4 Tokyo, Japan

Our trip to Japan certainly started out on the right foot. When we arrived at the Sydney Airport to check in for our flight we found out that Japan Airlines had overbooked economy class and they had no choice but to upgrade us to first class. We gleefully joined the Japanese businessmen in black suits at the luxurious front of the plane where we must have stuck out like throbbing thumbs in track pants and flip flops. That and the fact that a curious Katrina put her seat in the full 180 bed position as soon as the fasten seatbelt sign went off. In addition to the expected perks (read: champagne) we got bowing flight attendants, on demand udon or soba noodle soup, and a "Japanese style" lunch option that featured a beautiful display of a dozen or so colorful items including fish, duck, shrimp, tamago, soba, and miso soup to name a few. And the cheese and dessert tray that came down the aisle made us feel like we were at an elegant restaurant instead of thousands of feet in the air.

We expected that our arrival in Tokyo would be a rude awakening. Crowds, Japanese characters, and chaos. It took us hours of wandering to find our first hotel in Moscow--and that was just the Cyrillic alphabet. Japan at first glance was, as we expected, different. However not enough to completely catch you off guard but in a more subtle, in the details sort of way that had us smiling from the get go.Finding our accommodations this time was a breeze, especially with English translations on all the street signs. Oak Hotel was just lovely with slippers at the door and two robes laid out by a warm bed to welcome us to our room. It was completely adorable how everything was in miniature, particularly the half-length, half-width bathtub in a closet-like bathroom--even the tea kettle was tiny! Oak Hotel is a short walk from three different train/subway stations which makes it the perfect homebase for exploring Tokyo.

And explore we did! We started out in Central Tokyo with a walk around the moated Imperial Palace, which is surrounded (at a distance) by the National Diet, Supreme Court, National Theatre, museums, and the British Embassy. Civilians are not allowed in the palace and only permitted in a small fraction of the gardens. What we did get to see could more accurately be described as the "royal grounds" instead of "gardens"; there were not many flowers but many historic buildings, including three samurai guardhouses, and some lovely stonework and fish ponds.

The quiet terrain of the Imperial Gardens is quite a contrast to the urban jungle of Shinjuku. We started with a free ride up to the observatory tower of the Municipal Government Building. Amidst the impressive skyscrapers Patrick spotted the Jingu Baseball Stadium not too far away; next thing you know we were sitting among Swallows fans with a game snack of edamame rooting on the home team against the visiting Tigers. Japanese baseball rules are exactly the same as American, but without much power behind the plate the game is played somewhat differently. Think small ball on steriods. Wait, that doesn't work. Think small ball on diet pills. The crowd was extremely lively, but not like we are used to at Fenway. Soccer-style, the fans of the visiting team were segregated to their own section and whoever's team was at bat was led in constant organized singing and cheering by an official leader. We were surprised to see and hear a lot of English mixed in with Japanese in the cheers and on the scoreboard. We were thrilled to catch a team shirt when their mascot pulled out the t-shirt gun--Patrick donned it immediately with the Swallows' motto, "Just play to win", in English across his chest. Oh, and one last difference. Instead of the seventh inning stretch there is "Lucky 7", an opportunity for the crowd to stand, sing, and wave their most dear of accessories- the umbrella.

By the time we left the park it was dark--perfect for seeing the seedy Shinjuku all lit up in neon. We walked by shops, karaoke venues, clanging slot machine parlors, and hundreds of little restaurants before sitting down to a meal of sushi by conveyor belt. The counter had a simple setup: chopsticks, soy sauce, huge jars of pickled ginger, and hot water dispensers for filling up your tea at will. The hard part was deciding which delicious dish of sushi to snap up as it passed by. They use the color and shape of the empty plates to figure out how much to charge us at the end and we were shocked to find out that none of the items we'd selected had cost more than $2 USD.

Conveyor belt sushi was fun, but our sushi experience the next morning blew it away. Tsukiji is the largest fish market in the world, and when we got there mid-morning it was filled with men in trucks and on scooters whizzing around the docks picking up the orders they had secured much earlier at auction. There is a smaller market aimed at the non-industrial customer steps away from the big rigs, and we immediately zeroed in on a tiny sushi restaurant with a huge line out the door. The windows were steamed up and an employee kept coming outside to yell Japanese at the hopeful customers, manually turn us around, and reorganize the line in a strange manner that made sense to no one but her. By the time we got in to sit down we'd figured out exactly how much sushi we could buy before maxing out at this cash-only establishment, which wasn't much, since it was pricey, too. At the counter, we were immediately given cups of green tea and a personal sushi chef who elegantly made each piece to order. And oh my gosh. Best. Sushi. Ever. The tuna glistened like a jewel on its little bed of rice and the freshwater eel delicately melted in our mouths like nothing we'd ever tasted. It's probably a good thing we hadn't come prepared with more cash, because no matter the amount we would have gone through it all.

Living on noodles the rest of the time proved much more economical. Noodle houses are everywhere, dishing out heaping bowls of udon or soba with meat, veggies, egg, fried fruits of the sea, and who knows what else. Every restaurant has pictures and/or plastic food models outside, making it very easy for us to point at what looked good (even if we couldn't identify all the components). Slurping is actually encouraged, which makes for an interesting soundtrack while you dine, and we actually got pretty good at it. Patrick coined the term "broth face" for the messy condition in which the slurping left our chins. Also, encouraged is finishing your dish by sipping directly from the bowl. So be sure to eschew the ladle next time you go to Wagamama.

After Tsukiji we walked a few blocks to the Kabuki-za Theatre, one of the most famous places to see traditional kabuki. A full performance is four or five hours and tickets are expensive, but it's possible to purchase single act passes for around $7 USD each to watch from the fourth floor balcony. We got to see the first act and it was definitely something else. The costumes are incredible and the speech is highly stylized, with actors' voices sliding up and down the scale. We of course had no idea what was going on in the plot but deduced that it had something to do with a rivalry between warriors, the emperor judging a case, and a battle. Bottom line...someone had their head cut off and it was awesome. The audience seemed to be enjoying the show as they yelled out throughout the performance, often exclaiming the name of their favorite actor during one of his dances. Just another charming difference of a world so far away and different from the one we call home.

View more pictures from Tokyo here.

1 West Coast

We have enjoyed our recent trips to the left coast so much that we decided to plan an action-packed Memorial Day getaway out west. Accompanying us for the trip was Patrick's brother, Riley "Carl" Foster, for his first visit out west since the time he prowled Disneyland in a stroller. Much to the delight of the brothers they were able to catch all of Game 2 of the Eastern Conference Finals en route thanks to Jet Blue's 34 channel's of Direct TV (yes we are a walking Jet Blue ad). Much to their dismay however, the Celts lost their first home game of the playoffs. Upon arrival at the Days Hotel in Oakland late that night we were checked in by a large man wearing a sky blue Days Inn polo, suspenders, and a mickey mouse timepiece around his neck. A more welcoming sight I cannot imagine.

The next morning we took a stroll along the highway to get to the Oakland BART station. We obviously looked a bit lost upon walking in to the station as we were immediately approached by a friendly Oaklander looking to help. He asked where we were going, showed us exactly how much fare we needed, and helped us purchase our tickets. As we very gratefully thanked him, he pointed to a destination where he was going, and showed us exactly how much he needed to get there. While it was clear he wasn't going anywhere, we very happily provided him the fare. Our conclusion: the beggars in Boston have much to learn from their helpful West Coast counterparts.

We rode the BART to the Mission District, San Francisco's Latin Quarter, to begin our day of exploring the city. The streets of the Mission District are colorful, lined with fabulous murals, cafes, and markets displaying fresh produce. Dolores Park, a sprawling greenspace located in the heart of the Mission District, provided fantastic views of the city skyline. After a few hours of wandering around we refueled with a strawberry soda from a local shop and hopped a bus to the other side of town. No first trip to San Francisco would be complete without a visit to Lombard Street and that was our next stop. This is the crookedest street in the world--tourists' cars line up to take a turn to wind their way down the hill, dodging people who jump into the street to take pictures (like us).

It has long been a Bergmann family tradition to visit Ghiradelli Square when in San Francisco. The chocolate shop offers free samples as well as every flavor, shape and gift basket they make. The adjoining ice cream parlor makes phenomenal sundaes, including a gigantic creation called "The Earthquake". The 10-scoop, fully-loaded treat taunted us, and we decided to take on the

challenge. The first bite was delicious, but as we worked our way through the task grew more arduous, the process messier. Eighteen minutes later, we finally took the last bite. Victory! As Riley and Katrina hobbled outside holding their stomachs, Patrick boldly declared that he was hungry, and the two looked on as Patrick downed an In-N-Out burger and fries. Once Patrick finished stuffing his face, we walked along Fisherman's Wharf to work off our mid-afternoon gluttony. We passed by street artists, musicians, and the infamous Bushman who jumps from his leafy disguise to scare tourists for tips. When comparing notes with Bay Area natives later we found out that this guy has been working the Wharf for years.

We returned to the Days Hotel in Oakland to get ready for that night's Sox-A's game at McAfee Coliseum. To prepare for the game we decided to indulge ourselves with some of the prominent local fare- Jack in the Box and 40's of Budweiser. After many ounces of Bud we were ready to be loud, rowdy, and represent. Unfortunately the Sox weren't quite as prepared and fell to the local nine 8-3. After the game the suddenly cocky hometown fans decided to verbally berate our red and blue clad crew. Patrick was more than up to the task and the walk back to our hotel was heated to say the least.

Before anyone came looking for the loud Sox fan in the number 24 shirt, we got out of town the next morning. We swung back by the airport to pick up our rental car for the day, Black Beauty, and set off northward for Seattle. The first few hours of the trip were rainy and quiet as people caught up on sleep but all were quickly roused by the promise of a visit to the northernmost In-N-Out burger in Redding. The next leg of the drive was truly scenic with vistas ranging from Mt. Shasta in northern California to the rolling, fir tree speckled terrain of Oregon. We were able to squeeze in a short visit to Portland, Oregon and were impressed by the green downtown and the local Thai food. That Saturday was a busy one as in the span of 5 minutes we came across two weddings and a prom (obvious Hugh Grant joke omitted here). The last miles of our day long drive were highlighted by a Celtics victory over Detroit with an assist from XM radio and a stunning setting sun to the west. After a 3 minute stand off between Patrick and traffic spikes at the entrance to the Rental Car Return, we finally reached our destination...at 10PM on the dot which was Black Beauty's curfew that Saturday night.

It was early to bed that night and late to rise the next morning as we continued our adjustment to PDT. Once the crew, now including Katrina's family, was assembled we set off for Tiger Mountain for a hike in the Washington woods. Tiger Mountain is well-known as a take off point for local paragliders and we were treated to quite the aerial show at both the top and base of the mountain.

Dinner that evening was at the heralded (at least by us) La Cocina y Cantina in the Capitol Hill neighborhood in Seattle. There are two musts when you visit La Cocina, the massive La Cocina Burrito and an equally massive Margarita. Impressively, more burritos were finished than not, a rare feat that will undoubtedly live in lore for decades if not centuries to come. Jump-started by the aforementioned margaritas a night of game playing and imbibing ensued that lingered into the morning hours.

The next morning we slept in even later, but determined not to let our next to last day slip away. We rallied and headed to Pike Place Market, Seattle's famous destination for all things commerce (and tourist). There we scoured the sizeable selection of scaly seafood, contributed to the impressive yet disgusting gum wall, and received a singing fortune from Elvis. Next we skipped crosstown to the International District for a delicious dinner at Shangai Garden featuring Katrina's favorite--hand shaven green barley noodles.

From the the International District, Safeco Field is a short walk. Another baseball game you ask? You know it! The Olde Towne Team was facing off against the Mariners and this time the outcome (and ballpark) was much more to our liking. Thankfully following the 5-3 victory the post-game shouting matches were limited to deciding who was going to sit on who's lap as the six of us wedged into a Honda Civic. The loser was Katrina.

The majority of the final day of our trip was spent at the Museum of Flight housed at Seattle's captain of industry's Boeing Field. To say this museum is a must-visit is an under statement. Think Air and Space Museum times ten. We first toured a British Airways Concorde and then an Air Force One that made many historic flights and was in use from the Eisenhower to Clinton administrations. Other highlights included an entire wing on World War I and II history, an exhibit on flight attendants featuring the risque past of airline advertising, and enough interactive simulators to occupy Patrick for hours. The 4 hours we spent there was not nearly enough and we will probably go back to see what we missed the first time.

We were sent off in style that night with a gourmet home BBQ. Armed with a belly full of food to fight off hunger and induce sleep, we boarded our red-eye flight back to Boston. Though we once again had the luxury of our Direct TV there really isn't much on at 3AM. We aren't ashamed to say that a mini marathon of "The X Effect" did help pass the time. Morning greeted us at Logan and we bid goodbye to Riley as we hopped the T for work. Vacation days are a precious commodity and we certainly weren't going to waste one sleeping.