Pheebz In Japan: 1.45am: Showering dead rat germs off my back

This post about last week is waaaay overdue, but I promise you that it's worth a read ;-)

At 1.45am on Saturday morning, I did not awake from a nightmare in which I had been coated with dead rat germs. Being slightly OCD about cleanliness - the sort that uses tissue paper to flush the chain and open toilet doors - a nightmare of that sort would have certainly been a nightmare worth sweating a few pints about. Sadly, however, dead rat germs were a very horrifying reality.

The setting: an Izakaya in Shinjuku for Ulrika's 20th birthday (she can now legally drink in Japan!). It was the same chain as we went to for Lucy's birthday - all dishes are 270yen and can be ordered by a rather fun touch screen that each table is equipped with.

Whilst the company was great and everyone was in good spirits, some dishes took over an hour to arrive. The result was that we had already ordered loads more food and were struggling to finish the plates. Also, mysterious items appeared that no-one claimed responsibility for. A bowl of tomatoes, a plate of frankfurters and burnt chips....oh wait, that was actually ordered by someone.

Now, I'd already been feeling slightly under the weather. Throat a little tender. But 4 hours in a crowded smoke-filled room and I was soon unable to talk and sat pathetically slumped in the corner. Still watching the drunk business sing and dance...and collapse provided ample amusement:

And the Swedes were having a good time:

Oh wait, one Swede was missing. He was too busy being cool with the ultra-cool person on the right:

The evening then took a turn for the worse. Not only was there substantial panic and confusion over the bill - I ended up paying 4,000yen for everyone else's drinks - but then our unexpected guest was discovered. Where we had been putting bare feet all evening. Here he/she/it is:

How did it make it out from under the table? Good question. I soon found out.

Random Swede who fortunately is NOT on the JSLP: *stroking my back* Hey. This hand touched the dead rat. *stroke, stroke, stroke*

Me: Haha, very funny. Stop that. Seriously though!

Random Swede: I'm being serious. I touched it. *Proceeds to waggle his fingers in my face*

I stopped short of punching him in the balls. But I kind of wish I hadn't been so controlled. I made my way as fast as I could to the toilet and began rubbing alcohol sanitiser over my back. And that's how I found myself at 1.45am, showering dead rat germs off my back.

Still mute, I went to bed optimistic about the return of my voice. It's a shame optimism is often mismatched with realism. And so the next day, for the sake of my voice, and most definitely my wallet as well, I passed at the opportunity to go to another izakjaya. Instead I hung out with the Swedes (NB: NOT random rat boy), watching films and making use of the wonderful entertainment resource AKA Youtube. Calle is now a proper Swede as he has finally seen Let The Right One In - a dark, vampire romance film that avoids all cheesy, crappy elements of both genres. I haven't seen the re-make yet - reviews say it's very faithful - but I recommend you all to see the original first. It's brilliant, poignant and atmospheric.

Anyway, enough gushing over that film. To my credit, I wasn't able to praise it enough at the time due to lack of voice. I also discovered that sarcasm is ineffectual when you sound like the love child of Alvin the Chipmunk and Kermit the Frog.

The next day, I dragged myself out of bed at 8am to go to a tea ceremony with my wonderful friend Rie. Although I allowed myself 25 minutes to find her once I arrived at Shinjuku, even this proved too little time to deal with the maze-like mass that constitutes the busiest station in Japan, and possible the world. Asking for directions when one cannot speak is also difficult. Who wants to help the croaky/squeaky gaijin who doesn't speak Japanese?! 40 minutes later we eventually found each other and discovered that we were in a similar state: her voice was better than mine, although that's not saying a lot.

We laughed and coughed our way to the tea ceremony. It was held in traditional, small, Japanese style rooms set in beautiful gardens. We all sat down and watched the ladies in kimonos bring in a special Japanese sweet. And then tea was served. You have to twist the bowl twice in one direction before you drink, wait until the most senior person has finished drinking before you finish your own and then wipe where you've drink from the bowl and twist it once again before finishing. Very intricate. Everything is precise and like art. Just like this amazing lunch I got given. It tasted as good as it looked. おいしかたです！

Afterwards, I went back home to rest and recover. However, I discovered some photos which show that once night fell, I ran wild across a play park with the others, who sat around drinking on benches like chavs. I whooped too loudly, swung too high on the swings and failed at being a spinning-cage-thing hooker: