Osaka the musical
by Masayoshi Takanaka
Eng-lish man in 「Nyuu Yohkku」 - Sting
The Namba Samba
An opinionated guide to one of Osaka’s liveliest nightlife districts.
Getting ready
First, if you had any plans for tomorrow, cancel them.
Getting there
Don’t go to Namba station. Too big. Go to any of the other stations around Namba.
Places to go
General Japan nightlife tip: Watch out for ripoff bars. There are some places unfortunately that will try to financially take advantage of a naive newcomer. Ask about prices up front if money’s an object. Just because it’s expensive doesn’t mean it’s good. I’ve had more fun at the inexpensive, cover-free establishments than their pricier counterparts.
- Bar Coco Loco
- If you’re looking for an slightly more intentional social environment
- Masato, the bar’s manager, hosts meetups on Fridays and Saturdays. Yeah, it’s a way for him to promote this new bar, but then it might make it easier for you to meet people and make friends. So win-win. Masato himself is a very gracious, friendly host.
- There’s karaoke, darts and apparently Mario Kart (according to google)
- Farplane
- “Hentai” more or less means kink
- It’s not an orgy. At least not when I was there. It is a fun crowd in a trippy kinky ambiance.
- Don’t go to the one in Parco. It’s not the original location, and you’ll be charged a steep cover.
- Reasonable prices
- Space Station
- If you must. For what it is, it’s well done, but not the most authentic Osaka bar
- Kama Sutra karaoke bar
- An old standby for karaoke lovers
- Friendly clientele and staff
- Reasonable prices
- Moonshine
- Everything I said about Kama Sutra karaoke bar
- It’s at street level so it’s easy to access
- Bar Mustang
- I only popped in here for a minute because the bartender I met at Moonshine happened to be here as I passed by on my way home. He’s cool and he recommends this bar, so that’s enough for me.
- Great decor.
Places on my radar
I have not ventured into the clubs. I’ve heard from locals that Pure is vastly overrated, FWIW.
I heard the Drunken Clam, a family guy-themed bar, is fun.
This horror themed bar. Somewhere above Bar Coco Loco.
Food
You’re going to want something to help soak up the alcohol. I would recommend somewhere like Sukiya Nagahoribashi Station South. It’s not fine dining, but after a big night out, a big hot bowl of curry over rice can be like a religious experience. And you’ll probably spend under 1000 yen.
Castle, Garden and Market
Warning: There is sexually explicit material in this post!
After my Friday night in Kanazawa, I required caffeine. I found an excellent little cafe on my way to the castle.
The proprietor had a library for guests to peruse, including a whole section of Edo period pornography. Samurai and geisha getting freaky is the tamest of the available subgenres.
A little artful retro porn and great coffee, a perfect pairing. Happy valentines day!
At the castle, I decided to have some fun with the abundance of snow on the ground, and started throwing snowballs at a tree, for target practice. You know, like normal thing to do when visiting a national treasure. A woman in a orange jacket I had walked by earlier approached me. I dropped the snow and turned to face her.
“Uh, excuse me. I’m working on developing a new tour and I wonder if you’d mind letting me take you on a tour of the castle, and also the adjoining gardens?”
Relieved that I wasn’t in trouble, I gladly accepted. She said that the way I had said “konnichiwa” to her earlier was very friendly, and that’s what prompted her to approach me. I had assumed she was a tour guide waiting on a group reservation, and she had seemed busy with her clipboard.
I’m not going to regurgitate what is probably already on Wikipedia. A couple of points I found interesting: The local clan was very wealthy because of the abundance of productive rice fields, and so, in the 17th century, they used it to build themselves a splendid little garden. This garden was not open to the public until the 1950’s.
The lord of the clan was very particular about the sound of water in the garden. The clever gardeners figured out how to create four distinct sounds of water that can be enjoyed in their own area of the park. Can you guess what those four sounds are?
Plum blossoms
There is a cohesive design to the castle and gardens with an eye towards security. Water was diverted from a river into an artificial pond on top of a hill in the garden. If the castle was under siege, a plug would be pulled. That would drain the water from this lake and fill up the moats around the castle. There were also turrets in the castle that had a facade making them blend in to the rest of the wall from the outside. Lots of other clever stuff like that…
After the tour of the castle and gardens, she took me on a lightning tour of Omicho market. I grabbed some incredibly fresh sushi. I’ll never be able to enjoy grocery store sushi in the States again, now that I’ve had Kanazawa grocery store sushi.
The crabs accurate capture how I felt. I went back to my guesthouse and passed out.
Turn up for Kanazawa
So long, Nagano!
A bit sad leaving the convivial environment and people of 1166 Backpackers. My Kanazawa guesthouse feels like the location for a meet-cute with a fellow socially awkward, introverted traveler. The other guests seem to mostly keep to their private rooms.
After unloading my bags, I made a reservation at a highly-rated izakaya via Tabelog, then hustled to catch a bus over there in time. I wanted to go to an izakaya for the counter seating, to be around people, but when I got their they put me in a booth because the counter seating was full. Sitting there alone in a completely enclosed booth, with the sound of merrymaking all around me, felt depressing, so I left.
At this point I was desperate for food, water, and most importantly, a fun atmosphere. I just walked into the first place I saw that had counter seating.
They’re all about putting gold leaf on things here.
Tempura Shishito peppers. Chefs kiss.
Earlier I had popped in a little bar for directions. It had looked like a fun joint, so after dinner I made my way over to Bar Budokan.
“Welcome back!” the bartender said, recognizing me from earlier.
I sat down at the bar and order a draft beer.
I pointed to a jar on the counter. “Hebi (snake)??”
The bartender nodded and asked if I wanted some. It quickly became clear this was not just decorative. I thought for a second.
“Yes, of course!” I replied.
“Tsuyouii (stong)!” Said the Japanese guy next to me at the bar. Not sure if he was referring to me, this concoction, or both.
There’s no way this decision will come back to bite me.
Later, one of the other patrons started passing around a bottle of sake.
There was the guy next to me, then there was this cool English bloke. We made a pact to show up again the following night at 19:30.
It was a fun evening.
New Friends
One of the people I’ve had the pleasure of getting to know while at 1166 Backpackers guest house — let’s call her Generous — came to Nagano for a concert in October 2025 and realized that she really likes this place. She then noticed a serendipitous online advertisement for a work-stay arrangement at 1166 which happened to start the day after her current accommodation ended. She’s been in Nagano, staying at 1166 ever since, and still loving it.
Generous had a day off, and I wanted to check out some of the cafes in Nagano, so we went to Hirano coffee. In Japan a different kind of cafe is prevalent compared to what’s common in the States. I think they have imported a cafe culture from Europe, one that’s about relaxing, socializing, soaking up the vibes/music. No, not like Starbucks. Though that’s the brand’s stated aspiration, small Japanese cafes do it so much better. I wish there were more cafes like this back home.
The cafe culture in Nagano seems to be particularly good. In recent years, there’s been an exodus of young people from Tokyo to smaller cities that are accessible to Tokyo via train, such as Nagano. The young people come here to escape the stress and lack of community in Tokyo. They find old disused buildings, fix them up, often in a very DIY fashion, and use them for community-oriented projects.
Generous has always wanted to study foreign languages and learn about other cultures. She got a bit sidetracked in high school and college. An interest in preserving the natural environment led her, interestingly enough, to become a lumberjack for a spell. Now that she’s at the guesthouse she’s finally getting to follow her original dream.
Generous introduced me to sauce katsudon, a style of pork katsu that is only found in specific parts of Japan, such as Nagano.
Then we went sake tasting. A kid — let’s call him Blue — poured samples of the sake on offer, with Generous serving as my translator for Blue’s commentary. I asked Blue if he’s tried all of the sakes. He said he got to have one free tasting, during the job interview, but that’s it, and — as a college student — he can’t afford the sake he sells. He seemed a little bummed about it. We told him about our guesthouse, which is practically next door to this sake shop, and asked if he’d like to come over. I added that I’ll crack open whatever sake I buy today to share with him.
Blue, Generous and I outside the sake shop.
Generous and I then went to a gallery showing art by a local Nagano city-based artist. Wonderful use of colors depicting natural scenes verging on the abstract. Generous had been volunteering in the art gallery’s cafe the day before.
Blue was able to make it that same night before catching the train. We had a grand ol' time playing cards and sipping sake. Generous made Blue some yakisoba for dinner. Yoroshiku Blue! And good luck in your studies!
Deep Field
Generous and I visited “deep” Nagano — an area where tourists don’t go and there’s no English. An eastern cord melody echoed down the street, letting the neighborhood know of the availability of baked sweet potatoes. Up ahead, a red lantern followed behind a cart being pulled by bicycle, the source of the music.
We came to an izakaya (Japanese pub) run by a friendly husband and wife duo. They and their other patrons were excited to hear that I was visiting from San Francisco. They remarked that I must find it cold for me in Nagano. I said I like it.
We ordered the baked chicken gyoza, at the recommendation of one of the other patrons. We were both surprised when what looked like regular chicken wings came out, but when we bit in we discovered they had somehow put the gyoza filling under the skin. Next, we ordered the bamboo shoot boiled with soy sauce and thin slices of pork interleaved in the layers of the bamboo. The croquettes were made of potato salad. Rounded it out with a nice bowl of spicy pickled wasabi stems and flowers, paired with a vase of warm sake. I forgot to take photos, so you’ll have to use your imagination. I think this might be my favorite meal I’ve ever had in Japan. Thank you Generous for being my guide!
Matsumoto Castle
I took the train to Matsumoto, about an hour south of Nagano. On the train, I leaned over to the woman sitting across from me in the aisle and said in Japanese “Um, excuse me but my Japanese is very good.” She laughed and said her English is better. She was from Vietnam, it turned out. To explain the layers of humor a bit, she might have for a split second thought here’s another Japanese assuming I’m Japanese. Also, in Japan, it’s rather cringe to brag or boast about yourself. Finally, my Japanese is not very good, and I think that’s fairly obvious.
She said she’s here to see snow. I inquired further and she said she likes to eat snow. I said she should write reviews of where the tastiest snow can be found in Japan. We saw some snow capped mountains and I said The snow up there looks tasty, eh?
In Matsumoto, I got some CoCo curry. I asked for enough curry to sustain me through the shop’s entire collection of One Piece comics.
I got to page 3.
There was a street with loads of frogs.
Finally made my way to the castle. There was a stand at the entrance to the castle park where I met with who would be my volunteer guide, an elder denizen of Matsumoto. He explained that in the Edo period, the castle extended out from the castle building in 3 successive, moat and wall-secured layers. Beyond the outer layer lived the regular folks of Matsumoto, farmers and craftspeople, as well as some low ranking samurai. The first layer was the exclusive domain of lords and high ranking samurai. The second layer was purely defensive. Beyond that was the interior of the castle which held the castle building (pictured below) the palace, stores of grain and ammunition, and administrative offices. The lord did not normally hang out in the castle building, a defensive structure full of turrets for muskets and arrows, preferring instead his palace. If the lord was in the castle, it was probably because he expected defeat and was preparing to commit seppuku.
My guide was excited to tell me about the moon viewing room, the adjoining room on the right with red paint. The lord of Matsumoto had it built to invite the shogun over for a moon viewing party, but for some reason, the shogun couldn’t make it. The party went ahead anyway. It was said that you could view three moons: The actual moon in the sky, the reflection in the moat, and the reflection in the cup of sake. If you drank enough sake, you would see stars, too. Sounds like a great party!
I also got to see the creaking polished wooden interior of the castle and climb up the extremely steep stars from floor to floor and check out their collection of old Japanese firearms. Photos were prohibited so you’ll have to use your imagination.
I was at a bar with an automatic door that kept opening on its own. The bartender and I were joking about it being a ghost. Only she didn’t know the word ghost so I drew a ghost in my notebook. She used a long Japanese word that I wish I remembered, but it basically seemed like a name of a ghost like-entity from Japanese folklore.
Nagano Chillin'
Breakfast with the other guests.
This place is stunning, y’all.
What beer should I try? If you have thoughts hmu!
A Sunday evening in Nagano
Back at the hostel, I met some fellow travelers: Devon from Toronto and Oscar from Brighton. We decided to go in search of some dinner. On Oscar’s recommendation, we headed for a nearby sushi restaurant.
We reflected that one of the things we love about Japan is that everyone is so passionate about what they do. Here in Japan, a job isn’t just something you do so you can pay your bills or build wealth. A job offers belonging, purpose, dignity, being a part of something larger than yourself. This applies equally to everyone, from the prime minister to a clerk at 7-11.
It might be controversial, but if I may be excused for getting on my soapbox for a paragraph, think a bit of this attitude could be good medicine in the West. Not that we should all become corporate shills or enthusiastic capitalists, but I think sometimes there’s some narcissism and cynicism masquerading as high ideals around the subject of work and careers, especially on the political Left. “I’m too special and brilliant for this boring, utilitarian job, but nonetheless here I am because I gotta pay rent. Now what do you want??” I admit I’ve had thoughts like this, at least. For this to work, this attitude would need to pervade all levels of a company, from the lowest employees and contractors up to the owners and executives.
Anyway, the sushi was Oishii!
On the way back we stopped at a grocery store. I grabbed some curry for breakfast in the morning.
Back at the guest house, we played Uno with other guests, using it as an opportunity to practice Japanese colors and numbers, then I got to bed at a reasonable hour.
Sunday morning coming down in Nagano
It was Sunday morning so I took myself to church. I met the priests, monks and fellow laypeople, apparently all Japanese, on the Zenkōji (Buddhist) temple grounds at 7am. Thank god and Buddha for vending machines that vend hot items which kept my hands from freezing off on the walk over.
I was freezing my ass off, and loving it!
From the meeting point, the priests led us in a drumbeat procession through the central gate and into the temple itself. The laypeople, including myself, sat in rows on the tatami mat floor in front of the inner sanctum, the exclusive domain of priests and monks.
I don’t have any photos from inside the temple because photography is forbidden. The holy men led us in some songs. They were a bit different than what I’m used to, tonality wise, but I still felt called back to being in Christian church somehow. At a certain point, a veil at the front was lifted, revealing… some stuff, I can’t honestly remember. There was a lot to visually parse. But the woman I talked to at the information booth after the service said that somewhere back there, there’s an extremely sacred solid gold sculpture depicting Buddha flanked by Bodhisattva. It’s so sacred that even its replica is too sacred to be seen by lay eyes except for a once a year matsuri, which was not today.
Back to the service, at a certain point, we laypeople were led to an underground passage. The man who led us to the entrance said to keep our right hands on the wall as we walked single file so that we might rub the belly of the Buddha. Then we walked into utter darkness. I was blind as I walked with my other hand in front of me so I wouldn’t bump into the person in front of me. Eventually, somewhere between 5 minutes and eternity, we emerged on the other side of the temple and walked back to our places on the tatami. The woman at the information booth explained that in feudal times, the less fortunate came from around Japan to Zenkoji to ask the gods to allow them, after death, to escape their caste assignment and be taken to the pure land. It was said that in the underground passage there was a key, and whoever found it would be able to escape then and there. At the very least, taking part in a ritual symbolizing death and rebirth would be spiritually cleansing.
For my first meal after being reborn, I had some oyaki dumplings on the commercial corridor in front of the temple.
I also had coffee with a samurai. I walked into a little French cafe and ordered a cappuccino. A man sitting at the other table pointed at the handle of my umbrella sticking out of my bag. The waiter asked me about it and I pulled it out. Its handle was styled to look like a katana. They both laughed when they saw what it was. The waiter said the man is a 93 year-old samurai master. He was showing another customer how to break a hand hold. Just then, I threw myself on the ground in front of the nonagenarian samurai and implored him to allow me to become his student. Or maybe I should have, for the plot.
I forgot to take a photo having my first sip, that’s why the art is a bit wonky.
The Nagano Art Museum had a Moomin and Tove Jansson exhibit visiting from Helsinki, and it was just around the corner, so I had to go see that.
And that was my Sunday morning in Nagano!
Let's go to Nagano!
I was too happy to be an insomniac in Tokyo. The city is is a siren that constantly bids me to do and see just one more thing. My sleep deprivation was catching up to me, so my scheduled escape came just in time. But first, just one more thing…
I found an old volunteer fireman’s jacket in an antique shop. It looked so cool but it wasn’t that comfortable or functional so I just took a photo with it and put it back. I did buy a kind of traditional jacket worn at onsen, though. I asked the proprietors of the shop about good coffee nearby and they sent me to Nook.
They did not let me down!
The area around Sensoji temple was poppin'. Compare with its emptiness around midnight a couple nights ago.
I finally found the Ninja bar when I wasn’t looking for it. There’s an underground street near Asakusa station. I think it wasn’t open the other night, that’s why it eluded me. Sadly, it was closed.
When I reemerged to the above ground, it was snowing. Pretty hard, actually. I was glad I had splurged on a katana err, umbrella at the museum the other day. It was approaching whiteout conditions when I reached Ueno station. Fortunately, the white guy got on the train to Nagano before the snowfall could interfere.
I arrived at Nagano and found my way to my accommodations, 1166 Backpackers. The host let me in and invited me to unburden myself of my bags anywhere I liked. She brought me some warm barely tea and a booklet with information about the hostel. She also got a paper map of Nagano and, asking about my trip, circled places on the map that might interest me. After she showed me to my bed, I took a shower and went to bed. It was about 6pm.
A Friday night in Tokyo
I found a hip hop dance class meetup. I looked up how to get there with Apple Maps. An hour and a few buses and trains later, I was in a suburban area near Saitama. I asked some passersby for help, showing them the address on my phone. The place I was trying to get to was actually in Ikebukuro, not anywhere near I was now. It had already taken me some effort and time to find my way to this outer neighborhood. I had to ask for help from a few people before that. One guy was kind enough to walk me around a bus station to help me find the stop I needed. I was already late and there was no way I was going to get there before the end via public transit, so I hailed a taxi. I finally got there, asking for help a few more times on the way, with about 30 minutes left in the class. The other students had already been drilling a particular routine for almost an hour. Undaunted, I jumped in and tried to do what everyone else was doing.
In this video I was mirroring the guy in front of me, but he got the steps in the wrong order so we both got out of sync.
A heartfelt thanks to all the Tokyoites who helped the poor lost foreigner.
After class, the students and the instructor went to a nearby konbini to get some adult beverages and hang out in the park. Friendly folks. The instructor said they usually go to an izakaya after class but tomorrow he’s going skiing near Kanazawa so he needed to get home to get some rest.
After we parted ways, I decided to check out a place my friend recommended: Night cafe OTTA. A few more trains and an hour later (I took some wrong turns) I finally found the cafe, but alas I didn’t have a reservation. Dejected but determined to have some fun, I surveyed the other night life options. I squeezed in to a tiny hooka karaoke bar full of other hakujin. They were complaining about the state of international relations vis a vi America and he who shall not be named. I sang American Idiot by Green Day. I wanted to find a more Japanese place, so I bid the gaikokujin farewell and kept wandering. I heard some echos of laughter outside a building with a dozen or so places on different floors. I wandered around until I found a door where the laughter seemed the loudest (the doors to Japanese-style bars are generally kept closed) and walked in.
They seemed pleasantly surprised to see a hakujin stroll in and gestured toward a seat at the bar. There were a few Japanese patrons on my left and a few on my right, and a few Japanese women behind the bar. One of the women behind the bar, an international relations student at the nearby university named Koume, asked where I’m from.
“San Francisco” I said.
“Ehhhhhhhhhhhh?? I want to go to San Francisco!” Koume’s English is much better than average. I was mixing in what Japanese I knew, but it was mostly for my own practice and so the other people could understand me. Koume always understood my English. “But the yen” she pointed down and frowned. Another reminder to be grateful that I’m able to travel like I am.
I started telling her about all the things to do and see and eat in The City. I also explained that we only have a few distinct transit systems, as opposed to the several operators in Tokyo, where I’m constantly getting confused and turned around in the stations.
“Ah, so simple!” She confided that even she often has difficulty navigating the train stations in Tokyo.
The people to my right were opening champagne to celebrate a birthday, and they poured me a glass.
They were excited to hear about my travel itinerary in Japan. One of them said she’s from Nagano. They said Kanazawa is amazing but the Osaka is just like Tokyo. They cautioned me that it would be cold in Nagano, and by the way were you not cold tonight in what you’re wearing now? I said that I like being cold. They seemed flabbergasted by that, so it became a sort of running joke where I just kept insisting that I enjoy being chilled. I do indeed prefer being a bit too cold than sweating because it’s a bit too hot. I explained that’s why I had to get out of Florida. Koume told me about her waterski trip to Pensacola.
I was having so much fun bantering with Koume that I hardly noticed when the other patrons left. I could sense that the other bartenders were starting to do their closing tasks, so I thanked them for a wonderful time and connected with Koume on Instagram. I hope you make it to the City by the Bay some day!
Last Samurai
I got energized for my day at a kawaii little cafe. The server recommended the grilled mochi wrapped in nori. Had some sweet potato pancakes for dessert.
I noticed a “Samurai Ninja Museum and Experience.” TripAdvisor said it’s legit, so I bought a ticket. The experience started with a spirited and engaging guided tour of the museum’s collection of real Samurai swords and armor. Did you know that a big reason why Samurai wore masks, often sporting mustaches, was that many of these Samurai were as young as ten years old! The masks hid their youth so their subjects and enemies wouldn’t know they were dealing with a child.
The tour concluded with a look at Ninja, the sometimes accomplices, sometimes enemies of the Samurai. The Ninja were more of spies than warriors, and their martial arts focused on survival and distraction. The throwing star, for instance, was more often used to create a distraction than as a weapon. Then we got throw the stars ourselves! There was a competition to see who had the best aim (not me.) The winner got a free throwing star.
The stars were made of plastic, by the way.
I also got to dress up as a samurai!
I enjoyed the tour so much that I decided to also partake in their swordsmanship class, taught by a hereditary samurai and guy you would not want to pick a fight with, unless you have a death wish. He let each student pick out their own (real) katana, taught us how to safely sheath and unsheath them, and led us in some drills. As I was standing there with my katana, watching the instructor, I reflected that I never had to sign any waiver. This would never fly in a more litigious society… The class concluded with 1 on 1 combat. But not before trading in our katana for foam sticks. Did you know that when Samurai would hold their swords up parallel to the ground while looking for enemies, they would use their swords as rear-view mirrors?
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Later, I was walking around the vicinity of Sensoji temple, and at one of the stalls a woman was offering target practice with realistic metal throwing stars. I took her up on it. Once again, no waiver, and not even any safety spiel. You just hope that the stranger you’re handing the weapon to doesn’t have criminally bad aim, I suppose. Or maybe she was a ninja herself…
Asakusa
It was after my bedtime in local time, but I’d just arrived so I decided to go explore a bit. I come to a tall, flashy, illuminated structure. No, not Skytree, but Don Quioxote. A marque outside reads “Amusement discount shop.” Inside is like Trader Joe’s crossed with Wal-Mart crossed with a study of human sensory overload. So I go in because I realize I need a few things.
Equipped and amused, I started to wander around. The rest of the neighborhood is quiet. Most businesses are closed. People seem to be heading home. I walk by a tiny bar with a few patrons inside. Then I stumble upon Senso-ji, a Buddhist temple in heart of Asakusa.
I wandered around a bit, the tranquility of the temple grounds giving me whiplash from having been in Don Quioxote minutes ago. A group of people go up and face the doors (above) stand shoulder to should, clap twice then bow.
I walk around a bit more, kinda feeling like I’m in a dream. The street suddenly transitions into the thoroughfare of an outdoor shopping mall. All the stalls are closed.
Okay, you’re right, I should go get some sleep, I thought as I came upon an imploring figure. I went back to the ryokan and zonked out.
Thursday
I set out to find some breakfast along Kappabashi-dori, a street that a guide book said was a culinary scene, but nothing was open yet, so I go back to 7-11
Kappabashi, why do you taunt me so?
This street is associated with a kappa said to have assisted with the construction of rainwater management infrastructure that prevents Kappabashi from flooding during the rainy season. Here’s an artist’s rendition of the kappa
And another interepretation:
For lunch, I went to a ramen shop I found on Tabelog called Min Mitsui. I had the Shyou with pork belly, lotus, bamboo shoot, and a marinated egg. Oishii
For dinner, I met up with someone for conveyor belt sushi in Kawaguchi, Saitama. I had only met her via video call before, via some mutual friends. From Japan, she went to high school and college in the states, and now lives in Kawaguchi and runs an English language school while raising her daughter. We talked about what we like about each others' birth country, the foods, the media, the lifestyles and less tangible assets. Maybe it’s a grass is always greener thing, but she did live in my country for several years, while I’ve only been to her country for several weeks. It was good to hear a locals perspective on this place, it reminded me that I’m privileged to be able to travel like this.
Side note: the trip from central Tokyo to Saitama, a whole different prefecture, cost less than $5 US.
Back at the hotel, I started to fall asleep but then rallied to go out. I wound up at a beer bar called Beerzilla run by some English folks. I got some intel on nightlife, there’s a fun ninja themed bar near Asakusa station. True to its theme, that place completely eluded me. I wound up in a bar playing old American vinyl. A couple of older Japanese men at the bar, tended to by a more senior Japanese man. They welcomed me to the bar and I had a beer. Fortunately the man next to me could speak English well, so he served as my translator. They were pleased to learn that I was American. The bartender asked me what I think about Trump with a mischievous grin. I’m just like “yeah…” and we laugh. They were a jovial bunch. They asked me where I’m staying. I said it’s a ryokan and then give the name. They laugh because it’s actually not a true ryokan because they don’t have an onsen or serve breakfast. They’re like that’s just a hotel. I knew it was lacking some of the features of other ryokan, but apparently those are essential features. My “ryokan” does have tatami mats, that’s gotta count for something.
Q & A
How long will I be in Japan?
Until I leave on the 3rd of March, unless I opt to change my flight.
What level is my Japanese?
I can string a few useful words together and understand some key words, but once it goes beyond a toddler’s Japanese, I’m lost. Will be interesting to see if I can noticeably improve in a month…
What’s my itinerary?
I’ve sketched out an itinerary that will take me from Tokyo to Nagano, possibly stopping for a few hours at Nikko on the way. After that, it’s Kanazawa, Osaka, and back to Tokyo. I’ll probably make some day trips Kanazawa and Osaka to nearby cities and points of interest.
Arrival
Landed at Narita at 2 AM PST / 8 PM JST, my third visit to Japan. I decided to take the “sky access” train in to town because of the many options for getting from Narita, that one was cheap and fast enough, but when I got to the counter, I accidentally said “skyliner.” No biggie, though, it goes to Tokyo a bit faster for a bit more yen. Perhaps it was for the best because I would need to arrive at my accommodation before 10 or else wait until 10 the next morning to drop off my bags.
I’d rather be overwhelmed than underwhelmed when it comes to public transit.
I managed to get to my ryokan (traditional hotel) before the end of the check-in window with only minor incident: At Ueno station I needed cash to buy fare for the metro, but the ATM there didn’t like my debit card. Eventually I tried my credit card and that worked. Hope I’m not charged any exorbitant fees for using my credit card at an ATM in Japan…
My room at the ryokan. All mine, all 50 sq feet!
For my first meal, I made a bee line to the 7-eleven and got some sandos and a salad. Healthy and economical. After I finish writing this I’ll see what’s going on around here on a Wednesday evening.
So, why am I here again?
I can’t give one simple reason. My motivation to do anything is usually multifaceted and this is no exception…
Is it possible to fall in love with a place? Not anything specific about it, just the place itself? I can’t say exactly what it is, but I feel something like love. If I had to give a reason, maybe it’s the richness and depth of the culture. Maybe it’s the way they generally treat customers and guests with so much care. Maybe it’s the dynamic landscapes of lush mountains and blue waters crisscrossed by bullet trains. Maybe it’s the public transit, the convenient lifestyle possible in Tokyo, the availability and affordability of healthy food…
I’m looking forward to seeing how well I can deploy what I’ve learning about the language and culture. It’s an intellectual and spiritual as well as geographical adventure.
Finally, immanent long-term travel makes me appreciate my normal day to day life. Without such a break planned, it’s too easy to slip into mindless routines, subconsciously killing time. Here I feel like a bumbling neophyte. I have to stop and think about almost everything…