The Emperor's New Birthday.

I took an overnight bus to Tokyo after work that Friday (22nd). Erin and I met the next morning to have a look at the Imperial Palace. The grounds are a massive walled enclosure that take up a big chuck of the centre of Tokyo, and normally the entirety of the grounds are closed to the public. They open twice a year, and one of those times, the Emperors Birthday, was that Saturday. So we arrive at on of the massive gates, and there is security everywhere. No barriers here, just lines and lines of police, sometimes with their arms linked.

Bit like a Céilí really.

X-ray machines, frisks, etc. And then we're allowed to get within 200m of the walls. BIG ASS STONE WALLS. Although they looked fun to climb.


Next comes the "not so secret" service. Towards the entrance gate, the crowd is funneled through a series of barriers, lined with men, and a tiny number of of equally severe looking women, all uniformly dressed in black trench coats, all with the eyes and a look that let you
know that they are taking in EVERYTHING. There's a lot of talk in Japan about security, but that's it, just talk. Their security is a joke, but in this case I think they were working on
the principle that they all knew what the three most wanted people in the country look like: two men and a women accused of involvement in the sarin gas attacks 10 years ago.

Still at large.

And standing right behind you.

Eventually inside the gates, and I realise that the grounds are not, in fact, open. Just a courtyard below a balcony surrounded by suspiciously thick glass... We're handed some crappy paper flags, and some old men start yelling "BANZAI!!!" when the Emperor and his family appear on the Balcony.


He looked like a Teddy Bear! This tiny old man with his sons towering over him (they've stepped backward above), taking in the crowd (old Japanese, and young foreigners, no young Japanese...) and thanking us for our Birthday wishes. Then, as quickly as it started, it was over and we were politely asked to
leave...release the hounds.


Ninja hounds.

So well trained in the arts that I couldn't even see them. But they were there...

I was disappointed. Not at the spectacle, that was all very interesting, but by the lack of crying. I wanted to see old men and women cry. Is that too much to ask?

http://s114.photobucket.com/albums/n267/davidlmorrison/JapanAug2006toJul2007/Christmas2006/