Spending the night drinking in Aoyama and dancing in Shibuya until morning with Deny and friends, 6 hours after landing in Narita.
Yoshida-san at Albatross, casually wishing me a welcome back, asking how I’m doing, as if it had not been two years since the last time I sat there ordering a drink.
Soon-to-be-official-geisha Hako-chan, demonstrating her shamisen skills at a tiny Shibuya izakaia, before going on a drunken quest for some old Pink Floyd albums at nearby Tower records.
Sheer serendipity and Saeko’s MBA program being located 6 floors down from my lab in the same Jimbocho building.
Drinking our asses off with Yi, Jun & co., enjoying Kaikan Hotel’s Beer Garden‘s “All you can drink” formula until the very last minute (and the last dozen hastily ordered pints).
Tokyo clubbing. Receiving a freshly removed pair of lacy underwear adorned with the wearer’s phone number. Having never asked for it in the first place.
Beers and Jim‘s crazy tales from the wild streets of Kabukicho. Finishing with the most palate-scorchingly spicy nepalese curry I have ever tasted (prematurely murdered tastebuds haven’t quite recovered since).
Birthday bash, party favours and AI talks at Tracey‘s.
Sangria with K-chan, seating at a waterside café, watching blinking city lights and Chuo train sparks reflecting in the canal’s water.
Sunny BBQ on the grass and cool crowd at Martine’s.
Devilish Miss Sin, trying to pick up young and impressionable J-boy off the last train to Shibuya (said boy failed to join us after unsuccessfully requesting permission from bona fide girlfriend over the phone).
Drinks before first train at Shibuya’s one and only indie punk rock bar, reminiscing weird and troubled times with a cool mum of two.
The cute uniformed girl working the controls of the tiny Setagaya-sen train, inexplicably forcing the doors open manually to let my desperately out-of-breath gaijin’s ass get on, long after the signal has gone off.
Riding on Atsushi’s trusty old scooter through half of Tokyo to some outdoor party on the Tamagawa river.
Ka-chan, 80 year-old Japanese hippie with tiny piercing eyes, a perpetual smile and an unexpectedly sharp mind. He remembers the Haight in the 60’s, surfed the acid wave all the way, until it broke and rolled-back.
Plus already too many things to mention…
Keep’ em coming…