Furlong Fondled by Sadistic Security Search

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The youngest member (excuse the pun) of our party was subjected to rigorous molestation en route from Beijing to Tokyo today. Had the Chinese security dominatrix been any more thorough, the rubber gloves would have been deployed.

Another 5am start and even I'm becoming jaded.

Taxi-plane-train.

We're staying at a lovely, minimalist in a Japanese Ikea-like sense, "ryokan" (Japanese guest house). Our tiny triple room has simple mattresses placed directly on bamboo matted floorboards, cushions round the kettle (green tea bags of course), a paper panelled sliding screen window and a bathroom of Boeing-esque proportions (by which I mean mile high club, not jumbo sized). It's charismatic, spotless and peaceful; the same goes for the idyllically dozy suburb in which we're spending out 1st 2 Tokyo nights.

First impressions of Japan; civilised, dignified, quiet. We've just had a cracking feed of Onomokiyaki (posh omlettes cooked in front of you on hot plates), where my unfamiliarity with the Yen as currency caused me to tip 10 times more than I intended. I've thus been banished by furious Furlongs to update our criminally out of date blog.

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Photos

Ryokan
Add two Furlongs and a dash of Osmotherly, blend for 48 hours...

Okonomi-yaki
This picture discreetly cuts out the salivating Furlongs just out of shot, who at this juncture were licking their plates and banging their chopsticks on the table.