Contemplation.

Lost in Translation. 

Lost in Thought. 

(of sausages) 

Kitty litter.

We saw these guys out on their leads every day making a yen or two to buy their salmon sushi when we took the hotel shuttle to the metro. I love cats, and I am whining weekly about why I can't have one but between Nigel and the Jack Russell I can't seem to get the purr-mission.

Eat me.

The definition of a Sumo Wrestler - a big fat fella that loves his biscuits. 

The sumo of us.

Yep - game for anything we are.

Double dutch.

Bit of a process to buy the old metro tickets - getting the Engrish option on the do-it-yourself machine is a good move for a start but in the beginning we were duplicating each and every move to buy the 2 tickets we needed. Then I realised that there was a cunning little button thingy which showed a toilet graphic of 2 people and so being the super bold, uninhibited traveller that I am, I pressed it. Nigel was already trying to knock my paw off it - why do something untoward when we've already got a good system going, he was thinking. But the machine had now doubled the price and so all seemed in order ie charging us for two people. However as we waited with bated breath at the slot - only ONE ticket came out. "SEE" he wanted to shout - you've ruined it and now we've paid twice what we should have. In panic he enlisted the help of a reluctant metro official who tried to give us the money back but he was offering only the coinage for ONE ticket. Oh no no no - we weren't accepting this palm off. We both pantomimed needing 2 tickets and with a flash of his wrist, the official flicked the ticket and lo and behold, there'd been two there all along, but nicely stuck together to humiliate the foreigners on their holidays and give all the workers in the booths something hilarious to watch. Each and every time after that though, we thoroughly enjoyed the seemingly one ticket coming out, only to show each other - 'ta da' - "there's actually two here, you know Nige".

Argh so.

Assumo the position. 

Shoe dunnit.

Jimmy Choo's line of orthotics. 

One. Two.

After a swift half and 15 sakes we hit Karaoke Kan last night.. I did 'feelings' first - just for a laugh. I actually do fancy myself as the next Adele, because once in year 9 I got picked for the school choir AND then again as one of the chorus understudies, for a production of Joseph and his Technicolour Dreamcoat - no not the Andrew Lloyd Webber one - a much better one - the Comberton Village College Annual Christmas show version with proper costumes, not that cobweb clobber Sarah Brightman goes for. Anyway after my turn - old green eyes took the mike and when he started singing 'Fly me to the moon' for a minute I thought - eh that's not fair, this one has the actual Frank voice with it. Nooooo I really did honest to God think that. Because he sounded just like the proper, real one. In fact now that we've realised our prowess in this hitherto unrecognised area, the two of us are now considering staging our own production of - Nigel and his Technicolour Anorak in Pauatahanui.

Big Apple.

New York is right here in Japan. 

A small handful.

What would Doctor 90210 think of these?

Into the East

As if this lame disguise would fool anyone! Annie Lennox heading out to Karaoke.

Fuji.

Also known as a table cloth draped over some hills. 

Baaaaa.

The shoes purchased yesterday at Isetan - part shoe/part sheep. 

Potty.

ALL toilet seats here are heated, and I mean every toilet is, even crappy ones like at the airport and Starbucks. Plus there are inbuilt fountains for washing your bum and a little setting you can press that plays 'privacy sounds' which means hearing a continual flushing sound so that nobody can hear you poo. I am wondering if we could manhandle the one in the hotel into our suitcase but Nigel's put a lid on that one.

Tart.

Back to the Park Hyatt for dessert and Baileys - oh yes mochi mochi better. Mmmmmm these Bailey's are delishush and after a few too many, I had my way with the lift. But Nigella not overly amused.

Prawn Connery.

We had to don white bibs last night to tackle dinner. Nigel was all gung ho about the eel but he had to really grit his teeth to face this little sucker.

This is Isetan today.

Oh no THE SALES. I hate the frisking sales - I go weak at the knees whenever I hit foreign soil and I go past Zara and see the mannequins with the paper bags on their heads. I know this means, sharp elbows, queues for Africa and peach coloured tee shirt dresses with strange cut outs on every hanger. But this was the sale to end all sales. For a start the goods on offer were actually 'real things' things that you'd actually want to buy at normal prices and then on top of that they didn't cost as much AKA CHEAPER ie like a lot cheaper. I saw a pair of Maison Margiela sneakers that Abbey and I had coveted in Harold's - ON SALE. The downside though was the queues. Queues to try on. Queues to pay. Queues to get on the escalators. And even queues to get into the queues. There were a lot of face masks and polite bowing to deal with as well which slows everything down. I panicked and waited 40 minutes to pay for only 1 pair of shoes and then as I made my way out - I saw a dozen things I should have bought but by then Nigel was starting to feign an angina attack so I had to whisk him into Starbucks for a cuppa chino.

This is Isetan.

                                   

This is Isetan - one of Japan's trendiest department stores. 

Off the wagon.

After 10 days of abstinence - I've gone and blown it. But at least it was in Japan's first Starbucks.

Double D.

Just me and the girls.