"Will I regret being here?"
I offer this question upfront as one you might need by the time you are half way through one blog post. I hope you laugh, but suspect a large range of other emotions are also on offer including panic, shock and anxiety that Japan may confine the whole of the Western world to a padded cell after hearing me photograph a toilet.
Hi, my name is Elizabeth. Welcome to my life.
(If the pictures below look weird, do a tiny resize to your browser window. Something untoward has happened to my set-up...)
“According to legend, the very origin of the Japanese race depended on the outcome of a sumo match.”
It was 5:25pm and I’d dashed from my seat to catch the bookstand in the Ryogoku Kokugaikan —Tokyo’s sumo stadium— to buy the ¥100 booklet on the history and rules of sumo. Since the tournament ended at 6pm, I’d arguably left this a little late.
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