We sampled our way around the floors,
trying foods known and unknown. 22 August Ginza. Perfect
melons. Shopping. A good meal.
We
woke late. After washing various garments and hanging them
out to dry, and a trip to the convenience store to buy some bread
and a copy of the Japan Times, we breakfasted. Stephen, Val
and I then set out for Tokyo.
We
disembarked from the subway at Ginza station and found it was
still drizzling. We made our way to the Matsukoshi
Department Store. Two young women in uniform who chorused
“Irrasshaimasu” in a curious nasal sing-song
voice greeted us at the door. Pairs of similar young women lurked
at the top of each escalator and welcomed us onto each new floor
in the same way, offering us maps of the store to ensure we had a
happy shopping experience.
I
used to work for a company that owned a chain of department
stores, including Selfridges in London, so I reckon I know
something about them. I was very impressed with Matsukoshi.
It was big, and there was a huge array of merchandise, well
displayed. The lighting and general ambience was
excellent, and the window displays were masterful.
The most impressive items were the two floors selling food. We watched one of the in-house patissières deftly icing a cake. Every few metres, a roving shop assistant would implore us to sample one of her goodies – and they
were
good! (Especially the chocolates!) We sampled our way around the floors,
trying foods known and unknown.
At
one stall, Val sampled some tiny fried fish – hardly more
than hatched, 
by the look of them. As
she did so, a spontaneous round of applause erupted from the 
assistants and fellow shoppers. The
Japanese seem amazed and very delighted when a westerner
appreciates Japanese speciality foods. On a number of
occasions, as noted elsewhere, we were warmly congratulated on
our ability to use chopsticks in restaurants.
We
noted some luxury items. Melons are highly regarded as
gifts, and the Japanese take gift-giving very seriously indeed.
There is a protocol to gift-giving. If someone gives you a
gift, (or perhaps he takes you to a restaurant for a meal) then a
gift of much lesser value is usually given with a
self-deprecatory remark like “just a little something”,
irrespective of its value. The wrapping of the gift may be
more significant than the gift itself. Indeed, it is
amazing how neatly Japanese shop assistants, even in the humblest
of shops, will wrap the item you bought. However, none of
this prepared me for the sight of a cantaloupe melon priced at
15000 Yen (then around £90, or $145).
While marvelling at this huge
price, a shop assistant asked (in English) whether I wished to
buy it. I said, “No. But why does it cost 15000
Yen, when there are other similar melons on sale at 1000
Yen?” She replied, without a trace of irony as far as
I could see, “Because the markings are perfect”.
There were some "conspicuous consumption" items for sale in the store. These clothes for dogs caught our eye. Coats, maybe. But a tank top????
We
left Matsukoshi, clutching bags containing cakes and biscuits.
This had put us in need of refreshment, and we made for the
coffee bar on the opposite corner. There we sat, watching
the well-heeled world go by. We then embarked on a shopping
expedition of our own. Incidentally, there is a Citibank
along the Ginza, where you can use a debit (e.g. Switch) or
credit card to draw cash from a machine. Few Japanese banks
offer that facility for foreign cards.
We
spent a happy couple of hours window shopping and another couple
of hours in a Toy Shop, where we purchased various presents for
children (of all ages) back home.
A
tour round a typical Japanese supermarket was also interesting.
I reckon I could recognise about 25% of the items on display
(often by its tentacles or other accoutrements).
In
the same block was a remarkable restaurant – the Farm Grill.
For 2500 Yen you can eat as
much as you like in two hours. And the food was a massive
range of things, from delicious crab claws, through steaks, to
chicken prepared in imaginative ways, as well as any number of
Japanese dishes. All the food was well prepared and very
tasty. In parallel with this, you can pay 1000 Yen for as
much as you can drink in the same two hours. And they have
a colossal array of every kind of drink imaginable. I will
not go further into details, but I fear I rather over-did the
“as much as you can drink” part of the meal.
After
leaving, we went on to the Sapporo Beer Hall, which had German
Oompah music playing, and indeed it was reminiscent of the beer
halls I had previously visited in Germany.
A lengthy journey
home left me rather tired, and, it must be admitted, emotional.
I do not think I have imbibed as much alcohol on any occasion
since my Rugby-playing days ended. And my constitution is
not as used to it as once it was. And I was probably
allergic to the crab claws. I was grateful to crawl onto my
futon and crash out.