Sakura (cherry blossom) viewing is serious business in Tokyo, especially on peak weekend. With trees at 90% capacity the hot spots in town are magnets for admirers who come from near and far. Weeks ago two dear friends arranged for a Friday walk about the Imperial Palace grounds, predictably among the top viewing spots in town. Little did we know that the weather would turn raw and wet, which thinned out the crowd considerably. Traffic wardens used loudspeakers urging us to keep to the left, even when we were the only pedestrians in sight.
No Japanese native would venture outdoors on an empty stomach, so we stopped for a bowl of fortifying ramen (Chinese noodle soup) at a popular shop in Kudanshita. (My respect for the dish has reached new heights since renting the classic film, Tampopo, about one woman's search to sell the perfect ramen.) How surprising to find a queue as late as 12:40, since noon is the preferred lunch time for Tokyoites. We bought tickets, handed them to the efficient waiter and waited outside in the drizzle; the bowls were served upon taking our seats 30 minutes later. "This is the first time I have ever had to queue for ramen," tomodachi-san (friend) remarked, speaking from long experience. After slurping down the daily special (with slices of pork and a hard boiled egg) we began our journey around the Palace grounds. "There was a time when my mother and I would come here at 8 AM, before the crowds arrived," recalled tomodachi-san.
Our route began at Chidorigafuchi Moat, at the northeastern tip the most popular viewing spot in town where the pale pink blossoms greeted us. "Kirei! Kirei! (beautiful)," my friends said in unison. Out came the cameras as everyone posed with the obliging trees. Some passers-by snapped self-portraits with their cell phones; no one in Tokyo is shy about photographs. Some rowboats enjoyed the view from the moat, to the tune of Y 800 (about $10) for 30 minutes. Down the allee we observed junior office workers setting up for the evening picnics. Past the home of the Crown Prince, whose wife is said to be depressed and whose daughter recently missed a few days of school due to bullying, down to the British Embassy compound where the cherries date to 1897, we strolled. How convenient to warm up with coffee at a hotel restaurant filled with kimono clad guests in their spring finery. Our appetite for flower viewing satisfied we retreated to Hanzomon Station, and promised to meet again at azalea time.
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