dre.

I’m on a JR East train sounds kick.

Here are some interesting finds:

The Yamanote line sound map. A visual representation of each stop’s recording.

Train sound keychains for the nostalgic.

It’s not very obvious in the photo, but those mussels are about the same length as my forearm.

Yokohama is like the Bonifacio Global City of Japan… new and clean. I’m just sayin’.

Spotted: in a Yokohama department store (the Landmark) — they go for four times the Cebu price over there.

Soy sauce flavor, everyone.
Everyone was wondering why I didn’t taste it — one look at the price tag should tell you why. Not worth the risk!

We were at a chome (intersection) in Ginza blatantly looking like clueless tourists, trying to familiarize our way to Tsukiji fish market for the famed fish auction, when a lone Japanese lady asks if she can help us. She pulls out her own street atlas (that amazed me) and tries to explain the way but her limited English didn’t really get the message through. After our sincere thank-yous she trucks on across the street to her destination.
As I will never forget that I’m an alien in a foreign land, I’m just grateful for that human connection. Tokyo is perfect breeding ground for those “existential vertigo” / “lost in translation” moments, the feeling of just tinily drifting along in a metropolitan ocean of people who are busy swimming to the tune of their own little agendas and plans.
When someone reaches out, it’s like a lifebuoy bobbing up against the sensation of being not lost, but rather — being displaced? disconnected? invisible?
Nevertheless, I’ve been there six days and have encountered a melange of personalities. Somber old grandpa-types all stern in their trenchcoats while waiting for the train. Drunken fools who in the early morning forget that they have no saliva as they spit on you for no reason in the street, and then totter wearily across the intersection. Disciplinarian takoyaki makers, transients who have a sixth sense for struggling tourists. Harajuku girls, modern-day Japanese Audrey Hepburns dressed top to toe in labels. 7-11 cashiers who remember to not plastic-bag your purchases. Those are the faces.

Apparently Japan is lens heaven. This picture was taken in Ginza, but Akihabara has Electric Town, so for all shutterbuggers out there, you know where to go.

It’s pretty (lonely).
Takao station, waiting for a train to Otsuki.

So, Mt. Fuji is deceptively hard to photograph (I speak as an amateur, of course.) The winding train made this holy mountain peek out from whichever direction, obscured by electric lines and smaller mountain ridges. We also didn’t make it to the fourth / fifth station. It seems we have the habit of preferring lunch to more in-depth jaunts.

This would’ve been so gorgeous in the fall (violent reds and oranges would fill this bleakness), or in the spring (apparently this is an ideal spot for cherry-blossom viewing.)