Something to Declare

First Days in Tokyo, May 6-7, 2026

May 8, 2026, 4:30 am Japan Standard Time (JST). Well-established circadian rhythms tend to prevail, don’t they? After a flight of over 14 hours, with less than 4 hours’ sleep, we conked out early last night. But we woke up at 3 am. We fought the jet lag, and the jet lag won.

So I write this as we wait for breakfast to be available, in about two hours. As the sun rises (off to the left) in the Land of the Rising Sun, here is the view from our hotel, including the rail lines:

The flight to Japan was without a hitch, and we arrived safely at the Marunouchi Hotel in Tokyo. Plenty of time to settle in (and even take a brief nap) before meeting Andrew (our tour leader) and the other 11 tour group members in the lobby.

Among other things, Andrew explained the complexities of Japanese shoe-removal etiquette:You’re not supposed to allow the soles of your shoes to touch the entry step, nor the soles of your socks to touch the outer pavement. This means stepping right out your shoes to mount the step; and when your’e leaving, you’re supposed to step directly into your shoes on the pavement below. (Not sure about my ability to do that, so there’ll be the risk of committing a social offense!)

Andy took us on a brief walking tour of the immediate neighborhood, including (clockwise below): a view of the Oozo (“Oasis”) Building in which our hotel is housed; the local train station; and a view of the city that Andrew said was characteristic of Tokyo:

Andrew wanted us to see many of the local eating establishments, which were very diverse (e.g., they’re supposed to make really good Italian food here), and which went by in something of a blur.

We decided on a place in the Oozo Building, which was a stand-up sushi restaurant (at least we didn’t have to remove our shoes). Yes, you stand at the counter and fill out the numbers of your selections on small white sheets. You hand the sheets to the chef behind the counter. The chef then arrays the sheets, and prepares the pieces of nigiri (a piece of fish atop a small palmful of rice, with a fingertip of wasabi) one at a time, placing them on the banana leaves that are set before the customer (below, lower right). This sometimes involves the use of a blowtorch (below, lower left).

The chefs try to serve everyone at the same time, making several pieces of a particular type of fish, and placing them on the banana leaves of all diners who ordered that style of negiri (above, upper right). He then checks them off on the respective diners’ order sheets, and goes and gets another type of fish, and so on. So your dinner can be served in a gradual, piecemeal manner.

We ordered what we knew, salmon (sake), tuna (maguro), scallop (hotate), salmon roe (ikura), etc. Next time, if we’re sufficiently brave, we’ll risk trying the less known, more obscure types of fish that don’t usually appear on the menus of Japanese restaurants in the U.S. To whet your appetite, here are some names: Blackthroat Seaperch (nodoguro); Knife Jaw/Striped
Beakfish (ishi-dai); Thornyhead (kinki); Needlefish (sayori); Beltfish/Hairtail (tachiuo). Can’t wait (ulp!).

But now, breakfast beckons!