Around 10am on Friday morning I ambled out of Harajuku Station headed towards the Shibuya Ward Office where I was planning to report a mutation in my status as a registered alien. I wasn't particularly surprised to noticed a long queue of people snaking around the pedestrian bridge at the top end of Omotesando - it's not as if queues in this vicinity are an uncommon sight. I was mildly impressed to see that it actually reached all the way over the bridge towards the Yoyogi National Gymnasium, seen in the background of this picture I was moved to take:

To my surprise though, that wasn't the end of the line. Oh no. It went around the corner and down the road which runs parallel to the Yamanote Line. And it looked a very determined sort of queue, complete with essential queuing items such as small portable stools (though oddly enough few people had thought to bring along anti-sun equipment such as parasols or hats).

And it didn't stop until it reached the crossroads at the south side of Yoyogi National Gymnasium, about a quarter of the way to Shibuya, where the presence of a Softbank employee holding an "End of Queue" sign alerted me to the fact that today was the day Apple was launching its ineffably trendy, fashionable and stylish iPhone in Japan.

Unfortunately I have applied for and failed to receive a Coolness License several times, so I was not permitted to join the end of the line in the quest to be among one of the first in to Japan to be hospitalized for sunstroke while queueing for an iPhone.

Life in Japan - if you're not living next to a main road, above a Pachinko parlour or near any foreign embassy which meets the displeasure of the guys with the black vans - can be remarkably serene and quite. Old China hands, used to the hustle and bustle of that nation's great cities, find this particularly unsettling, but now they can recreate that unbeatable Sino-raucousness in the comfort of their own homes thanks to this business based in Tokyo's Nishi Shinjuku neighbourhood offering a new take on the concept of "Chinese takeaway".

Until recently the rubbish receptacles in the kitchen at work were labelled in Japanese only. A few days ago some kindly soul went round and added English translations for the non-Japanese speaking members of staff. The translations were excellent, apart from this one subtle error.

Until I had a close look at where they get their ingredients from, the offerings at this "fresh juice" stall in the basement of Lumine 1 at Shinjuku Station always looked very healthy and tempting.

The global credit crunch has reached Japan, and banks are reacting by providing innovative financial products such as the No Loan, enabling cash-strapped consumers to borrow no money whatsover at very reasonable terms and conditions.

As a professional emigré (primary occupation since the age of 18) it is always with some trepidation that I approach an unfamiliar Immigration Office, and having read and heard various horror stories about the previously mentioned Immigration Bureau in Tokyo (significantly tucked away on an artificial island in the middle of the docks), the trepidation-o-meter was all over the dial.

Just got some documents from an organisation naming itself the "Ministry of Justice" claiming I have "won" a 3 year visa to Japan which I can take to a dodgy-sounding location down in the Shinagawa docks a short walk away from the Minato Ward Garbage Factory to exchange for an actual visa against the payment of an upfront "fee"

Sounds like an unbeatable deal (though if you don't hear back from me in a day or two it means I am probably having some special shoes fitted beneath the waters of Tokyo Bay).

It's nice to see the Japanese-German relationship is still going strong, as demonstrated by these enthusiasts for traditional German garb at the Oktoberfest in Hibiya Park a few weeks ago.