Tokyo bristles with activity. Everybody moves. They don’t stop. They can’t stop. Tokyo seems to tell me: If you want to sit take the Metro, or eat at a restaurant. Or do this:

I learn to look over my shoulder before I change direction or stop. A series of near collisions teach me: It is only too likely that there is someone just behind me.

Nevertheless, I see places that are so different from the rest of Tokyo that they appear almost magical. My favourite one is the Meiji shrine, just around the corner from Shibuya crossing. Behind the gate lies a different world. Green, serene and tranquil.

I walk past the guard …

…  and step into a world that seems to belong to another time.

The internet guides me to a Ryokan, a traditional japanese guest house. A green island hidden from sight by stone walls.

For a while this is my tranquility base.

The eagle has landed.