At the center of Tokyo lies the most expensive real estate in the world – the fortress of Edo Castle. Constructed in the 15th century by the Tokugawa Shogunate, it is now the site of the Imperial Palace and was purported by some to be worth more than all the property in California combined. Today only one part of the sprawling palace grounds is open to the public, the Kokyo Higashi Gyoen (East Imperial Gardens).
It was a mid-week August day when my brother and I decided to take up the Ministry of Tourism’s suggestion and visit. The gardens are located within the inner walls of the old fortress. While the site is considered some of the finest horticulture in the country, all I really wanted to see was the fortifications of the largest castle in all of Japan. The steep granite walls and deep moats were never taken in battle.
We entered through the Otemon Gate, an imposing structure through which visiting feudal lords were made to enter and was once under the guard of Koga Ninjas. While the modern gate guards more closely resemble the American Secret Service than ninjas, the scene was still impressive. We were given a numbered plastic token, which had to be returned upon our departure and we made our way in. Once inside the walls, the constant din of sound that is Tokyo, faded and I was left wondering how such a serene, quite space could exist when surrounded by more than 12 million people.
One of the first things you see after you turn the corner is a sign in English that reads “Rest House 100m ahead.” I thought that remark quite amusing. After all, American parks were not so exciting that they required more than a bench now and then. As the sun traveled higher in the sky, however, the temperature kept pace. By 11:00 am, the temperature had passed 105oF. While in sunny Southern California this would have been mildly unpleasant, with 99% humidity it became clear that the rest houses were not just intended for the elderly. Dabbing the beads of sweat off our faces with bandanas, like our Japanese counterparts, we decided a short break was in order. By the end of our garden excursion we found ourselves walking from rest house to rest house and seeing the plants on the way.
While not an atheistically pleasing edifice, the fully enclosed, air-conditioned room looked beautiful to us – it even had the requisite vending machine. Out of the forty varieties of ice-cold green tea, which I would recommend only trying once in your life, I took the Coca-Cola. Though the only thing on the can I could understand was the trademark ribbon, my first sip confirmed its identity. Coke never tasted so good.
