Nothing happens before breakfast. Nothing. And in Japan, if you’re late for the hotel buffet, you sit quietly and wait your turn.
Once your turn is up, you’re escorted into a quiet room where hot croissants are bussed around as they come out of the kitchen, piping hot miso sits next to delicious fish cakes, there are at least 3 different types of coffee, and the view is spectacular:
If, like me, you’re particularly enamored with their coffee, there are to-go cups for you to take it away. That’s incredibly thoughtful.
And then the sun comes up, and the entire district is transformed into this incredibly bright, fresh, scene. I sprained my left foot yesterday, but I don’t care. I’m ready to go.