Perfect Weekend

OK. Fine. No really, that's fine. I mean it, its perfectly OK. I appreciate that you were right and I was wrong. Yellow autumn leaves are cool. I'll admit it. I'm strong enough to acknowledge that you win and I lose.

I still uphold that red maples are the defining tree of autumn, but the yellow thingamies for which I have no name, are very special.

This past weekend (including today, cos its, like, a holiday) has been seriously entrenched in R&R. Matt and I have been working really hard lately with teaching, Japanese study (actually, that's a complete lie, neither of us have been motivated to study at all, but can you imagine how much energy it takes to feel guilty about it???) and "cleaning our room" (bah! another lie...) and I took it upon myself to plan a bit of a cruisy, outdoorsy weekend.

Saturday

After a substantial sleep-in, we had a most leisurely lunch at Ronion, an Italian restaurant overlooking the lake at Shakujii Koen. For a couple of little Aussie battlers longing for a piece of the motherland in Japan, Ronion is the closest we've come. It has an al-fresco porch, a second floor patio, and a labyrinth of rooms inside, like something straight out of the Dandenongs or Studley Park Boathouse. We tucked into the wine (no Saturday lunch is complete without it, I'm sorry) and watched the endless stream of joggers, fishermen and families strolling the park.

After lunch, we took a boat out onto the lake. After publicly maligning the omnipresent (yet hideous) swan-shaped boats, I had to have one of them. You know, to overcome my aesthetic phobia of hideous swan-shaped boats, not cos they looked kinda cool or anything. It was. Fun. But I tend to associate rowing (or in this case, paddling) boats to the centre of the lake with getting quietly sozzled on wine and "accidentally" clipping other people's boats. Sadly, this is not the norm in Japan. I discovered the brutal truth that I'm not really Japanese at all.

30 minutes later we were back on land. We explored the park (which was dripping with autumnal foliage, very pleased, me) and ended up in a small enclosed park where we unwittingly gatecrashed a party of around 50 people. As we scanned the party, we realised that something was not quite right. There was. something. amiss. It took us a few moments to realise that in addition to the 50 humans were about 40 odd rabbits. On leashes. With bright colourful jumpers to keep them from the cold. We had stumbled onto a Rabbit Convention. I'm not kidding.

We quizzed one of the owners about the rabbits and discovered that a couple of times a year, the unofficial rabbit lovers association congregate in this very park for the rabbits to fraternise. Not many of the rabbits were making new friends, however. The moment one rabbit saw another rabbit to his or her liking, the owner would give it a reassuring tug on the leash. Baaaaaaaaad rabbit.

The only rabbit not on a leash, was making up for his cohorts' lost opportunities and attempting to copulate frantically with everything in sight, like an E-ridden raver at Docklands.

The owner (in perfect English) then went on to educate us that rabbits in fact, did not like the leashes, and as they were quite resistant to cold, didn't even enjoy the little jumpers! No fucking kidding!

Shakujii Koen Photo Gallery

In the afternoon, we went to see Kyoko's father's exhibition in Roppongi. His works are amazing, such attention to detail and unique, but as they're so traditional and a serious specialty item, not many had been sold when we got there. It was good to see Kyoko again though, who looked ever so cute in her red kimono.

For dinner, a motley crew of friends got together with plans to go to Roppongi Hills. I'm sure the Hills is all very fancy and new and fashionable blah di blah blah, but it left me cold. Maybe we were in the wrong part. It just seemed like a monotone maze of polished wood and glass. Soulless. A bit like a Louis Vuitton handbag. And of course, all the restaurants had queues 30 deep, so Ingo came to the rescue with talk of Erawan, a Thai restaurant in another part of Roppongi. It was magnificent. As well as the food and wine being awesome, every table in the place was afforded with 180 degree views of Tokyo, with Tokyo Tower (not much chop in the daytime, but stunning at night) as the centrepiece.

Sunday

In keeping with the rather natsukashii mother-land feel of the weekend, we had a slap-up brunch at Fujimamas in Harajuku, which has possibly the best Eggs Benedict our miso-infested taste buds have ever jumped at (and that's a mighty call, coming from the brunch capital of the world - Melbourne if you didn't know). Truly sublime. And of course, no Sunday brunch is complete without a glass of wine. I'll thank you to keep your comments about alcoholics to yourselves, please.

Matt then went home to study (hang on! conscientiousness was not part of the weekend plan!) while I explored Yoyogi Park (can you believe I've never been?) and the Cosplay troupe on Harajuku bridge. In addition to the magical yellows and reds of the park (OK, it was Yoyogi Park that converted me to the Cult of Yellow), was non-stop entertainment, including practising cheerleaders, four young guys with Japanese parasols doing coordinated parasol.... stuff in time to "Bohemian Rhapsody", three rockabilly Danny Zukos prancing and playing air guitar, and a group of ten drummers, drumming.

One thing you could never fault the Japanese for - they are not remotely self-conscious about being publicly seen as utter dags.

Yoyogi Park and Harajuku Photo Gallery

Made a slap-up Mexican tortilla feast for tea and tucked into "The Ring", the U.S remake (which stars two antipodeans, but anyway...) which, in my humble opinion, was, erm.... better than the original. I love my Japanese horrors, but the U.S version of Ringu was a lot more cohesive. No scarier, though.

Monday

Hmmmm, today, today, what's in store for today? As Matt's still asleep and I'm finally alone with the computer, I'm envisaging sweet fanny adams. Although I did wake up to the news that our buddies Andrew and Kathleen got engaged! Hehe, another couple enter the ranks of official shackled bliss. Onya guys...