Unfortunately I spend way too much time in front of a computer to have the energy to be an examplary citizen of the blogosphere. Fortunately I don't have any statistics utilities in operation (other than the raw logfiles which I systematically scour for bad bots so I can block the hell out of them) so I don't lose sleep over the amount of people who might or might not be reading here (hi Mum!). Nevertheless I've recently come across a couple of blogs to add to the roll on the right (if you are reading this on the main page) and thought I'd take the opportunity to mention them in the hope of gaining some bloggy karma or whatever.

First off, a Brit who lived a long time in Germany, married a Japanese citizen and moved to Japan. And no, this isn't me, it's David, aka mdid, who is also penguin-friendly and so qualifies for an entry in the list of bloggy linkiness even if he never makes another post again.

Another bogging Brit is our man in abiko, a place for which I have a soft spot because although I've never been there I did commute on the Odakyu Line for a while, which connects via the Tokyo Metro Chiyoda Line to whatever line it is passes through Abiko, and the platform destination signs always contained references to Abiko and other exotic-sounding destinations such as Ayase and Toride. At least they sounded distant and exotic to me, although no doubt if you get off at Abiko you will see a) a station square with some bus stops and a statue of something random like a young girl juggling pumpkins; b) a shopping street called e.g. "Abiko Ginza" or "Abiko Sun Road" containing an eclectic mix of local shops and chains such as McDonalds, Doutor and Yoshinoya; and c) a giant pachinko complex. Fortunately our man in abiko doesn't blog much about local issues, even though the place is no doubt much more delightful than I imagine, but does have an interesting and incisive take on Japanese political affairs, which deserve all the satiric commentary they can get.

Finally, not exactly a new discovery but someone I have neglected to read more often: Thomas, who as his domain name tokyotom.com suggests, lives in Sendai. A much more diligent poster than I, he has some interesting insights into long-term life in Japan and well worth following.

PS Anyone know what's happened to Tokyo Cowgirl?

It's undeniable: space in Japan, especially in built-up areas like Tokyo, is at a premium. Common features of houses in many other cities around the world, such as gardens and driveways, are literally thin on the ground. Which is a bit of a problem for anyone in possession of a large, self-propelling lump of metal-on-wheels, because if there's one thing rarer than driveways, it's on-street parking.

Consequently drivers are often forced to find creative solutions if they wish to be able to stable their gasoline steed within reasonable commuting distance of their domicile. A simple solution is to build your home on stilts, freeing up valuable real estate for the convenience of modern man's best friend, the automobile. No matter if the patch of ground you call your own is actually smaller than your treasured BMW: necessity is the mother of all inventions, especially if your plot of land happens to border on the concrete-clad banks of a river.

More precisely to all the glum-looking Christians hanging around outside Meiji Jingu today with yellow signs bearing cheery messages such as "This World Will Crumble Away", "We Are All Doomed", "You in Particular Are Going To Hell", "Wash Your Clothes in the Blood of Jesus Christ For That Purer Than Pure Look" etc. etc. OK, I am paraphrasing slightly here, but come on guys, cheer up a bit. It was a lovely morning, just right for a spot of symbolic pagan / animistic / dead emperor worship and coin throwing, and judging by the reactions of passers by (none) I don't think your message was getting through to any one at all.

(Now, if you could direct your energies towards the abolition of incessant and religiously meaningless Christmas carols from mid-November onwards, you might get a bit more sympathy...).

This is Shibuya Crossing. Even if you've never been to Tokyo you've very probably seen it on TV. Or in "Lost In Translation". By law anyone doing any kind of filming has to shoot at least one scene here or they won't be allowed to leave the country. It's very impressive, what with the masses of people and all those futuristic-looking high-tech video screens. In fact it's one of those iconic locations where it'd be fun to celebrate the countdown to New Year, sort of like New York's Times Square or London's Trafalgar Square. As you can see from the picture below, at around 11pm there were quite a lot of people gathered with the intention of having a bit of harmless fun:

But not if Mr. Policeman is going to have anything to do with it. Oh no. Mr. Policeman is evidently having a great time repeating the announcement that there would be no countdown at this location, and that anyone planning one should please bugger off somewhere else off his beat. He'd even gone to the trouble of having those futuristic video screens shut off.

Meanwhile Mr. Policeman's friends were busy blocking off the diagonal bit of the crossing, to prevent any blatant and gratuitous acts of fun:

So, sensing that Mr. Policeman's friends and some rather less friendly-looking friends of his with big sticks might impose officially-sanctioned boredom, we buggered off somewhere else.

Just when you think you've seen it all... there I was at Shinagawa Station, waiting on board the little local train in the general direction of Yokohama to puff into action (well, it was electric of course, but that line still has some quite quaint old-fashioned looking trains hailing from a foregone era) and minding my own business while noting that the doors were closing accompanied by the usual "doors are closing and don't even think about trying to board this train" which was a sure sign it would be departing very shortly (the slightest spot of rain always seems to muck the timetable on that line up somewhat) when Mrs. Fat Middle-Age Trout comes waddling down the steps onto the platform. Now, I would be a whole lot more kindly disposed towards Mrs. Trout and love her for her beautiful mind and not her toad-like body if she hadn't done what she then did, which was to stick her bag into the door literally as it was about to close all the way.

Now, if I'd been the person standing by the door I would have - without stopping to think - pulled open the door slightly and pushed the bag firmly back out, because try a trick like that where I come from and you'd be dragged along the platform and possibly impaled upon the platform end signals unless you had the presence of mind to let go of the bag, something which probably wouldn't occur to Mrs. Trout, who - let's be honest here - is probably a bit of a stupid bint who deserves whatever's coming to her (such as the next immobile, sharp and pointy signalling device).

But, this being Japan, the guard opened all the doors again, allowing Mrs. Trout to board at the inconvenience of the person who was standing by the doors, and the train was only delayed by 15 seconds or so, which - all things considered - is better than the inevitable indefinite delay which would have been caused by what I would happily have testified to the inquest as being the last suicidal act of an obviously deranged person.

The rest of the day wasn't too bad though.

As Neil Duckett recently wrote, Mejiro is a "pretty quiet place with not a whole lot to do" and having lived in the area for a few months, I wouldn't disagree (though I would hasten to point out that not only is there is a 24hr McDonalds, but also that the fleshpots of Ikebukuro and Takadanobaba are within walking distance). However he did neglect to mention its main attraction, which visitors from as far away as Shin-Okubo and Otsuka come to see with their own eyes: the Lopsided Storefront of Mejiro-Dori.

"Most people assume it's like that due to earthquakes" said Mr. Yamamoto, proprietor of the store on the ground floor which sells a range of miscellaneous unclassifiable household products last updated during the reign of Emperor Hirohito. "But as you can see if you look carefully, the lower storey is perfectly straight. Visitors are usually disappointed when I tell them the builder was pissed as a newt by the time he'd got to the upstairs bit. But he was cheap, and you soon get used to the sloping floor. In fact, sleepng at an angle is great for your circulation. You should try it some day, young man."

Open to the public on alternating Thursdays as long as Mr. Yamamoto's knees aren't giving him too much gip.

Not that I have been to Taiwan yet, but when I get round to it one place I'll definitely be avoiding is Yuanlin (員林), home of the world's first Hello Kitty themed medical establishment. Personally I would rather attempt to disembowel myself with a blunt, toothpaste-encrusted toothbrush than submit to this kind of torture thinly disguised as medical care.

Patients are welcomed by a statue of Hello Kitty dressed in a doctor's uniform, before travelling in a Hello Kitty elevator to a pink examination room with Hello Kitty posters on the wall.

Masochists can view a video news report here (warning: contains scenes likely to cause distress) and check out the obligatory Hello Kitty Hell coverage here.

The first, and possibly last, of an occasional series in which I document Tokyo's fascinating desert flora.

First off: this two-storey leviathan of a water-storing spine plant seen not far from Ikebukuro.