A few days after I landed in Tokyo, I got a message from fellow travelling Melbourian, Carey (you might have heard of him, his online presense is over 9000) "Hey dude, you wanna go to Tokyo Motor ShoW?" Travelling through the subway, I've seen the posts plastered on the pillars a handful of times, but not paying attention to the date, I had just assumed it was one of those shows that packed up when I landed. Never assume. We still had some time to make the show, and today was the day we made time.
So I was told I had grab tickets before hand a Family Mart. For those not familiar with what Family Mart is, think of it as an alternative convenient store to Seven-Eleven, which it is basically. There are no storage of them around Asakusa, so I make no detour towards one on my way to the subway station. Walking in, I approach the counter and ask the clerk, Tokyo Motor Show tikeito arimasuka? to which he replies something I can't follow and directs me to this little machine next to the counter and takes me through the steps. All is well until I have to input my details and the little machine won't let us progress without a mobile contact number, which I don't have. We both look at each other, the clerk looking like he has let me down, and me literally not knowing what to say, but I try. Daijobu. Eto, soko Motor Show tikeito kaiimasuka? This probably makes no sense, but hopefully he catches on that I'm trying to ask if tickets can be bought at the show. Wakaranai...chotomate kukasai.
Next thing I know, the clerk has brought over his younger assistant who leads me into the lobby of the hotel next door and proceeds to exchange a few words with the English speaking receptionists. These guys are going to far too much trouble for me. I'm politely given a run down on how to get to the show and that tickets are in fact available at the gate. Phew. I thank the receptionist before I'm lead out to the street by the assistant clerk who unnecessarily points me in the direction of the local subway station. All I did was walk in 10 minutes ago hoping to get a car show ticket and the clerk could have simply just pointed me towards the machine I needed to use and left it at that. Instead, they've gone far out of their way to help me out. I feel obliged to buy something in their store, but this assistant clerk continues to stand there, waving me off. So I do that. I make my way to the station and wait for Carey to rock up.
Kindly enough, the show had a free shuttle bus running in between the venue and (I believe) Tokyo station. Pleasantly nice of them.
The show it self wasn't all that different to any other show I've been to, aside from one thing, the venue it was hosted in was huge. The venue was made up of a series of different halls, all of which enclosed a different genre of car. In one hall you had your regular everyday city commuter and motorcycles, another trucks and other commercial things, over the side was a floor for kids to cause mayhem in. Aside from the motorcycles, none of those matter, what we really wanted to get a glimpse at was Toyota's new baby sports coupe, the beastly hyped up 86. It was relief to finally see it in the metal, just a shame they felt it appropriate to show it off in orange. Urgh.
After grabbing a bite to eat and ogling each other's cameras it was onto the monorail and off to our separate schedules.
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