Tea time of the living dead

Its 5.16pm... apparently. At this point you could tell me the four horsemen of the apocalpyse are coming over for a chat about drapes and I'd believe you. I landed into Narita through thick low fog, very symbolic considering the jet lag fug of thirteen hours of trashy films and rubberised food. I have yet to decide if I'm really here, sat in Robin's toilet cubicle sized room listening to slightly camp music in the sleep making (as if thats necessary) low light of his 'mood lighting' drape hung over the ceiling lamp. Probably a fire hazard. Come to think of it, I do smell a slightly toasty smell... but that could be an onset of a brain tumour as a result of about 17 coffees in a bid to remain awake. Robin has taken me on a little tour of Ebisu and the surrounding area in the grey drizzle of Japanese october on the back of his 50cc scooter. This is totally illegal. Robin casually tells me that he has never had a run in with the authorities regarding minor moped related traffic infractions...this suggests he's had others of different natures.

Within five minutes we have had to outrun the fuzz (who was on a bicycle), and having stopped for noodles costing all of 500yen, found ourselves outisde Keio university. Before we had a chance to meet up with Elliot and Henry, who are on a tight schedule because they are trying out for modelling jobs at the new Abercrombie shop in Ginza, we have another confrontation with the law. I imagine its probably quite an amusing site for a security guard to see two western lads, one of which is barely hanging off the back of a black hairdryer powered Honda, creaming past him up the hill towards the back entrance of the university. He didn't see the funny side. In fact he was, as only a Japanese security guard can be, politely really pissed off. Robin called him a racist and told me to bail out of the situation. So I walked off (helmet still on head) down the road trying not to look western, guilty or jetlagged. Shigeko Lewis, my student advisor/ liason at Yokohama Uni, told me that if I were to stay in Tokyo before coming down her way that I should stay out of trouble. I've been here 5 hours.

Its surreal, being used to certain people in certain settings, to sit in a cafe surrounded by japanese bijiness (read business) men, with Elliot, Henry and Robin (who finally decided to drive away from his spot of bother with johnny law and join us) on the other side of the planet. I have a date with the rest of the Japanese crew from edinburgh this evening, but I think by the time it gets to eight o'clock I may have to crawl there. Even though I am viewing this city through the head fog of twenty four hours of sleep deprivation, consequently feeling like an extra from resident evil walking past neon vending machines and little old ladies sweeping their front porches, it is just so cool. Fashionsta youths with winkle picker shoes and chain smoking salary men. 15 different types of iced coffee from 15 different vending machines all glowing in a row next to a wooden shrine with rain dampened prayers tied in paper knot bunting. Now I need to work out a way of sleeping in Robin's room tonight without waking up in a comrpomising position