PHFR: Sunday

Pretty:

The support for all of the runners throughout Tokyo today. Smiling faces, so many calls of “Ganbatte!” and high fives, laughs shared between spectators at the people dressed in crazy costumes. We also got these washcloths handed to us on the way to the race this morning.

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Happy:

Pocky Sticks.

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They’re breadsticks with chocolate, and they’re my new favorite thing. See how happy this girl is? This is Pocky Stick happy.

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And they double as pinata bludgeons for children in Mexico. Thank you, Internet.

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Funny:

Two signs we saw on the train today. I’m not sure what Medical Beans are, but I’ll pass on them.

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This woman feels intensely about her beer.

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Funny/Real: 

The superhero noises Travis makes every time he stands up now. “WHOWAAAHHH!” “OOOOOOOF!” “BOOOOOAH!”

Real:

I don’t like the Tachikawa train station. There are two reasons. The first reason is a combination of three facts:

  • It’s the point at which I can stop thinking about which trains to take to get “home.”
  • It’s the point at which the Ome line changes to a local line, meaning it stops at every single station.
  • By the time I reach Tachikawa, I’m dead tired.

In other words, at Tachikawa the train ride stops being an adventure and starts being a commute.

The other reason Tachikawa is low on my list of favorite train stations is that the lines don’t follow the rules. Typically, each of the lines in a station has a number, and each number is on its own platform. If you change lines, you just head to the platform that has the number for that line. This is pretty much true for every single train system I’ve been on, state-side or here. At Tachikawa, this is only true half of the time. The signs in Tachikawa for the Ome line tell you to go to platforms 1 and 2, except that the line actually runs on platforms 1, 2, and 6. The signs in the station don’t tell you that, only the schedule. I like organization, I like Japan’s organization, and this is an abberation that only really throws me because it’s in Japan.

Sorry, Tachikawa. It’s not your fault. Well… yes it is.

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