After chit chat on the Yamanote Line 山手線 we exited at Hamamatsuchō Station 浜松町駅 and took a ten minute stroll to the commanding red gate of San'en-zan Zōjō-ji 三縁山増上寺.
Crossing via the north side of the temple, tiny faces of Jizō 地蔵 statues hid in the shadows of the Unborn Children Garden; Tokyo Tower 東京タワー stood beyond sakura 桜 on the bend.
Down Nonbei Yokochō のんべい横丁, a customer, perhaps a salaryman サラリーマン, contemplates a bar.
Departing the quiet lane, we dissolved back into the noise and then the now-familiar flow of Shibuya Station 渋谷駅, bound for Hamamatsuchō 浜松町 and Tokyo Tower 東京タワー.
Through the back streets of Shibuya 渋谷 where I'd been that afternoon, but now at night a different vibe. Looking from one end of Nonbei Yokochō のんべい横丁, which loosely translates to Drunkard's Alley, the hush belies the proximity to the scramble. Tiny bars, just a few seats each, and second floor stairs of impossible incline.
Despite walking all day, the evening promised at least a few kilometres more. At Hachikō ハチ公 I met up with a local guide, two guys from Malaysia and a family group of four from the UK for a night walking tour. The first stop was a dinner of yakitori 焼き鳥 in the cosy second floor bar of りある (“Real”) where we got to know each other before starting into the cooling evening air.
Closer, watching workers walk the scaffold on the sloping face of a building.
The next few hours were spent roaming the streets of Shibuya 渋谷. Tunnels packed with bicycles and barely space to walk. Vending machines tucked in nooks of otherwise vacant alleys. Occasional groups of neatly stacked crates of garbage or cardboard boxes. But, most unexpectedly, repeat instances of graffiti that proclaimed, as if to remind, “TOKYO IS YOURS”.
Further lost in the rooftop detail, tiny cities of equipment like a robotic Fira.
Shades of white on white and that distinctive feature of sheared buildings. Smooth tiles against diffuse concrete and grit.