"Scottish-fold-style sitting contest, for cats."

"The worlds best pizza and ice-cream since 1983."

Many Izakayas transform into simple restaurants serving regular inexpensive meals during the day, especially during lunch time on weekdays. Though I had noticed that about this place, I had only so far been there during lunch time, so nothing stopped me from walking in at 9 PM hoping to get myself some Soba/Tempura.

This can be awkward on many levels: dress-code is never explicit in such places, but one still stand outs out wearing a T-shirt and jeans, when everyone else is still in business attire after a hard day's work. The other thing is that Izakayas are not just about drinking, but the group ritual of drinking together. I was the only person there by myself, and only because it would have been too rude to walk out right after walking in.

Still, it had been a while since I'd been to one; mostly because of the relatively low profile I have been keeping at least where the social life around work is concerned. Izakaya food, which is basically healthy, small-plate dishes usually meant to accompany drinks, is very innovative and one requires a certain amount of knowledge to be able to order properly, so I had to sort of wing it.

That awkwardness behind me, everything was simply delicious, not surprisingly the Tempura no Moriawase. I accidentally ordered the Wafu-Shumai, which was rather amazing too. Not a mistake that I am regretting too much at this point.

Bikkle, in retro-looking glass bottles. The Japanese (Katakana) text under the logo reads 'Bifidus'

Having discovered that there's a 100-yen vending machine nearby that sells it, it's been a constant rate of two bottles a day. It also seems that I'm not the only Gaijin who is a big fan of this drink: I could list a few people, but maybe I'll simply hope that Google leads other Bikkle lovers to this page.

There are two things that I remember most clearly about those early days - one was that it was cold. I flew in straight from Chennai, India, a city known for it's winter-less, almost year-round hot-wet climate. It turns out that mid-February is the coldest time in Tokyo. The other thing was this sense of realization, this feeling of the gravity of the situation I'd put myself into; this big, yet ignored, "WHAT HAVE I DONE!" ringing loud in my subconsciousness.

I'd traded in a well-paying job, a life of comfort and familiarity, in the name of adventure. Not that there is anything remotely adventurous really, about spending your days in long meetings, not understanding a word being said around you, and having to work insane hours everyday. But in the beginning, all that was different. It really was an adventure, as anyone who decides to hit the ground running will attest to.

Every time I felt cold enough or hungry enough to ask myself why on earth I was roughing it out like the way I was, the only answer was that I did not want to let myself get further ensconced in the familiarity of the same old streets I'd known for a quarter of a century. Now put it like that, and you convince yourself that that's enough contempt bred to warrant an escape - And I had life so good back then in Chennai, in a way that one simply cannot appreciate, out of utter boredom.

But an adventure it was; in all the good senses of the word. I loved Japanese food, (and still do. Who doesn't?) revelled in observing the needless automation around me, the over-engineering, the attention to detail, the sheer number of things to see. One gets bored, or course, but my eyes were biased to technology, to details, constantly imagining how all those servo motors and hydraulics keep themselves hidden. I would write these massive, long emails about everything I was seeing and doing in Tokyo, cheesy writings that I am probably ashamed of right now, in the way that people who've lived in Japan for a few years mock newly-arrived, suitably bewildered Gaijins. I haven't written any of these mails now, ever since, in the fear that they might get discovered and laughed at.

And, as is typical of Tokyo, the snow looks nice and pretty for probably less than an hour or two, before it gets all dirty and slushy.