“I promise they do the best traditional Japanese sweetsdown here.”
It was enough to convince me to follow her anywhere. My sweet tooth often overpowered everything else.
She did make me trapse through every clothing store within the vicinity and any establishment that sold souvenirs from old Japan. We got some freshly baked rice crackers and a handful ofNingyo-yaki.
“You will regret it until the day you die if you don’t try these,” Beth assured me whilst shoving a small doll-shaped baked cake into my mouth. She was right, as always; they were delicious.
The area was beautiful and historic. It had a friendliness about it; everyone wanted to share their culture and created an atmosphere that made me want to stay and spend my money—which I did, in heaps.
“Do you like this?” Beth presented me with a traditional golden kimono. The lady who ran the store advised Beth that they were all handwoven and of the highest quality. Beth, like me, was a sucker for agood pitch.
“It’s really nice.” I reached out and ran the silk through my fingers. “Good quality too.” I had no idea what a bad quality kimono would look like, if it was even real silk, or handmade, but it would suit Beth; that muchI did know.
“I might get it.” She grabbed another from the rack, but the black version. “Shall we get matching?”
“Erm...”
“We’ll take these two please.” At least I think that’s what she said. She said it in fluent Japanese, and the lady looked stunned, as most locals did when they realised Beth wasn’t the predictable tourist.
I guess I’m wearing a kimono tonight.
We arrived in Shibuya next. It wasn’t the first time I’d visited the famous Shibuya Crossing. With thousands of pedestrians crossing at once it’s known for being one of the most iconic sights in Tokyo. I ticked it off my bucket list on my first trip to Japan. I’d seen it in numerous films, most notablyThe Fast and the Furious: Tokyo Drift. It was surprisingly one of my favourites in the franchise despite not includingPaul or Vin.
Experiencing the Shibuya Crossing on the ground didn’t give thefull effect.
“Shall we head for a coffee?”Beth asked.
“Yes,absolutely.”
We found seats inside the Starbucks located in the Tsutaya bookstore. It was a beautiful upscale space with the perfect aerial view of the crossing. We ate a quick midmorning snack before heading out. According to Beth, it was imperative we miss the noonlunch rush.
“Have I ever taken you to Tokyu Hands?” She asked.
“I don’t think so.”
“Oh no, I have done you a disservice. Let’s go.”
I had to stretch my legs to their full stride to keep up with Beth and her elongated pins. She dragged me towards a vertical green sign that scaled the side of a huge white building. The poster in the entrance window stated that Tokyu Hands was the place for the creative DIY enthusiast. The store was essentially a mixture of B&Q, Home Bargains, Boots, and The Range, all under one roof.
“This store changed my life. You will find things here you never knew you needed, life changing things.”
Beth picked up a box with a label I couldn’t read, but it had a picture of sometoast on it.
“This is a ceramic toast steamer. I bought one a few months ago. It keeps the inside of your toast soft whist the outside gets crispy. Can you believe that?”
“Yes, I can believe that. It seems people will invent anything these days.” The product resembled a small brown loaf of bread, or a brick, it was upfor debate.
“I’ll make you some toast tomorrow; you will eatyour words.”
She stuck out her tongue and ran towards the next fixture. If my mum’s brain exploded, it would create this place. She was obsessed with anything quirky, gadgets, and craft items. She was semi-retired and spent the majority of her days doing paint by numbers or cross stitch.
I walked past an aisle purely dedicated to sticky notes. Yes, sticky notes! It was the most colourful ten metres I’d ever seen; I had to get the ones shaped like stilettos for Paula. I picked up a rubber keyboard cleaner in the shape of a duck and a green plastic plug that supposedly extends the life of lettuce and cabbage. These were things I had no use for, but the look of them intrigued me. I bought some erasers shaped like mochi, some glow sticks (not entirely sure why), and some paper soap—which is just genius. It was soap in the form of paper. It was pocket sized, so it could be carried around in my bag for all the times public restrooms ran out of soap. Genius.
Tokyu Hands was comprised of eight floors and contained every tool, gadget, toy, and random object you could ever find. I came out with a bag full of crap I didn’t need, I’d convinced myself I did, and five thousand stepson my watch.
Do you know how long it takes to get around a place like that? Two hours! That’s how long we spent in one store.
It was every Instagrammers dream.
