It might have been the molecular duck smoke crowns in the 37th floor Michelin-starred restaurant that disappeared like the ticker tape of bullet trains snaking the maze of Tokyo below. It could have been the semi-private thermal hydrotherapy suite with infinity views across the glittering skyline. Or perhaps it was that egg-shaped bath from which the gaze luxuriates across contemporary cedarwood screens, over the magnanimous king size bed and chaise longue artfully positioned before the dwellings’ panoramic glass fourth wall affording twenty four seven snapshots of one of the world’s most iconic cityscapes. Alas, no. For me, what left the stand out and most lasting impression was the whole Pokémon experience.
“But can you find me a table at the Pokémon Café?” I blurt, staggering fresh from the red eye