery hopping – a few images below of some of the shows we saw. I missed the first one shown while trying to coax some sushi into Viv, but it was amazing to see some art at last!  

Amazing pencil drawings by Kohei Sekigawa at Guardian Garden. I was sorry to miss this one, but even seeing the poster out the front was lovely.

We're trying not to get overexcited by the CHERRY BLOSSOMS BLOOMING IN FUCKING JANUARY. But we are – it's exciting and special and reminds us that the sun is out even when we're freezing our buttocks off. 

Tomohiro Kano and Yoshiki Kojiro.

We all loved this show. We only discovered tonight that this exhibition was in fact two glass artists (yes, it's all glass!). It was on the 7th floor of an unassuming office building, in a pretty dingy space, with staff members to match. However it was fantastic seeing a show with Viv where he understood that 'Only dad is allowed to go near the artwork, you need to be strapped in the stroller.' It was an excellent excuse for me to sit on the floor with him and chat about the show, which he was very vocal about. 

'This one is like a swirly slide. Yes. I should like have a turn on it.'

'Um. I think you're too big.'

'Oh. Why?'

'Because you're a boy and that is about a foot tall. ... So what do you think of that one?'

'It's like a Binjobbie.'

'... A Binjobbie. Hey Kent, Viv says that one's a Binjobbie.'

'No! It's a Bluebinjadgee!' 

Another highlight of this show was catching Kent smell one of the sculptures. When I asked him if he was smelling it he replied, 'Yeah. I thought it had a smell.' I didn't have the heart to tell him that I had just farted and walked away. 

On our way back down in the universe's tiniest elevator.

Another sample of tiny spaces between large ones.

Because I'm immature like that. 

Back on Kappabashi street near 'home' – I still can't get my head around the insane level of utensils in this street. For example I have spent the last 12 months looking for a half size cake pan, so I can make mini cakes that aren't quite muffins/cupcake size. It turns out I can have every single size you could possibly dream of here. How many cake tins can one fit in a suitcase though? (At this stage, just quietly, already four. And I still have about 3 weeks to go, and I walk down this street every damn day.) 

Because nothing says 'I love you' more than a plastic display of KFC and what looks like a gigantic plate of sick. We're talking about a 50cm diameter here.

More cherry blossoms outside someone's home.

You may remember me gushing about Omotesando Koffee from our last trip – a truly sublime experience in the back of an old house in the streets of Omotesando, with a tiny Japanese courtyard and a single bench to sit on, if you were lucky. Sadly, that venture has now closed, and popped up HERE of all places, as Toronamon Koffee, in, you guessed it, Toronamon. Or more specifically, Toronamon Hills. Another Mori tower in the middle of the city. Empty, vast open spaces, security barriers, mirrors, lifts, tiles. Clinical and sterile and also oddly enjoyable. 

The branding is still the same, the coffee still delicious. The vibe is dead, but the novelty is still high as instead of a 'custard square', which they were so well known for, they had several varieties of teeny tiny cakes (including the custard square). But how could I go past the 'Financier's Cube'? I'm NOT EVEN JOKING. That's what it was called.

Little dude is stoked to be able to get up and down by himself now. 

Just a businessman hanging out. This park was actually really cool – it used to be an elementary school. It also had little pommel-horse benches with bars to do your lunch break gymnastics and such.

Another great show at the Ginza Graphic Gallery by Masayoshi Nakajo. The top floor was his series about 'Mothers and Others' and downstairs was 'Imbibing and Vomiting.' – all terms I could get on board with.

Masayoshi's Nakajo on the basement level. Amazing set up. Some more commentary from Viv:

'What does this one look like Viv?'
'It's like a steamies!'
'And this one?'
'It's like a, like a SHAPE.' 

Totally knackered, back in our local haunt February Cafe for hot chocolates before one last playground and a supermarket run. The toast is bloody addictive here – milky-sweet and devastating to your digestive system. I'm trying to avoid it as much as possible, because it is like a bag of potato chips – as soon as it's in your mouth it's gone and you feel terribly sad and want eleven more. I do miss proper sourdough, but am also enjoying my attitude of 'OH WELL, when in Rome!' (I am eating buttered white toast as I write this. Don't forget the days are long and I CAN'T DRINK.) That's Kent holding his jug of sugar syrup for the toast. Which he promptly put in his hot chocolate. 

After my last noodle slop disaster, I'm determined to not have sad dinners, though you know you're in trouble when even Kent won't eat the noodles. Given the space/ingredient constrictions, it's almost easier to make a series of little dishes. Or in the case of some of the dishes above, buy them already made, thank you Japanese supermarket! Many cooked meat options are available like tempura, katsu and yakitori at the local supermarkets, and I feel it would be idiotic to not take advantage. The quality is generally very good and turnover high, so you know you're getting (relatively) fresh stuff. 

And now for some sleep in preparation to take the little dude to the Zoo tomorrow. Stay tuned.

xox
Lj.