Shinjuku

View of Shinjuku

"Did you see the Tokyo tower?" my friend Reiko asked. "You can see it from the bathroom."


"No," I admitted, a little embarrassed. "I was too busy admiring the toilets."

Sorry to lower the tone but I have to talk about toilets - because if I had my way, the UK would be flooded by Japanese lavatories. Okay, maybe that is the wrong choice of words but I know what I mean.

Anyone who knows me may also know that each time I return from Japan I spend at least two or three weeks mourning for the loss of the Japanese loo seat. So it is about time I explained. Not all but most of Japanese toilets come complete with a control panel at the side with buttons for heating the toilet seat, bidet, general wash or constant flushing sound. The heated toilet seat means that you get a hot bot when you sit down which, at first, can be almost as shocking as a cold loo seat, but is actually rather comfortable. The wash and bidet facilities are obvious, and the constant flushing sound is to mask any embarrassing noises you might be making. Instructions are usually in Japanese, but the pictures on the buttons are self-explanatory - it is very hard to not understand what a bottom being splashed with water means. But the ladies' loos in the Hotel Century Southern Tower in Shinjuku went one better in the cubicles with an extra finishing touch of pink ribbons adorning the spare toilet rolls. I was so impressed that even when I visited the ladies' second time round with the sole aim of sneakily taking a photo, I still forgot to admire the Tokyo tower out of the window.

Typical Japanese lavatory control panel

Best-dressed loo rolls. Well they do say the first bite is with the eye...

Shinjuku is a bustling shopping area in what might pass for central Tokyo. When people aren't buying clothes or lifestyle artifacts, they're drinking coffee or queuing up to buy Krispy Kreme do(ugh)nuts. The Shinjuku branch of that particular purveyor of the sweet stuff was the first ever in Japan and, according to my friends, people would queue for up to two hours before reaching the counter. Now the novelty has worn off the queue only looks about half an hour long.

Mum and I were in Shinjuku to meet Reiko, a friend of mine who has kindly shown me around the city in the past. She had booked Tribeks restaurant on the 19th floor of the Hotel Century Southern Tower because it commands fabulous views of the city. But it was after I privately nearly suffered a mild heart attack at the prices (one orange juice was Y1,000 - about seven pounds fifty pence in these days of the pathetic pound) that we ordered from a set menu; a goats cheese and mushroom cake to start, soup, roast lamb and dessert.

The descriptions on the menu were good and we awaited our food with anticipation. And soon our first course arrived, a delicious, white, savoury mousse atop.......erm..... what looked like a 3cm long crouton.

Okay, so whereas in America your plate will be piled up for a few dollars, Japan is known for tiny, expensive portions. Even so, I was a little surprised. I think we had all been expecting a bit more than a crouton, and I was wondering how it could have been described as a 'cake'. But nobody said a word as we tucked into our croutons appreciatively. Mum, who was brought up to always leave a little for Mr Manners even left some of her mousse on the plate.

Of course I felt a right twit when the real starters arrived. The crouton, it seemed, had been an appetiser and probably also a test to see how used we were to eating in posh restaurants - to see whether we would use the right fork, which to eat a crouton is a bit difficult I can tell you.

I am embarrassed to admit that along with photographing the loo (well, I had to photograph the toilet rolls and a control panel to illustrate what I was talking about) I did also photograph most of the courses. But in my defence, this was again to illustrate what I am talking about and also, ever since I saw a Japanese businessman photographing the peanuts in the upper class lounge in Helsinki airport, I decided the Japanese might understand. So here, for your delectation, is my dessert for the evening.... a white chocolate brownie, pistachio nut and fruit cake....

But the sweetest thing was yet to come (after Reiko fought for the bill and probably took out a small mortgage to pay for all of us). As Mum and I headed back to the outer fringes of Tokyo we jumped on a train which we hoped was heading for Tachikawa. "Tachikawa?" I asked a young girl who looked like she probably didn't speak English. "Mmm. Maybe," she said, before leaping off the train, having a quick look and nodding at us before getting back on. A few stops later she attracted my attention and showed me a notebook. There, in immaculate handwriting, she had written "that other train will be faster". She pointed at a train that had just pulled in on the opposite platform. While she hadn't had the confidence to speak, she had taken the time to construct a sentence for us before ushering us onto the other train. So sweet. Who needs Krispy Kreme, eh?