The morning began at Tsukiji Outer Market, where I enjoyed a breakfast beer and an unexpected adventure in a public restroom. Upon sitting down, I was serenaded by birdsong and the gentle sound of running water. Very zen. Until I tried the bidet, which promptly went rogue and power-washed my lower back instead of my booty. Good times in Tokyo.

From the market, we wandered through Tokyo’s streets, popping into small specialty shops filled with beautiful wares. The shops were charming, immaculate, and decidedly not designed to accommodate sixteen tourists, most wearing backpacks. Watching us attempt to negotiate the narrow aisles without knocking over something precious was an exercise in spatial awareness. And diplomacy.

Lunch was at a welcoming little restaurant tucked away from the tourist trail. Our group took over the entire upstairs floor, which was probably just as well. It kept us noisy Westerners safely separated from the regulars downstairs. The food was delicious, the hospitality gracious, and it was a pleasure to enjoy a meal somewhere that felt genuinely local.

After lunch, the group headed to Kappabashi Street, Tokyo’s famous kitchenware district. I decided to give that excursion a miss. A street lined with knives, ceramics, and cooking gadgets is a dangerous proposition for someone like me. I could easily have emerged with a suitcase full of things I absolutely do not need.

Besides, I’ve decided to save my Japanese knife shopping for Osaka, the final stop on my journey. Much easier than hauling sharp objects halfway across Japan.

Sometimes restraint is the better part of shopping. Who knew?