Every time we come to Japan, we have to make a stop by Tokyo Tower. The iconic landmark is where our very first adventure in Japan began.
We always visit Shiba Koen and enjoy a peaceful walk among the shrines in the shadow of Tokyo Tower. It’s a quiet park in the middle of a busy city, with a couple of shrines and some open green space.
If nothing else, we find it to be an impressive juxtaposition between the old gods and the new ones.
Our first time here, the smell of crepes permeated the air. We wanted to get some but knew we’d be having dinner shortly. Little did we know we’d be passing out from exhaustion during dinner anyway.
Our second time here, we smelled the crepes again, but we still didn’t stop for any.
This time, we vowed to get some goddamn crepes. It only took 3 years, but we finally had the opportunity to eat some. It was freezing cold and our crepes were full of ice cream, so hooray for intelligent decision making. I think mine was a cheesecake crepe and hers was blueberry cheesecake.
It was hard not to notice a commotion coming from behind the tower. From what we could gather, a local high school was holding a pep rally of sorts in the rear parking lot. We sat and watched while finishing off our crepes.
These days we always spring for the upgraded tickets that take you to the upper observation deck. Unfortunately this time there was some construction scaffolding which impeded the view out of one of the windows, but it wasn’t a dealbreaker.
In the upper observation deck, we enjoyed a quiet observation of Tokyo at night together. At least, that was until the “kids” showed up.
It started with a persistent squeak. Squeak. Squeak. We moved to the other side of the observation deck to get away from the noise.
Squeak. Squeak. Squeak.
We moved away again. It was obvious we weren’t the only ones who were bothered by the noise. Squeak. Squeak. The other visitors kept looking around.
At this point we saw that some tourists (or English teachers?) who were old enough to know better had taken it upon themselves to follow us around, squeaking a pig toy at us. They must have thought it was amusing. And since they couldn’t get the hint that we didn’t feel the same…
The next time they stuck the pig around the partition next to us, my wife grabbed it to snatch it away. Unfortunately the hand holding it was firm, which brought her face-to-face with the 20-something behind it.
She ended the harassment with one word and the icy glare of a Lich Queen.
They scurried off back to their hostel, peace returned to the tower, and everybody on the deck got to enjoy the view for the rest of the evening until the tower closed.