Three girls in a ridiculously tiny tent that shivered dangerously in the wind. Three girls squished together like sardines in a tin can. Three girls snoring louder than the thunder above them. And one of these three girls, was me. So, imagine the shock we had when we groggily shuffled like cavemen - women - out of our shoddy excuse of a tent. 

When my friends decided that we should visit Tokyo for the summer holidays, I was expecting some over stereotypical bustling city with sushi-filled cute girls with unnaturally large eyes. What I did not expect, however, was to be overwhelmed by such an alluring and gorgeous community. 

Absolutely. 

(Actual start => ) I couldn’t stop. So I panicked. And bottom-slided my own path- now imprinted with lovely streak - through a frosty, glittering ski slope. As I gracelessly crashed into a thankfully fluffy pile of soft snow, I thanked the lords that my foot did not come off together with my ski, scattered across the hill together with my dignity. How was I supposed to get over there? Shuffle? While bundled up in layers upon layers of jackets with a now impossibly large ski attached to the limb implanted in this mini-mountain of snow? No way. 

Three days back, I had been about as bloated as a frog mid-croak. (I swear, it had literally nothing to do with the fact that I had stayed glued to my couch watching netflix and binging on snacks.) My parents — who I do still leech off at the ripe old age of 22 — must have eventually had enough of me when they found that the previously hefty supply of chocolate had mysteriously dwindled and had signed me up for a college field trip. Alone.

That Friday, I was suddenly on a nauseating bus, bouncing our way into a

“Well done!” Tahana said as she walked over to me whilst my heart was still pounding and I was so close to collapsing, “You survived your first skydive!”

Bursting into the energetic restaurant, a sweet aroma of the chilly evening air greeted me. Radiant beams of illuminating lights lit up the active room. Songs of conversation charged my surroundings with a sharp, peripheral view of the panoramic-like radio waves echoing through the dynamic atmosphere. While waiting for my “Better than Sex” treat to arrive, soothing music cascaded rhythmically around me. 

Upon the arrival of the majestic meal, an evergreen shade of  homemade sizzling pancakes were placed elegantly on the hand woven wooden table. My very mouth watered at the sight of this flare finary of comfort food. Kaya sauce sprawled delicately on the surface of the engraved art of the plate. And so I begin to delight myself with this simply splendid luxury.

Then, after I wandered about this historical,authentic landmark, my eyes soon glazed to a rather run-of-the-mill but classical tradition of a rocking chair. Not wasting time, I abruptly started to sit on the rocking chair and I begin to relax and enjoy my lunch break. This simplistic,stylish scenic restaurant is definitely a place I would recommend for someone who deserves a good,long break from a lively day-to-day normal routine of a tedious and a monotonous workload. The casual effect of the way the staff communicated to me somehow made me feel young,wild and free again!