Tokyo Is Expensive

After lunch -- a $4.65 bento , or boxed lunch, from the basement of the Takashimaya Times Square shopping complex -- we took the Metro to the Kagurazaka neighborhood. Narrow, stone-paved alleys led to red-painted neighborhood shrines and temples. Incense sometimes hung in the air; wind rattled skinny wooden planks called sotoba, inscribed with the posthumous, Buddhist names of the dead.

Touring finally degenerated into hanging out, and Tomoko and I got coffee, then dinner, chatting about everything from our significant others to race relations in the United States. By then, Tomoko, a year younger than I, felt as much like a friend as a tour guide. In all, my day with her cost $26, counting my meals (Tomoko bought her own food) and our Metro fares and park admission fees.

My guides the next day, Masako Kuroi and Kinuko Hattori, felt more like doting middle-aged aunts. They met me at the Tokyo Tourist Information Center, a city-run facility that offers a slate of 10 inexpensive tours, all led by two volunteer guides. Each can accommodate up to five people, but I was my guides' sole charge for the day.

We went to the old, atmospheric Asakusa district and visited Senso-ji, a Buddhist temple that's one of Tokyo's biggest tourist magnets. Masako, an outgoing part-time language teacher and mother of three, wrangled free samples of dried seaweed, crackers and sweets from the vendors lining the approach to the temple.

"She's a good negotiator," said Kinuko, a more reserved mother of two with a nearly encyclopedic knowledge of the statues, paintings and religious symbolism on our route. Both women spoke nearly flawless English, though Masako occasionally consulted an electronic translator for exactly the right word.

Our tour ended in the restaurant supply shops of the Kappabashi district, where we examined the plastic food used in Tokyo's ubiquitous window displays. I found a fake mug of Kirin beer complete with bubbles, as well as a red plastic steak with white plastic marbling.

What was real? What was fake? Part of Tokyo's mystique is that you never quite know for sure.

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The city works to seduce you. Some of the seductions are capitalist, aimed at your wallet. Any cheapskate's trip to Tokyo will include visits to showrooms -- I listened to Sony music, gawked at Nissan cars and climbed onto Honda motorcycles (bolted to the floor, of course).

Other seductions are cultural. My biggest single sightseeing extravagance was a $7 ticket to one 55-minute act at Kabuki-za, a famous and ornate Kabuki theater whose curving, green-tiled roof stands out from the modern offices and high-end shopping in the Ginza district. From a seat near the ceiling, I watched white-faced actors stomp, sing and mime their way across the stage, accompanied by a warbling chorus.

Then again, some of Tokyo's seductions are, well, seductions.

At night, the touts and hustlers emerged, mostly African- and Caribbean-accented men trying to lure me into strip clubs and bars with no cover. In the night-life area of the Roppongi district, as well as in sleazy but harmless Kabukicho, I ran gantlets of women who grabbed my biceps, fluttered their eyelashes and breathed, "Special massage-y?"