TOKYO TIMES

It's been a long five years since I was last in Nihon. The land where money does grow on Fuji apple trees; decade-long studies for sushi chef qualification and where Armani suited men sleeping on streets propped up by their briefcases, is entirely acceptable.

Tokyo is where I learned the tricks of the DJ trade. Where I steadfastly polished my  chaotic beat matching, experimented with progressive house and sat up late watching my mentors work the crowd and machinery.

Tokyo is also where I adopted a bicycle and discovered concrete paths of memories, walked miles among the Lego-like houses and sat at restaurants of half a dozen capacity. Spoke sign language with random Japanese who were too proud to test their English. Even shared meals with them, pointing and gesturing descriptively. It was the loneliest, most enriching two years of my life.

And now I was going back.

A quick, convenient pit stop before the first race of the 2nd season of Formula E. Two gigs lined up - the first at ALIFE on Friday night, and on Saturday an event with racing simulators - similar to the ones used in the Emotion Club at the FE track.

After leaving my passport on the plane, it was a race against time and human effort to get to my connecting flight for Tokyo. But the Gods were with me and sake was to be had!

The first night was spent trawling the bars of Roppongi. Which I'm sad to say, has long lost it's heyday. The billboards and lights were still flashing, but the streets were empty. All that was left were African hagglers, promising "free tits and beer" in some dive bar off the main street...a sad state indeed.