So the next day we left the hotel ready to explore Japan properly and confident that our street wise, charm and useful three phrases would get us through every cultural barrier. Our confidence was crushed about thirty seconds later when we approached the metro and had absolutely no idea where we were going. 
Everything is in Japanese and the odd token English translation doesn’t do much to clarify the matter, especially when you’re seeing the map for the first time. We resorted to the centuries old tourist technique of “stop and look lost until somebody helps out” and luckily one kind lady did. This was going to be tougher than we thought.
The metro itself is really cool, people (a lot of which are wearing face masks) actually form orderly queues to get on, which deceives you into thinking they will be polite when the doors open. Unfortunately no, carnage ensues and it’s worse dog each dog than the jubilee line on a work day at 8 o clock in the morning. Priority seats are available but when we met up with Anna’s 8 and half month pregnant friend we realised these were decorative only, as no one ever stands for her in the tokyo metro.
Together we made our way to a local curry house to have brunch and recover from the morning’s mayhem. Nothing like a Japanese katsu curry to make you feel better.
