Today I was determined to buy some bright red Wellington boots and so, armed with my vast lexicon of Japanese vocabulary, I headed into Shibuya. My confidence and resolution did not last very long, in fact it lasted about as long as it took me to have a very one sided and unsuccessful conversation with a sales clerk. Not knowing the vocabulary for wellingtons I asked if they had any ame no kutsu (shoes of the rain), and was subsequently pointed in the direction of waterproof trainers. I was at least marginally more successful in my quest for plain envelopes (naked paper houses), so the shopping trip wasn’t a complete write off.
This evening a group of us headed to a nearby Korean restaurant, where I pointed to a couple of things on the menu and hoped for the best. When I ended up with seafood, vegetables, and fried rice I was delighted. What I was not so delighted with was the fact that someone was stood right in front if ‘my’ locker at the Sento. My OCD got the better of me and I reached past the person to get to my locker, only to find that it was full of his personal belongings. Many apologies and much bowing later I think that I was forgiven. At any rate I was allowed to continue my bathing, wearing nothing but my personal shame.