At the Century Hyatt in Shinjuku, Tokyo, they have attendants that vacuum the path outside the hotel, down to the roads (the driveway arcs across the junction at which the hotel sits). I was reminded of the Queen thinking the world smelt of fresh paint whenever I stayed in that hotel.

And then, if like me you wanted to avoid the sterility of a hotel environment, you'd head East, cut under Shinjuku train station (or around it, towards Kabukicho) and eat in a tiny little yakitori/sake shack, where the men stumbled outside and urinated against any and everything not moving. We called it Piss Alley for a reason.

Japan. Land of paradox. I love it.
(IHaveComeAmongThee__Twice Tissues on the left. Self-esteem on the right., Tue 6 Jul 2010, 1:02, Reply)