First Day in Tokyo (Part 2) Shibuya

I have no idea what I was doing with my camera here, but it resulted in a cool picture of the artwork on the exterior wall of Shibuya station

 If you have ever seen online footage of a sprawling urban intersection suddenly being flooded and engulfed by a sea of Asian people, it was probably filmed outside Shibuya station in Tokyo.  A commercial center glowing in neon lights and buzzing with activity, this area is the Japanese equivalent of New York's Times Square. Here, one can spend all of their money on a plethora of luxuries, ranging from the hippest high-priced fashion, swanky bars and restaurants, and colorfully lit arcades and pachinko parlors. Matt and I decided to check it out, hoping for the quintessential Tokyo experience.

Madness

Gojira!

Incredible

A memorial of Japan's most faithful dog. It used to meet its owner at this spot everyday. The old man died, but the dog continued to wait at the spot for years

 At any rate, we made it to Shibuya no problem and walked out of the station to a truly impressive sight.  The station is right by the famed intersection I mentioned earlier, so this humming, buzzing mass of pedestrians was our welcome party. These pictures and my descriptions really do not do the experience justice. The best way I can describe it is that it felt like being at a concert, except with no music and the crowd making small migrations every time the traffic light changed.  We made our way to the catty corner of the station, seeing many bright blinking lights coming from the alley there. I could not help bumping into my fellow pedestrians and stepping on the backs of their shoes, as I could not pull my eyes away from the sights around me and look where I was going. There was so much going on everywhere I looked.

After making it across the sea of people and passing through the festive archway leading into the exciting alley complex of the entertainment area, Matt and I decided unanimously that we were absolutely famished. Trekking around Tokyo under the merciless sun for the day had finally taken its toll on us, and we needed a quiet place to hunker down and refuel. Fortunately, there are many such places in this area. We found a great little ramen shop with a diner style wrap-around bar.  You wait in line outside, put your money into a vending machine, and buy a ticket for each item you would like to purchase. After obtaining your food tickets, you are free to enter the restaurant and take a seat. I gave the ticket for my ramen to the woman behind the counter and just sat there, glad to have a chance to be idle.  The ramen was served in a few short minutes, and I could not have been more grateful for it.

The ramen bowl was huge, full of meat, noodles and vegetables, and had a thick layer of oil and grease floating on top of the broth. It was absolutely delicious. The only thing remaining in the bowl, after I was finished with it, was the bit of broth I couldn't ladle out with my spoon.  Then it was time to move on. The place was busy and it would have been pretty rude to sit there for the extra hour that I probably needed. Unwilling and unready to head back into the chaos, I hoisted my bag and camera onto my shoulder with a sigh and shuffled out the sliding doors in Matt's wake.

But it was then that I realized how much I needed to stay in the peaceful(ish) ramen shop. I looked up at the dazzling array of blinking lights and bright advertisements, only to see a blurred mix of colors that made no sense to me. I suddenly became aware of all of the noise around me, and the volume began to swell.  I could hear every footstep, street hawker, arcade siren, every single voice in the chatter around me.  I began to feel dizzy, a slow panic began rising in my stomach. It was too much. I told Matt to stop. I had to stop.

Construction workers taking a lean. Even in Japan, construction workers lounge about for the majority of their shift. Just kidding, I probably walked by on the one five minute break these guys took all night

In a few minutes I was right as rain, however, not without a new respect for the power of over-stimulation. I began to question how one could live in such an environment on a regular basis. I felt like I was in a circus.

Shibuya bus terminal

More bus terminal

 We decided to take it down a notch and hit up a nearby arcade for some simple minded entertainment.  I failed miserably at many attempts to win stuffed animals and anime figurines that I'd hoped would be souvenirs for my friends back home. (Sorry guys.) After seeing my 100 yen coins disappear one after another, in vain, into the game machines, a kindly game clerk came by and opened the glass case of the machine I was playing, asking which toy character I was trying to get. Feeling kind of silly, but also too humbled to worry about it, I laughed and pointed to the male version of the little cartoon character inside. She obliged, placing the toy on the absolute edge of the bottom of the pile.  Two turns later, I had managed to get the damn toy. Perhaps I just felt a bit more relieved about it than elated, but I couldn't help but feel a little cheated considering that the game clerk hadn't come to my aid when I was playing one of the games with cooler
prizes.

The train station

Day or night, Shibuya is buzzing

 We decided to head out and wander the streets for a while. The sun had finally retired from its day of making Tokyo a living hell and nightfall had come with a cool breeze. The rest of the night was spent meandering around the busy areas we could find, searching for good night photography opportunities. I took a few shots of the lights and the people, as well as a few shots of the famous Shibuya bus terminal.  Finally, being to tired to even want to find more adventure, we decided to head back to the trains and begin the trip to Omiya, home sweet home for another week or so.

This map is at least 5 feet tall