The flight was long and smooth, but more tiring than usual. I think I'm fighting off something, and waves of nausea and deflating fatigue not explainable by your average jetlag overtake the enthusiasm at times. It's difficult to rest when there's so much stuff I want to do.

We're in an apartment in Meguro-ku—what could be a rather nice apartment on the top floor of a building. This was a recommendation by one of Andrew's friends. It will work out OK, but the proprietorship is a sketchy, flaky affair that is more trouble than it's worth. It's nice to have the ability to cook, but other than that, the apartment offers fewer amenities than an average business hotel or budget traveler ryokan. The place is dirty, by Japanese standards, and thus reminds me of Korean places. We found hairs and dander in the bedding and, of course, all corners not under constant use have not been cleaned in who-knows-how-long. These things don't wig me out that much, but I don't like feeling like we got ripped off. On top of that, the permanant residents of the building have decided that they don't like having a rental in their midst, and they have posted a sign in English in the elevator that says that this place is a residence and should not be used as a hotel. I dislike that shaming guests is on the indirect route to shaming the owner, and it makes for awkward coming and going from the building. Our contact for the rental was this resident gaijin who we were told was flaky but who would come through. He did come through, but half-assedly. He failed to meet us at the station, for example; instead he called the owner (who is Japanese) to meet us. The owner is nice enough, but the hand-off was strange and a bit dubious. Anyway, it's just more complexity than there should be.

A side note: Stacks of packing tape sit on a shelf near the kitchen, and packing tape is used throughout the apartment to hold molding to the walls, plastic coverings on chairs, etc. It's really remarkable and weird. We wonder who did this—was it the owner or visitors?

Yesterday we explored the neighborhood and worked to become acclimated. I'm delighted to find that my Japanese works and that I can both understand things people say and say things to people if I need to. Communicating is still rough, though.

I'm shocked at the number of foreign people walking around Shibuya. I saw more in our little jaunt around the neighborhood last night than I would see in months of walking around Seoul. I know that Shibuya is one of the hottest tourist destinations in Tokyo, but it's still surprising to see so many foreigners.

The weather is exquisite: mild and summer bright. You need sunglasses during the day, and at night, strolling in the lighted canyons is the long awaited cool after a hot day.

We wandered through Tokyu Hands and marveled at all the things that together make a store that is useful to people and that somehow make our stores seem unuseful. We got coffee at Starbucks as an easy way to quell headaches, and we ate dinner at Denny's because Andrew has a fondness for Denny's and it is fun to show him the freakshow of American chain restaurants in Asia.