Having slept as contortionists in a three-sizes-too-small clear plastic box, Nancy and I stepped dazed and confused from our night bus into the rush hour hum of Shinjuku Station. Quickly, for a sizable pile of vomit rested in the far corner and a man conducting a perm stood next to me, I washed and brushed in a subway bathroom. After Nancy had had her turn, we headed underground for a taste of rush hour, the madness of the JR men stuffing an estimated two million daily commuters into train cars coming one-two-three always ever after. For thirty minutes we watched streams of people navigate rivers of diesel and steel and afterward decided we were happy it wasn't us jammed that way by the JR men.

From Shinjuku it was but a short travel by moving walkway to the relative calm of Nishi-Shinjuku's skyscraper district, where we elevated to the 45th floor of Kenzo Tange's Tokyo Metropolitan Government Building. Although the view from 248 meters was impressive, I much preferred that of Metropolitan Square, styled, it would seem, on the Roman Coliseum. With office workers rushing to and fro, we took a moment to wander the sculptured esplanade and admire the concrete and aluminium mega-structure that disappeared at the cloud line.

Our mini-tour finished, we left for the airport where we greeted Nancy's parents. They were happy to arrive, if not tired from nearly 24 hours in transport. We checked into our hotel and walked to a nearby izakaya for some grub: sushi, udon, yakitori, yakimeishi and others. Chopsticks in hand, each dish was greeted with a quizzical, "What's this?" almost always followed by, "Mmm, its pretty good." After dinner was bed, a solid nights sleep and dreams of Ueno.