On Saturday, we had high hopes to watch a live sumo match in Sumida by the Sumida River at a sumo stadium. But the best laid plans of J and man often go astray, and the match was actually at another stadium in another city. Defeated, much like a defeated sumo wrestler, we removed our loincloths and farted in the general direction of the stadium. A strong southward wind made our anger sting like gyōji gunbai sashichigae!
We stopped at a nearby park to recalculate our route for the day: walk down the river, back to Tsukiji Fish Market for sushi lunch, and into Hamarikyu Gardens.
Something about this bike parking by Ryogoku Station is not on the level.
Oil container and portals to dump it.
Pipes and tiles.
The park by the sumo stadium.
The view across the river.
Wheatley? I thought I killed you.
Super, but micro.
A garage too small.
An old building whose story and old man tried to tell us.
A rusty warning.
Barbie™ brand fence.
Why use two cones when 9 will do.
The locked door to hard-boiled wonderland.
The troll park.
It’s cranes all the way down.
Tools for a well-kept shrine.
Time for a Dutch swim.
A view of Tsukuda high rises.
A clump of boats.
Off limits dock.
One of the most delicious types of rice crackers is pre-broken for maximum soy flavor.
Flood monitoring pod with cormorant drying his wings on top.
White van and matching parking meter.
In Minato, along the water, we stumbled upon a quiet, unpaved pathway between old buildings and the flood wall. This space was overgrown with plants and guarded by a variety of stub-tailed alley cats. I could imagine getting totally lost from the city here, sitting in the sun and hoping a cat would come visit.
Window washer near the entrance to the secret pathway by the river.
Cat on a hot tin scooter.
A backyard garden along the secret path.
An empty swing.
Gleeking pelican fountain.
Happy whale enjoys to be ridden bareback.
A sunny view from the secret path.
A bench and vine.
For lunch, we waiting in a line for a random fish market sushi restaurant. The eel was long and the fish was smooth and fresh, but the overall experience was tainted by one chef coughing and another having a bloody cuticle. Not worth the wait, cost, or AIDS.
Afterward, we paid the entrance fee and walked through Hamarikyu Gardens. Opened as a public park in 1946, the grounds were built on the what used to be the villa of the Shogun Tokugawa family in the 17th century. The park was a little crowded for me, but there were still areas where the only life around was ravens, ducks, or cats.
An tree planted 300 years ago.
Netting over a dormant flower garden.
A view over the Shioiri Pond.
Aloof cat would rather lick his balls than get patted by me.
A duck hunting shack.
A shrine to the fallen ducks.
The garden moat.
Red arrow marks the spot.
Club No Name would be better named Club Out of Business.
A magnitude 5 earthquake shook the hotel as we rested on the bed, making our hard mattress feel like it was filled with water. I imagined the whole building collapsing into a pile of people and bricks, then getting smashed into by derailing JR trains.
For dinner we were too lazy to search for dinner beyond what we thought were more upscale rice balls from the basement shopping center. But these balls were loaded with white miniature shrimp that looked like maggots. Not very appetizing. Luckily, Kirin Black Beer from a vending machine washed away the taste.