Rain continued throughout the weekend, barely stopping from the time it began on Friday afternoon. This made me miserable at a time when I was in the mood to celebrate, but the weekend turned out to be a ripper one anyway as we hit the streets of Yokohama.
I’ve always had an affinity for Yokohama, as it’s a sister-port to Melbourne (my hometown), and I arrived in Japan at the same time as Aussie Bowl ’88, the last VFL footy game in the code’s Japan experiment, was played in the city in October 1988.
But the weather was bleak and cold and I didn’t want to go out.
Mrs. Kangaeroo loves Yokohama, though, and had arranged a weekend away for a celebration.
Rain, not getting my own way, and being unable to cycle had me sulking. It got worse when I had to catch a bust, then a train.
I despise public transport (even when it runs like clockwork as it generally does in Japan), but I shut up and made an effort to avoid spoiling the time for Mrs. Kanageroo.
We got to Yokohama, left our luggage at the hotel and headed into Chinatown for lunch.
My poor mood was worsened by an absolutely obnoxious group of 70-somethings seated beside us. Two of the group of eight had extraordinarily loud voices that resonated around the restaurant and made conversation for anybody else essentially impossible.
The sublime food soothed my irritation. The nine-dish course was filling, tasty and affordable, even if the other guests left a bitter after-taste.
Despite the lousy weather, the heavy meal convinced Mrs. Kangaeroo that we would be better off walking to our next destination, the Yokohama Air Cabin.
The ropeway crossing part of the port area was a fun, but quick ride lasting less than 10 minutes. It offered some wonderful views of the Minato Mirai district and was great in spite of the rain.
We had a quick saunter around the area and strolled back to the hotel along promenade forming Yamashita Park.
There is a flower display going on in the park and the cherry blossoms are blooming, so it was still nice.
We stayed at the gorgeous Hotel New Grand, a stately old dame dating back to 1927. The art décor hotel maintains much of its original flavor and is serviced in the manner that Japan is renowned for.
We dropped off our luggage in the room and got ready for dinner, Mrs. Kangaeroo looking absolutely gorgeous.
Not even the magnificent surroundings and sublime dinner were a match for her beauty….but they tried their hardest.
Dinner was Italian and exquisite. Despite the huge, late lunch and lack of exercise, there was no way that every morsel of this meal could not be enjoyed.
After the meal, we strolled through the exquisite garden, adorned with fairy lights and a beautiful fountain in its center.
By this time, I was exhausted. As I age, I find the low-pressure systems that bring rain have a debilitating effect and sap whatever energy I have. Riding often overcomes this, but no ride and eating all day knocked me out prematurely again.
Today started extremely early, as is often the case when I sleep at a preschooler’s bedtime. I woke way too early, as it turns out, as it would be several hours before Mrs. Kangaeroo would rouse herself.
In the meantime, there was cake to be eaten and coffee to be enjoyed, which I did fully. And just as well, too, as I decided to eat a continental breakfast, which to my horror, I discovered consisted of just two slices of toast and jam, albeit sublimely tasty orange and pineapple spreads.
They were filling, but not enough for my brain.
We got to eat with a glorious view of the port and could see the machinations from the Gundam Factory Yokohama across the water. But the weather was too unfriendly for any sightseeing, and we had a dinosaur waiting at home, so it was back to Kangaeroo Corner.
Nonetheless, the weekend was absolutely delightful. A nice, slow, easy time spent with my best friend in the whole world and gutsing ourselves almost incessantly in the most opulent surroundings conceivable.