After a quiet night in Nagoya, we switched hotels (after some unnecessary reservation issues!), stocked up on snacks for the day and took a 20 minute stroll to the Nagoya Gymnasium where the Grandmaster Sumo tournament was being held. The tournament lasts for two weeks and each day starts around 10am but the best wrestlers don't fight until mid-afternoon. Before that the lower leagues of younger, smaller, inexperienced wrestlers scrap it out in their quests to climb the ladder and mix it with the big boys. This meant when we arrived the stadium was half-empty, so we had plenty of opportunity to walk around, take some photos and familiarise ourselves with the various rules and traditions. I took a wander under the stands where the wrestlers entered the arena and found my way blocked by five or six semi-naked giants wearing glorified nappies. Just as I was debating whether I could get away with sneaking a photo, I heard a deafening roar and the heavy footsteps of something large thundering towards me. I turned just in time to see a mountain of a man charge past, barely inches from knocking me down. Im sure he was only practicing - I doubt he'd even noticed I was there - but I decided I was better off leaving the amateur photography alone and heading back to my seat!

A day at any sporting event isn't complete without a few beers and after discovering how expensive they were in the stadium we ducked out on a supply run to the nearest 7eleven. On the way we indulged ourselves in another round of sumo stalking! Leaving the venue we spotted a few wrestlers walking around in their kimonos and followed the biggest one into the metro. If he still has to take the metro to fights I guess he hasn't yet acquired superstar status but he certainly looked the part so as soon as he'd bought his ticket I pounced to ask him for a photo. He didn't look overly thrilled - and to be fair he may well have lost so the last thing he needed was a giddy fanboy hassling him - but he politely obliged and I escaped before he decided to crush me with his bare hands! Back to the task in hand and it was slim pickings at the 7eleven which looked like it had already been raided by seasoned sumo-goers. We grabbed the remaining cans and headed back to the stadium.

As luck would have it we got back just in time to see the top tier wrestlers arriving, filing in from their chauffeur-driven cars and weaving past the gathering crowds. For the next few hours we were glued to our seats watching the action - well I was anyway! Having watched sumo as a kid and never dreaming I'd get to see it close up, I was fascinated with pretty much everything we saw. A lot of the time the pre-fight posturing lasted longer than the bout itself but there were plenty of good matches to enjoy and one fight was so close the judges ordered it to be replayed straightaway.

The next day we made an early start and after a rather unpleasant train ride - standing room only, crammed between the luggage space and the end of the carriage for 2 hours - we arrived in Matsumoto on the edge of the mountains. The hostel was a little far from the station (and our request for a free pickup had been ignored!) so we squeezed our bags into a station locker and went exploring. After a late breakfast we found a place that offered free bikes and went for a ride around town. It was good fun and a nice easy way to visit the main attractions - a castle, traditional areas with cobbled streets, temples - and we even managed to cycle out to our hostel to check in! After a couple of hours we had a good feel for the place and aching legs and sore bums told us it was time to return the bikes and find a pub.

The place we found masqueraded as a traditional English pub and was nice to chill out in for a few hours but around 7pm we were kicked out as bizarrely it was closing time! Confused as to how any pub - let alone and 'English one' - could close so early on a saturday night we went in search of a Mexican restaurant we'd heard about. After half an hour of walking round in circles we gave up looking and went to the nearest izakaya. Smokey and packed with locals, there wasnt an English menu in sight - but the waiter did his best to translate for us and the food was pretty decent. Once we'd had our fill we rolled next door into the 300 bar where any drink you wanted was 300 yen - £2. After a couple of hours we were pretty battered and ready for the stagger home! On the way we somehow got chatting to an American guy and his random assortment of friends outside a karaoke bar...and before we knew it we were joining them in one of the rooms for a sing song! It was the american's birthday and in the end I think we did him a favour gatecrashing his party - half his mates left after 10 minutes so we boosted the numbers to non-embarrassment level! Around 4am we were all sung out and after a quick stop at McDonalds, jumped in a cab to our hostel. We'd long since decided to leave our bags in the station locker (far too drunk to lug them with us!) and finally crashed out in our packed dorm just as the sun was coming up.

Four hours later and massively hungover, we rose to disapproving looks from the hostel owners. I didn't think we'd been that noisy when we got home but then I'd also manage to lose my contact lenses so I was probably not fit to judge! Nevertheless, they gave us a lift to the station and we collected our bags before boarding the train. The journey to Tokyo was horrific. A swaying, rocking train is no fun with a hangover and it was a good hour and a half before I could even look at the sandwiches we'd bought. Kate was faring even worse and by the time we pulled in to Tokyo it took what felt like superhuman efforts to drag our sorry arses onto the metro to Ichebucharo and then walk to the hostel. Finally at the end of our journey, Kate got into bed while I heroically went on a mission to Subway for some recovery food. Four hours and some napping later we were ready to face the outside world again and made our way to a local Ninja restaurant for dinner.

As we arrived, a 'ninja' waitress escorted us to our table through a maze of dark passages, hidden bridges and booby traps. Opting for the 7 course taster menu, each dish had a ninja twist and amongst other things we dined on: throwing star crisps with fois gras; deep-filled black pastry rolls made from tofu (much nicer than it sounds) and sweet and sour pork deep fried in squid ink (delicious). The meal was rounded off neatly with a 'ninja' magician performing some very cool magic tricks at our table and after settling up we were escorted out through a secret door.

After an early night and thoroughly rested we set out the next morning determined to make the most of our last full day in Tokyo. A walk around the cobbled streets of a traditional area of Ichebucharo, a stroll through the shopping district of Ginza and coffee at Starbucks in Shibuya (to people watch at Tokyos busiest pedestrian crossing) made for a very busy morning. Hungry we headed to the Shimbashi district in search of some Yakitori (meat skewers) restaurants that had been recommended to us. After what felt like an age of unsuccessful searching we gave up and plumped for the nearest yakitori joint we could find. With no english menu and a rather deceiving picture menu, this round of Russian food roulette ended in huge failure. The meat on the skewers was unidentifiable the dish of tofu-based slime we ordered was too weird and horrible tasting even for my liking!

Appetite barely satisfied we returned to the hostel to freshen up. A few hours later we ventured to Shinjuku for the evening. Walking round looking for a BBQ restaurant we got lost in the red light district. Brightly lit streets filled with bars, strip clubs, love hotels, vending machines dispensing dirty knickers and billboards ranking the best 'players' in the area - presumably based on the abundance of hosting clubs (similar to Osaka) in the area. It was by far the most seedy place we'd encountered in japan, with a plethora of shady characters but it didn't feel remotely dangerous. That was until I took a seemingly innocuous photo of one of the streets and a big black guy - clearly with something to hide - suddenly turned on us demanding to know why I'd taken his photo. Despite my best efforts to assure him he wasn't in it, he wanted my camera and wasn't taking no for an answer so we swiftly turned and walked away. He seemed to be following us up the road, loitering sinisterly a few paces back, so we ducked into the nearest bar. It was a slightly odd place - a hooker with huge fake boobs was off her face and thoroughly enjoying playing with a balloon - but it was friendly enough and certainly safe from unwanted attention. After a quick drink and with the coast clear we headed back out to find somewhere to eat. Places were starting to close for the night so we went back to the area near our hostel in Ichebucharo and found an izakaya - a fitting place for our last dinner in japan.

After breakfast the next morning we went back to Shinjuku for a free tour we'd found online. It was taken by two local ladies - who volunteered as a way of improving their english - and although we'd seen a lot of the area the night before, the tour focused on the department stores and their vast basement food halls. It was quite interesting and tasting all the free samples in the food halls was a good way to kill a few hours! After a final spinny-spinny sushi for lunch we picked up our stuff from the hostel and got the train to the airport. Our time in Asia was over...next stop Africa!