paralogue.org

Table of Contents

• Tokyo -> Osaka
• Osaka II (Hep 5)
• Osaka III (Sumiyoshi Taisha)
• Osaka IV (Castle, Hep 5 Ferris Wheel)
• Kobe
• An intermission: designs
• Kyoto
• Osaka V (Yodo River)
• Kushimoto
• Nachi Waterfall
• An intermission before Side B
• Kinosaki (The onsen episode)
• Fukuoka --「それは愛じゃない。」
• Osaka VI (Sick in the city edition)
• Osaka VII (Denden Town)
• Nara
• Yoshino
• Tokyo
• Postscript

I feel like writing about the month in more longform style, so I figured I'd do so in a thread. That said, I've been awake for over a day straight, so this first post might be a bit more brief than I'd intend. I want to flag beforehand that I welcome ongoing commentary and replies! It's not a read-only thread.

Before

I played it super loose. I didn't look up anything I needed, anything I would need to prepare with; and in a lot of ways Rebecca (traveling with me) has saved my skin. It's because of her we noticed you can't really bring injectable medication, and so I left some stuff at home. I also just ensured I only had a month of my meds all around. You can get around this by just emailing ahead of time and getting a certificate. We just really didn't have time, and I didn't think it was that big of a deal just leaving some meds at home.

I ended up sleeping on Rebecca's couch the night before -- maybe only really got three hours of sleep. I remember dreaming about having my arms used as a skin graft for something else; my arms were more like a skin flap stapled together over scabs where they continually formed grafts.

Security was easy, as usual. We just waited for the flight, did our QR code processing customs and immigration beforehand (I also didn't know this was a thing) and got eSIMs. I tried to. My phone does not seem to like them. I shrugged it off and figured I'd get it when I got there.

The flight itself

Thirteen and a half hours. Nonstop from Montreal to Tokyo, for some reason? We cut straight through the country, up through Nunavut, the Territories, and Alaska, before diving down a bit to avoid Russian airspace. Most of the time it was dark.
We got dinner, a snack, and breakfast about equally spaced out, presumably planning for us to eat dinner, immediately sleep, and then get up with Tokyo. I was completely incapable of sleep.

What did I do instead? I journalled a bit, read a bit. I watched a lot of The Sopranos. We saw Hail, Caesar! at the very start of the flight. I kept trying to sleep, but for whatever reason I just couldn't get in a position where I could easily do it. It felt like a marathon, because, well, I basically sat down for what's normally a full day of consciousness, knowing another day was about to arrive.

Getting in

Lines and lines and lines and lines. Lines circling around lines around lines. We got fingerprinted, scanned, photographed. No questions at immigrations or customs, just quietly stamping our stuff, but getting to that gate was itself a bit of a trip. We left Montreal in like 20 degree weather. It is still 35 in Tokyo. It does not let up. At the same time, the humidity doesn't quite feel brutal.
We got onto a train heading for our first hotel -- we're spending one night in Tokyo, maybe getting some clothes, then preparing for Osaka. I couldn't help but notice the slow sunset creeping on us. I kept trying to take photos without looking like a weirdo. I felt really acutely aware -- I mean, you can't eat in public. Taking photos, even just outside, on the train, felt untenable. Oh well.
After about an hour and a half we got to our station. It's strange to turn around and boom! It's the Tokyo Tower.
We basically just dedicated ourselves to convenience store food tonight-- which honestly is both cheap and pretty good. You can eat a basic sandwich for CA$2.50 or something like that, 250ml cans are still $1.50. It basically just feels like the 90s or 2000s or whatever. We watched a bit of NHK -- flipping around the TV, seeing a strange game show give an animated documentary about Steve Jobs with little moe drawings of Woz and the like.

For now, I'm gonna pass out. It still feels a bit surreal, but maybe also very quickly another flavour of mundane? I don't know.

A travelogue!! on paralogue!!! im excited for the upcoming posts about your trip, maru! and I hope your journey from tokyo osaka is scenic

when i visited japan in 2018, after all that flying (18 hours for me) and line-waiting i was immediately assaulted by a woman with a microphone and a cameraman for some show where they ask foreigners about why they're coming to japan. i stood out with my freshly dyed red hair which is why I'm sure they targeted me, but I had been conscious for like 30+ hours so i don't think my interview was very interesting and i'm pretty sure it didn't get put on tv.

he he i hope you have a good time. i'm looking forward to following along.

I apparently walked about 20,000 steps today. It doesn't really feel like it? In the same way, it's apparently like 34 degrees, but it doesn't really feel like it. Certainly nobody dresses that way. It's full uniforms, long pants, sometimes even layers. Me? I came with barely any clothes at all; the ones I did have were loose, light. I expected summer weather, so I had athletic shorts, a tank top and a loose weeb shirt from my ex-gf.

In the period after our breakup I sort of bummed her fashion sense -- big T-shirt, no pants -- and I felt like it made me look younger. It's at least a lot more like you don't care. And I guess I didn't; I sort of neglected my appearance the last few years. It felt "unimportant". Rebecca led me to feel like I should care at least a little more -- so I decided I would get some clothes today.

But not yet

At least, a little later. When we were talking about this, it was like 0500. I had gotten up at 0230, showered (I missed you, lovely soft water ...) and felt basically ready to take on the day by then. She was already awake, too, so we decided to meander the neighbourhood.

We were right beside a pier to begin with, so we started heading there. The streets were completely deserted. There were barely any cars. No one was really going to work yet. The sky was this really pretty bluegray.
Honestly, the tone of the landscape being so affected by the sky was just one of many things that reminded me of Vancouver. The architecture reminded me of Vancouver. The mossy greens, the tile patterns in parks. As I said before, the soft water. There's a lot of JP ex-pats out there -- a lot of actual restaurants, Konbiniyas, etc -- so the food hasn't necessarily surprised me coming here in terms of flavour profile and options. But I get weirdly nostalgic for British Columbia now.

We wandered toward Tokyo Tower and ended up running into a huge Buddhist temple.
A light gong rang repeatedly. We didn't know what to do with ourselves as monks followed each other in, chanting. Some people would follow them in and sit down while they chanted and walked. It felt weird to photograph, so I didn't.

We left soon after and wandered back to the hotel for breakfast. It was mostly just tiny pastries, so we decided to try out the famously-different Denny's -- we passed it earlier and she was curious, so it felt like we should just go for it. Well, it was indeed different. You order from tablets, the music is a pleasant jazzy piano and nobody is talking. It is a downright solemn atmosphere.
Sipping from Dan-nyan's mugs and eating a "light breakfast" plate with 1 scrambled egg, 1 piece of bacon, a bowl of rice and miso soup -- coming to 374 cal? -- we didn't say much. We didn't even know how to leave the restaurant. Eventually it just seemed apparent that you get up and pay at the exit.

Now what? It wasn't even 0800 and it felt like it was getting towards noon. We decided to go back to the hotel room since checkout was at 1100. I ended up sleeping an hour or two and then we just decided to go do some shopping. We did need a coin purse -- we were collecting yen coins from breaking cash -- and I wanted clothes, a day bag, etc. The next stop was Don Quijote, which was just a bit of a walk from the hotel. We left our luggage in storage for the interim and went for it -- only to find it full of branded, moe paraphenelia at a bit of a markup.

I couldn't help myself. I got Flareon socks. I got a cute rabbit day bag. Paranoia Agent taught me nothing. I even got a world peace handkerchief.
Once out ... it started raining in full force. It was just a gentle drip here and there throughout the day, but it started coming down heavy. We found a Uniqlo and uh, I don't know. I bought a lot of clothes. Enough that I could make outfits that looked like anyone else on the street. Then we went to GU and did even more. I am not proud of my retail therapy. I do feel relatively good about what I got, even if it's a little tight and continues to remind me to lose weight. I do fit into women's medium fairly well now ...

We finally headed back to the hotel to get our bags and reconsolidate. I can fit everything well, but tightly -- so I will already need something a bit more substantial for the trip home. But it's only day 2 of 30. Ugh. Anyway, we got on the Shinkansen to Osaka eventually; it went by fairly fast. Kyoto looked really pretty as it went by. A lot of the foggy coast looked super nice as it went by. I got so curious about these places -- Nagoya has this entirely different feel from the outside. And Osaka, once we got there, felt pretty different.

People talk to each other a lot. The trains weren't dead silent at all anymore; just banter and jokes. It felt a bit more easygoing suddenly. The architecture is less shiny, it's a bit dirtier overall in some places, but it's also really peaceful and nice. And it was getting to be sunset kinda fast as we made the last few stops.
We wandered to our long-term stay ... which, I kinda forgot, was an entire house. It's an old house. It's a whole house. It's a house.
We got kinda stuck figuring out where it was -- it's in a laneway inside another laneway -- but an older man noticed us lost and pointed us to it, since it's like ... a private house that probably has a lot of people coming and going, I guess. After we got acquainted, I wandered the lanes a bit and just looked at all the Takoyaki and Okonomiyaki stands. Everyone seems to be having a nice time. No one speaks English anymore. I feel out of my element. I sort of get why this would be appealing, but I also get why this would be lonely. There's a lot to like, and a lot you can get tired of. The minor key boss-fight chimes at each train stop, the rules and manners that are just left unspoken but seem so loud. The entire world feels like a low-key gacha game in terms of graphic and sound diesign all day, every day. Americans would seem somewhat refreshing.

No idea what's next. We'll probably pick something and do it. For now ... I should probably help my body adjust and just conk out.

this is a nice read. traveling with you seems nice. you seem really calm and contemplative. i get like that when i travel alone, but when when i'm with others i usually can't even recall the small details. i wonder why that is?

are you shooting with a camera? the focal length tells me such. do you feel weird walking around with one? i'd think the japanese would be most icked about personal space or outright object to being photographed. it's so quiet, in those train cars. can you even get away with it?

Shopping? Again? Yeah ... kinda.

I thought we would go immediately for day trips, but Rebecca felt like it was better to get some bearings in the city, first. I did have some stuff I still needed -- I now had a day bag with tons of pockets and space, a lil notebook and pen, my camera, wallet, we have IC cards -- I also didn't come with any socks, so I've gradually just been filling out my wardrobe buying socks from the Family Mart one at a time. They actually have a lot of pretty decent clothes there for not that much money so it didn't feel weird, just convenient.

Anyway. I wanted sandals, she wanted a film camera, I could use a few hygenic items, so we figured we would go to a department store ... but then got detoured right out of Nakazakicho.
I have a hard time even finding this place on Google Maps. It's not the Tenjinbashi-suji street. It's some other place, here-ish, with a very similar setup. The stores are smaller, cheaper -- mix of local and tourists. There's a few cafes with gratuitous French and a lot of emphasis on the finest Melbourne coffee beans. I didn't even know Australia had a coffee scene.

As we made our way out of there and up some small side streets, a guy stopped buy on bike and pulled out Google Translate saying "Is there any prohibition against cannabis?" and it was hard to understand. Like, here? Yea. In Canada? No. In the States? Depends. Then he was like "oh, we are right by my house." so it was apparent we were invited to go smoke weed. Uhh.

We ran into this cool retro store as I tried to find those dresses that are two long sleeves in a front with a pseudo-jumper feel going on ... they had similar, but were cut for someone a bit shorter than me. Then we just sort of explored Hep Five for a bit. It was at least air conditioned inside, and it was hitting a humidex of 40 degrees even before noon.
The shirts often do this "polite explainer" thing. I saw this amazing looking shirt that explained what a MiniDisc was, but it was $50, and I don't know. That's a lot for a shirt.
Around 1700 we started heading home -- straight into rush hour. Then on our way out of the station it started sunshowering hard. Once home, uh ... well, I guess I slept for like twelve hours in my clothes. I wanted to go on the Ferris Wheel ...

meri wrote:

are you shooting with a camera? the focal length tells me such. do you feel weird walking around with one? i'd think the japanese would be most icked about personal space or outright object to being photographed. it's so quiet, in those train cars. can you even get away with it?

Just don't photograph, like, one distinct person, basically. Same as in Canada, in my opinion? Osaka train cars are more conversational but I try to avoid shooting in smaller spaces; in public, it's sort of whatever. The first few from the trip in from the airport was a nearly empty car.

I shoot with a Fujifilm XS10 with a single, fixed-length lens. I try to shoot at a 35mm equivalent and make myself compose the shot by moving around. I'm shooting straight JPG out of the camera, I don't really have the tools to process RAW onhand. It's just in my bag, and I take it out when the colours seem right. I tend to be more of a "colours and shapes" person rather than a ... "here's a thing" person. Sometimes a combination in abstract is pretty and I want to know if I can replicate it. Phone cameras usually can't get the colours right. I tried to capture the way the light was very slightly blue this morning and ... it's nowhere to be found.
As for behaviour, I don't know -- no one has reacted negatively at all to us. We seem abnormally polite for tourists ... I felt weird in the shops yesterday, people just pushing past me or making demands in other languages at store owners. I thought tourists would be formal, speak Japanese, make sure to thank everyone for their help or whatever. Not everyone is a weeb I guess.

edit: I just remembered another thing -- photography is actually happening a lot. We were shopping in a store and a girl went by with her phone on a selfie stick just ... Twitch streaming the whole store. Recording. Whatever. It was literally just narration of stuff as she browsed. It felt intense. Likewise, a lot of stores are just ... full blast playing anime music, store themes, overlapping with tons of signs for deals or promotions. It feels like sensory overload basically anytime you're in a store bigger than a mom-and-pop. There are times where things are really quiet. I like it when restaurants are just playing quiet little piano pieces, for example. And there are times where things are just way louder than I've ever experienced elsewhere. I'm still sort of feeling this distinction out.

loved reading this to wrap up my night, maru. the pictures are good. that covered street-mall area you couldnt find on the map looks really wonderful.

do you have any idea of the age of the house you are staying in? is it like, old old, or just old? lol you travelled crazy light, not even any socks?!

Do you think much about difference? It's all I can think about today. There's so many examples of "try this foreign thing" here, whether it's the Girl Scout uniforms at thrift stores, the vague English explainers on T-shirts, the Italian restaurants and especially the French that's littered everywhere ... there was a restaurant offering New York-style pork on rice, or something, and I just don't think New York is going to make a donburi better than Tokyo. When I am here, I want Japan to be itself. But when we are home, I think it's not unusual that you want to get away from yourself. "You"ness can feel like a cage, and it's not strange to want to be something else. At least a little bit, sometimes.

I can't help but think of Satoshi Kon a lot whenever I see the entertainment industry, the commercials, the music. His work had an emphasis on the pressure behind performance, whether it's literal or the mundane rituals in the day to day. At the same time I also see a lot of examples in media of characters being crushed on the pressure of the everyday ritual recouperating or else leaving entirely. The isekai genre takes on another meaning here, because of what "this world" means. It means being you. But being you is a bit of a tiresome thing.

We started the day in Amerikamura and then meandered into Dōtonbori. It was like immediately being thrown into a Times Square situation. Where'd all this stuff come from? How can so many shops be in this city? We just went shopping for like two days. I keep noticing girls holding hands, but apparently that just means something else here.
After going camera shopping (still nothing cheap enough to warrant purchase for either of us, but it's fun to look!), we went to our first Buddhist temple of the day in this same neighbourhood, of all places, where a tour guide led another dozen or so tourists in at the same time. Then we started heading into way more residential territory to hit this cafe, which seats at most 4 people and just has light jazz playing to a garden outlook. I start to wonder if Rebecca has a Ghibli fascination going on. Around this time I started to lose steam -- I got up at 6am, left house at 9am and it was like, 1pm or so. We were thinking about a midday nap before doing some evening stuff, but I started to feel like I just wanted to push past it.
We climbed up some steep stairs just around the corner and found another Buddhist temple, and paid our respects again. Then we went to Ebisuchō to head to Isshin-ji Temple and ended up wandering into a fancy restaurant by accident. The guys were like "you can sit with us if you want :)" continuing a trend of guys being forward here.

We paid our respects at the actual temple for our third time, then went even further out south to Sumiyoshi Taisha, a Shinto shrine and enormous garden. We got fortune charms and paid our respects to the sanjin. Four times! Ah ah ah.
It was getting to be kinda late but I didn't feel ready to go yet. For some reason each time we went to a temple I felt more and more energetic and the shrine itself exited to a huge park at the prettiest time of the day. So I said we should wander around some more.
Then after some shaved ice and onigiri we finally headed home. Meaning I've been on my feet for like 13 or so hours today. I feel pretty good overall. I've been trying to pace myself -- Rebecca has like equally packed days planned consistently, and we're supposed to go to Kyoto this weekend. I feel grateful; I find myself doing each day an amount I would've done spread out over a week, and like I'm being pushed to see how much energy I really have in order to get more out of each day here. It's fun to just say "what's over there?", go pick up another sports drink to keep your body moving and just go look. I got lost watching the light against empty chairs and then again watching kids chase each other with a bug net. I know there's a lot of pressure, but how can it still feel so ... healthy, culturally? How is it all these people came out to this park on a Thursday not to sit and gossip with food or listen to music or whatever, but just to have fun out here? I don't understand this; I feel like I live somewhere where we encourage ourselves to relax as a cultural maxim, and yet I have not felt this relaxed in a long time, just watching other people's lives go by against the sunset.

sinku wrote:

do you have any idea of the age of the house you are staying in? is it like, old old, or just old? lol you travelled crazy light, not even any socks?!

I didn't pack much. I thought I would bring nothing at all and then over the past few days realised what that literally meant. I wore an outfit here. I packed pyjamas. I packed underwear. That's all. I wasn't even going to bring a carry-on until my roommate insisted.

This is lovely to hear, I adore the photos.

re: guys being forward, like in a flirty way? does it feel like there's an expectation?

What IS over there?

If you happen to travel North I have a friend Id encourage you (request even) to bother

Another long day -- we ended up walking like 20km today overall. I know I meant to keep it to the travelogue, but some of you may have spotted me posting a picture here and there. I will not double post a photo, but expound upon this one.

We opened the day around 8am flat heading to a Shinto shrine uptown -- this one had a market inside of it, though I did not know what I would do with anything there. On our way there kids were headed to school, elderly people saying good morning -- and what felt like "welcome" though I am not sure the word. It is not the same word people use in restaurants. Realising that we had gone days without fruit or vegetables at all I wanted an apple, so we stopped by a market to get one. It was $3 per apple. It was okay, enormous forgettable Jonagolds.

Over the shrines the past few days I paid out my yen coins so much that I just ran out and had to start breaking bills at vending machines to get more. It was also at this point that I realised ... I forgot my SD card at home, so I was stuck with phone photography. Ah well.

We headed to another retro-styled cafe, though this one staffed with an older man who made his coffee with a siphon -- giving the appearance of a bunson burner. I really want one now... He was really friendly and apparently wanted us to come closer to chat with him but I did not understand that. He gave us postcards and Matsuri fans and showed us photos of him during Matsuri and in what seemed like Geisha attire. I did not know what to make of that. Luckily, Rebecca takes on the more outgoing persona and I get a bit more kuu, speaking softly and precisely but -- honestly, if you speak even a little Japanese then they just talk to you in full Japanese and you get lost anytime you go off script. I find this very lonely as a concept. I feel like I can't get to know anyone or go further than pleasantries. I try to show deference and respect, but I've never told anyone my name or where I am from.

Trying to pace ourselves we took a small transit trip and walked a little further toward Osaka Castle, which was maybe the most tourist-y of all the stuff we've seen so far. It feels like such a haunted place and yet it's just a fully renovated museum where you wear the samurai helmet and buy Naruto and fake katanas at the gift shop afterward. And don't get me wrong -- the gift shop is enormous. It's this whole other building. I kept being afraid that if I touched a particular old stone I would awaken some sort of restless spirit, but ... there's not that much that's old there to be found anymore. Just a Doubletree horizon line.
A few classes of Japanese gradeschoolers in yellow hats were walking around and one said hello to me and seemed pumped when I said hi back. When we left the castle another class was being escorted by teachers waving flags for each class. I decided to get in line with them and pretend I was also in school on a field trip.
We did that for a good ten minutes before they finally split away and we were left hanging in front of Q's Mall, around when it was lunchtime, so we stopped in for food there. I got this "Full Moon Burger" that was decked with orange mayo and a drippy fried egg. It was a surprisingly huge burger. We then decided instead of wandering an hour out of the city to a shrine up the mountain we would wait for its lantern festival in two more weeks and instead focus on the city proper, and so we went looking around at shops and stores and people.

After some vintage stores and an attempt to find Shin Rizumu CDs at a Tower Records (order only!) we walked all the way back to Hep Five which took 45 minutes or so. At least by 5pm it didn't feel so bad.

Rebecca was looking for -- well, let's not say it's school attire, but they definitely had school attire there. Apparently the shop sells "free uniforms" where you buy different colours for your afterschool or your weekend. I am 30 years old. I will never wear a seifuku and not look weird. Still. I thought about it.
Then we finally got to take the ferris wheel at sunset. No line, like $5 ... it was kind of scary, even though it was an extremely robust and steady trip. I guess I just never got that far up before, hanging in a little capsule.
I felt myself getting more and more energetic as the day went on, but I can't pin why. Around 9ish we decided to wind down and just get Family Mart dinners instead of a whole "sit in a laneway and hang out" experience. I'm not sure what's going on tomorrow -- I think lazing around Kobe? After today it's a harder ask to head out to Kyoto on a weekend. I hope I can write something a little more introspective soon -- I feel like so many things were happening today that all I have are sensory experiences, and yet -- what really happened? We saw things ... I felt happy and enlivened by so many people. I felt happy to be out that long and yet feeling like there was so much more to do and see. It feels like such a creative place, but I can't put my finger on why. Maybe it's just inspiring, right now.

Pogckets wrote:

If you happen to travel North I have a friend Id encourage you (request even) to bother

How far north? We played with the idea of Hokkaido but it feels less likely now. Though the thought of the weather being less punishing is tantalising...

maru wrote:

Pogckets wrote:

If you happen to travel North I have a friend Id encourage you (request even) to bother

How far north? We played with the idea of Hokkaido but it feels less likely now. Though the thought of the weather being less punishing is tantalising...

Warning: This is a whinier post than usual. But in the interest of logging my general feeling as I go...

We decided to visit Kobe today. It seems like the next week looks more like a quieter weekend before doing Kyoto SIDE A and a full tour of southern Kansai villages. My friend Alice will be in town -- she has said she's willing to come with. So it will be a Bonding Exercise with Dubious WiFi. We also think we might, in fact, end up doing a tour west to Hiroshima and Fukuoka(?!) after my birthday, which ... incidentally is the start of Tsukimi this year, so I will be at a fancy ryokan in an onsen town for a festival...

It's overwhelming. Right? I felt really aware of what it means to be a "tourist" today -- as someone who has never done so much in so little time, it's taken me a second to realise this is what tourism is. You spend a bit too much, you see a lot of stuff, you overwhelm yourself with life. I always visited places in a more sleepy way. I organised myself around seeing friends, not having experiences. Alice said Japan is the best honeymoon country just because it has more stuff than anywhere else in the world. I really feel that lately.

It's been more processing lately about "home", "work", "the right profession," "the right lifestyle," "the right place."
Jesus Christ was the boss of all until 1992. Then a new man came in...

I felt really aware of just ... how you can just live a certain way. That is to say, like New York, Japan is a place that existed in pictures, seemingly only in Google Street View and as reference pictures for the Anime World. The architecture is uncanny; the density is familiar, the foods are themselves places I've seen. It's all been real to me, but not like this.
I guess this is what the honeymoon phase is. I started to feel almost resentful for home for all the things we don't do. We don't encourage each other to be presentable, we don't carry handkerchiefs, we don't treat aesthetics as anything particularly paramount in even just everyday graphic design, we don't have drawings in advertising, we don't teach each other about world history or biology as part of the news or regular programming with ad-hoc illustrations and cosplay; we don't really care about high speed rail, or have venues playing shows with 5 local bands for like $20 several times a week; and we don't have canned coffee and we don't set up restaurants in laneways and even just being able to set up a tiny cafe in the nests of some quiet neighbourhood labyrinth is seemingly impossible to do. And why not?!

I want our density to be 10x what it is. I want to feel as alive as I do here, wherever that is. And I can't tell if it's just the novelty, the movement or just how creative it feels. I feel like where I am, in Montreal, is the best place in the country for everything I want in life. I just now wonder about the country itself. You know?

My relationship with this particular culture was always something of a guilty pleasure. Hearing Japanese just immediately put me in a happy place in Vancouver. And in some ways, hearing French makes me feel like I've come home. But I'm really aware now that I would never belong here. It's fine to visit. People are welcoming -- but only insofar as you don't get the idea that you settle here. It's nihongo jouzu and we nod bashfully and appreciatively and we go home. I don't want to be the only force that tries to make my own home something that I am proud of. I feel sad that I don't want to embrace my own home that way. I feel confused as to whether I should reform it, or reform myself, or embrace that my own appreciation of this culture is probably just a part of me. I feel conflicted, I guess is what I mean. We walked around Osaka yesterday night and crossed this enormous bridge looking out at the water and the houses and we both felt like ... it felt really possible, it felt desirable, to imagine what life would be like here, even though we knew it was not something that could feasibly happen. I briefly looked at visas today and thought about it and it felt like it just didn't make sense, but I couldn't find a way to take the things I like about here and bring it home, and I couldn't think of where else to go. I feel like I am supposed to just like my home.
Command spell: Je suis l'Immaculee Conception

So. We visited Kobe today. And we did not have the beef; we climbed hill after hill to go through three shrines, as I, the androgynous bodyguard, accompanied my friend on a purification quest (she's actually just getting illustrations for each shrine in a big book and ... also, stamps from basically everywhere that offers commemorative stamps).
We found a cafe with two floors that had more of a laptop culture and continued to eat sandwiches, which are the main food you will ever find at a cafe, unless it's trying to be an American cafe in which case you'll get pastries there. I mostly just miss, like, a good Americano. I drink a lot of canned coffee here and have a lot of cafe coffee and it has a specific taste; it's its own thing. It's thin, mellow stuff that doesn't feel all that caffeinated. It's sweeter by default.

We then went looking through record stores and I found a whole bunch of stuff that would've been pretty hard to find otherwise, and some of it for weirdly cheap (internally I note that some of these are 20 or 40 years old or whatever and yet it feels current. This is how my dad felt playing Depeche Mode and The Smiths in 2003.). Both stores had pretty big Western sections and there was a few stores that referenced The Beatles. We also found a much cheaper camera store where I avoided spending too much on an aesthetically pleasing vlogcam.
Then we decided to call it a little early. We headed back before doing some time in a tiny izakaya in one of the laneways behind our house, serving a lot of Okinawan cuisine, where I had a particularly bitter yakisoba. This is apparently a type of fruit. And then I showed Rebecca episode 1 of Excel Saga because I reference it a lot and it's a source of nostalgia and comfort for me. I'm realising just how fully booked we are the entire next month and I hope I can continue to use it to feel out what changes I want to make in my own life, if any -- or if I'm just feeling the usual cycle while I'm here on a hit parade of pretty things.

Still. The busyness, the heat, the movement. It's soothing to be pure doing.

I did not take many photos today. It was meant to be a relaxation day before going to Kyoto, then it became just as busy as the other days usually are with wandering around. And now Kyoto tomorrow seems uncertain -- it's supposed to be 37 degrees before humidity, and we expect a bit less air conditioning during the day to ward off heat stroke.

So, all in all today we went cafe hopping, trying one near the river where two people were either on an awkward date speaking basic Japanese or a language exchange session; then trying one where it is the "#3 coffee beans in Japan" with a bit more seating space; then trying another one that serves specialty coffee imports. I had Americanos over and over but it all sort of tasted like drip coffee. Slightly sour, a bit thin, no cream on the top from oils. Yeah yeah, I sound like a coffee snob asshole, but so far, I like the Boss the most. I'd even take not coffee -- Georgia Coffee.

Then Rebecca went to get souvenirs, so we went through vintage shops and book stores and stationery departments. I keep seeing this Metacil device that appears to be a pencil that is always sharp and not quite a pencil, made by ... Bandai Namco.

You see Bandai Namco everywhere, by the way -- they run the Gacha machines for other brands in all the malls here, and they get practically two floors in Hep Five to themselves. The top floor is just cosplay rental and literally legions of girls get together to cosplay together on the weekend.

There's a lot of little things I haven't mentioned because in the sensorium flurry thoughts come and go and get vaguely internalised as a broader question. I wanted to just do a grabbag today to help catch some interesting things. Nothing is universal, I guess -- just how things have been in the week I've been here.

• Go to an indie record or book store and it's the Beatles (specifically Revolver and earlier?), Nick Drake, Beach Boys, that sort of scene. Go to a bar and it's uh, light lounge-y jazz. Hole in the wall izakaya plays El Scorcho, hey why not. Cafes either play Japanese indie or, like, 00s-present American stuff. We heard a lot of Shaggy and Pitbull in the one cafe. There's an ongoing sense of having aspects of Western culture filtered through to here -- a refraction, distilling aesthetics until it's soft and beautiful. Americana has never been so cool. You get full denim and army jackets like it's candy. Likewise -- what can I say? We refract Japan, too -- the bands I like are not necessarily the most common here; a lot of the more gauche or loud things are less apparent from far away.
• Department stores and "Welcome to Japan!" outlets alike -- anything where there's tourists -- have a plethora of Japanese pop culture artifacts just mixed together with Shinobi attire and fake katanas and like, shinto wards. There's a Blue Eyes White Dragon decking the windows outside the centre in the Osaka Castle. There's Totoro, Pokemon and Sanrio character paraphenelia in very disparate outlets, and the same stuff, too. It's not restricted to IP -- everyone licenses out to each other and it's presented as one Mass of Japanese culture for export. Interestingly it's not necessarily true that Shonen Jump stuff is universally available. Dragon Ball is an exception. Also Chucky stuff and Minions stuff. I can't think of strong Canadian analogues, besides having Roots stuff available everywhere and maple syrup and stuff.
• Family Mart has saved my life so many times. 24 hours, like every 50m, including clothes, food, notebooks and pencils, little hygenic stuff. I have a Family Mart handkerchief in its famous colours. It is a treasure to me, now. Their socks are stronger than the socks I went out and bought from a regular store.
• Speaking of -- I've gestured to this before, but carrying around a handkerchief is cool and I don't know why we don't do it anymore. It's just handy. My day bag has my camera, wallet, a Yen coin purse, a handkerchief, a notebook and pen, and my IC card.
• I've eaten so much toast. I've eaten so many light sandwiches. It's harder to get greasy food unless it's a bar atmosphere or an American import. It's usually pretty light stuff. I feel kinda full anyway, though.

Here is a gay-friendly water bottle.
Here is an ominous retirement home thing:
Finally, I also want to share some examples of cool designs and colour usage (including a bit from today's bookstore trip):

yeah maru ge t that gay water

Tall buildings and bustle and heat ... energy ... I think there is a broad recognition among ppl our age, of some lack, and from that a desire for greater density in the US and UK. I hope something happens that makes it real, some building boom or massive expansion.

I am so seriously tempted by the HTML/CSS and Python book with the girls.

The soft American is fascinating, especially the army jackets -- I got a very post-M95 or w/e jacket aesthetic because of Mote, seeing that as regular fashion is neat.

As a person whose never visited Japan: I think one thing I've seen talked up about Japan that sounds lovely is how w/e combination of geopgrahy culture and policy mean lots of neat specialist shops, there was a great story about someone just walking to one and asking about Tower of Duraga level early RPG lore and the guy working there just phones up his friend and gives him some tidbits never written down. I feel like the US has that but not to that extent. Hopefully I'm not hijacking the thoughts !

JennyDog wrote:

Hopefully I'm not hijacking the thoughts !

I want this to be a broader conversation, though ! I want more thoughts.

There's definitely a ton of specialist shops. I like that the most. There's places like that in the States, less so in Canada, but they are very spread out. Hole in the wall in Nebraska.

fun fact for those following along:

the reason why the familymart goods (stationery, handkerchiefs, socks, numerous other necessities) far surpass those of a store dedicated to socks is because familymart has a collaboration with muji. incredible, brilliant marketing on their part.

it has been a recurring joy to hear the words "i need more socks..." from maru. to familymart!

We thought we weren't going to Kyoto today, but we did. We thought it was a simple day where we just work -- well, we did do that. We opened by going to our "number 3 coffee place in Japan," where I finally got a nice pourover and we got to focus a bit on our respective work. I did some VN work, listening to a lot of tracks in progress and then getting some design ideas for the menu. I also renovated my website a tiny bit last night -- not the SDF one, my professional one. In general I find myself wanting to take more cues in terms of colour and font choice from the graphic design here (and I was already doing that before...), so I've been trying things out.

Around 1pm, we felt basically ready to head out, since it wasn't quite 37, more like 33. Though I did see that next week Osaka hits a humidex of 45 a few times. So. That's cool.

We took a train up to Kyoto that was a peaceful passenger car-styled experience with window blinds. There's a lot of sex-segregated train cars but I never see the actual segregation in practice. It seems like it's just early morning when they enforce it? Then $8 later, we were there. We stopped by Nintendo Kyoto where it was essentially just a merchandise warehouse for the really big properties staffed by extremely chipper people. Nintendo has a Disney affect sometimes. I didn't get anything (an Animal Crossing handkerchief is a cute idea, but not when it's directly branded with the game title as part of the embroidering). No Metroid stuff. Lots of Mario-themed items, dolls, coin purses in overalls; Zelda merch but only Breath of the Wild-era, you see Twilight Princess Link two or three times, and a single Link to the Past pixel art tote bag. Some Splatoon. I thought they would do a Pokemon Centre-esque thing where you get limited time game stuff, or like a rare colourway of a console. But no such luck anymore. I guess I have little use for a Switch Lite anyway.
But we didn't come to Kyoto to shop. We came to see Old Stuff -- though that means accepting it's a tourist town and restaurants just got 3x more expensive. Kyoto was founded in the 700s and it has a population of over a million people, but it sort of feels like a theme park. So much of the experience of Kyoto is just how many people are here to photograph the scenery and each other.
Lots of girls, Japanese and foreign alike, come to rent kimonos and post demurely in picturesque settings. The origin of the "wise Japan" ("did you know they have a term for the beauty of decay? Well with our new product, adopt it in your own home") aesthetic appears to be from here. Dark, lacquered wood and slanted roof. I don't know. You know Granville Island in Vancouver? It's this island between Fairview and the West End where there's a bunch of bars and Artisanal Foods and a jar of pickles is $20 and nanaimo bars are $15 and you take a ferry to get there and it's basically where everyone who visits stops by, before going for a hike.

But I was sort of here for the nighttime experience. I've been tantalised by midnight Kyoto walks before. I wanted to see these streets in orange. So after we got some dinner ("nihongo jouzu!") we walked through side street after side street and I just felt like I had seen these streets before, maybe in other media -- and somehow, people just came home to their apartments here like it was an everyday thing. It felt bizarre.
We finally did another tour around the shrine we encountered at the start of the day and it was, of course, "always open" -- it's a shrine. People were still walking through as a pair of Australians were explaining to each other in the darkness about how Japan invented magic thousands of years ago.
On the way home we talked a bit about how with enough time here it starts to just feel like it's your life. I guess it's been a week. I forget what's going on at home, that there's a home at all. Things just feel like they're becoming normal, and I feel sort of like I'll either miss or forget these life patterns. Family Mart has a promotion for Luigi blankets. Everyone is on LINE, including landmarks and train stations. Everything is closeby, dense, possible. It's a nice life to fall into.

Quiet day today. Was a toss-up between an impromptu Tokyo trip and a reading day, and it ended up being a reading day -- I also inadvertently caught up on some sleep midday. I tried to look for parts of Osaka I haven't seen yet, so I headed to this Jazz cafe, though it's more of a cafe that plays jazz. They have newspapers available and it's an elderly crowd; it was 450 yen for a sandwich morning set, which is like ... $3, and it was the best coffee I've had so far. Nice, slightly smokey but mellow stuff. I don't know when this turned into a cafe trip. There's just a lot of cafes.

After getting nihongo jouzu'd I tried to walk the Yodo River but it gets a little industrial and a man in a hard hat shoo'd me away. Well-cultivated, though, and quiet. I started to really feel the heat, so I kept moving.
I tried Cafe Fate after a brief thrift store trip where I got a Bill Evans CD for a dollar; it's more of a fancy French toast place though their coffee was also good. There was just a sign on the street gesturing there and I am required to go anywhere that has the word Fate in it.

Then I was curious about this place, but check out their website and some of the lower reviews; while you can definitely stop and read there, the amount of gentle-but-firm control over the space stresses me out a little...

Tomorrow we're hitting southern Kansai, so it'll be my first time in a small town. Rebecca went to East Kansai today and it seemed like a Prettier Experience in the Japanese equivalent of Twin Peaks, including an even cooler jazz cafe. Alas.

i do miss the canned coffee machines. hot canned drinks in konbini. what a world. every night i was doing a pizza delivery shift i would pout about how my options were mcdonalds or gas station coffee. miserable.

Today we headed down to the most southernmost tip of Honshu, Kushimoto. Up at like 8am, we went to get a rail pass for the Wakayama / Osaka / Ise corridor, which I guess includes Nagoya in that, which helps for Saturday, and possibly helps with Nara, if we do go there.

For today though, we got on a train that let off at Shirahama, which had a collection of taxi services, a burger bar and a cafe, as well as many animal-inflected designs. The burger place of course had the Beatles on the wall and moved between old American stuff and Plastic Love.
Then after an hour we paid out and got on the next train to complete the trip to Kushimoto.
Our host was already there and got us into the car to drive to our place. But he really wanted us to see everything. He rendered my name as Ma-so-da, which ... maybe it's a joke. I am not sure. He made a lot of jokes I did not understand. He started out mostly in English and driving us to every museum and landmark in the small town, but the more Japanese we spoke the more he just used only Japanese and the more we tilted our heads and said "Wakarimasen".

The museums and the landmarks are mostly about the postwar period and the formation of the hot springs in Japan, with lots of diagrams of the development of the landmass under tectonic plates. These too were mostly in Japanese but you can basically understand what is going on. We went to the lowest point in Honshu and looked south at Australia.
He would check in like "do you want to go to your room? Are you hungry? OK then let's do the next thing" and we would drive through the scenic parts. It was nice but I felt like I was disappointing them by dropping in so fast. The pace of the place is a bit slower than Osaka (itself already slower than Tokyo), so appearing overnight and then going is like taking in a single breath.

After dropping our bags (and saying hello to a lot of kids?) we then went to head to the beach before the sun went down. An older man was just sitting at the beach with a camera the entire time. It was only when I went closer that I realised that the camera was taking shots by itself every few seconds. He was sitting while it ran through the roll, almost like a fisherman? He would go home and maybe do a timelapse, maybe pick the most perfect shot of the day, but for hours he just sat and patiently watched it go.
Otherwise we just did laps, barefoot, swimming or half-walking through the tide, until it got truly dark.
We then walked back and got intercepted as our host pointed out every single restaurant on the map and called them one by one saying in Japanese that two cute girls from Canada were here so they should open or stay open. The weird thing was that if they were closed they'd still answer? Like it was their home number. Eventually he pointed out one place and we prepared to head over. It was a couple running the place with one other customer. Mostly the man was silent until he finished cooking and then just started talking about all sorts of things, in Japanese, and we would constantly scramble between us to quickly understand the gestalt. But mostly I felt like we failed the quick time event over and over, but he seemed to say that body language and the style of conversation was all you really needed and that it was a challenge to come here at all. He said everyone just comes in and points to the menu and says "this!" (we didn't, so maybe that's why?) or uses the phone to intercede, making you both talk into it, but man-to-man communication was important.

Then he asked where we were going, and like our host, was kind of incredulous we came all this way to go to Nachi and then go right back to Osaka -- the feeling was "why are you spending so much time in Osaka of all places? Not even Tokyo but Osaka?" Like we should treat it like a vacation and go somewhere nice and quiet and for a long time. We aren't -- we have basically all of Japan on the map besides Hokkaido. But he said Nachi was beautiful and talked a bit about his experience going to the shrine there as a child and how everyone from around Japan would come to this trail and that it was worth going on.

As a sidebar cockroaches are kinda common in restaurants but nobody seems to care? We don't react, they don't react, they just crawl on stuff and we assume "oh they must not be a big deal here," though in Canada a roach would get your store closed down for a month. I guess it's just way more common and not a huge disease vector but it's a little unsettling.

Um, anyway after that we decided to go back to the pier at dark. We wanted to see the stars, and there's ... so many. After walking a dark pier (with a lone car left running with ostensibly no one in it), passing scuttling cockroaches meandering through plants, we came back to our place here -- a guest house on a large property -- and now we're getting ready for tomorrow's trip. I can't help but think about the tension between our speed and the slowness of the town. Everyone is so happy to talk, even if you understand like 3% of it, like there's nothing more important than just being here right now enjoying the day.

maru wrote:

there's nothing more important than just being here right now enjoying the day.

i love that sensation. being present, talking to strangers who like to talk back, feeling like a little blip in their life for a while, then moving on. i dunno if its exclusive to the slow, small coastal town, but thats how it is around where I live. and I get to enjoy it when I go work.

unrelated; call of the void, but its wanting to grab a roach and pick it up

i'm glad that you managed to find someone so friendly to talk to in japan (though, i guess it's their job?). my friends who have gone, some really proficient in japanese claimed that nobody wanted to speak to you or would even be bothered to have been talked to. maybe this is just how the bigger cities are? they did a bit of both - rural and city. the couples that ran restaurants off the beaten path were always very chatty and curious about why a foreigner would come to their spot, it genuinely seems cozy! my japanese has rusted a bit, so i wonder how i'd do.

beautiful photos genuinely. i find myself very sucked into the settings you describe, even to the point of longing for them. it sounds like you're getting the intended japan experience.

meri wrote:

my friends who have gone, some really proficient in japanese claimed that nobody wanted to speak to you or would even be bothered to have been talked to. maybe this is just how the bigger cities are?

I think this would definitely be the case in Tokyo. At least the time we were there we didn't talk to a soul. Osaka is still like that. I've only ever introduced myself in smaller towns.

my japanese has rusted a bit, so i wonder how i'd do.

beautiful photos genuinely. i find myself very sucked into the settings you describe, even to the point of longing for them. it sounds like you're getting the intended japan experience.

Why don't you plan a trip of your own? It feels like something that would be good for you.

It's noon on Friday and I never really wrote about Thursday -- yesterday we went to the Nachi Waterfall and its associated shrine. It's only an hour east of where we were, so it didn't feel so bad. And getting there was nice! We stopped by Nanki-Katsuura, an onsen town, just between trains and buses. They have their own mascot girl?
Then after nihongo jouzu, honey butter toast and fresh orange juice from a mom and pop juice place, we got on a bus up to Nachisan.
The elevation is pretty high -- the waterfall itself is 133m and the bus went way up into the mountains as it was. The weather felt much less humid and the shade of the forest also helped with the trek, b getting from the Falls itself to some of the other temples involved a long hike where at the top temple the waterfall appeared to be around eye level -- at least, you could see the top of it now.

So from the bottom shrine, where the worship stage to the waterfall existed -- and where you could take and drink a cup of the water to get a +3 HP buff -- we made our way up. I was lugging other people's trash because it just felt wrong that it was there on the site where mikos are supposed to dance to the kami. I know there's literally no bins for trash unless you hike up a kilometre ... still, I think between the water and the deed I was gaining favour with Hiryu Gongen.
Then after climbing to the very top temple we made our way back down.
Exhausted I asked if we could get ice cream and we sat at the bus stop licking our soft serve. An older man seemed really really exhausted and I asked if he was okay and he nihongo jouzu'd me in reply. I tried to get him something to drink but I did not even know how to phrase the question right. He seemed to think I was asking him if anything here was Good when I meant like, is there something he would want that I could go get? Anyway.
We made our way back to the train and after about 4 hours were in Osaka again. I met up with my friend Alice and had way too many drinks and Okinawan food. I'm supposed to do Nagoya tomorrow, but I might end up doing a minor detour into Tokyo. Not clear! Today is more of a downtime-and-do-work day, and we're parked at maybe the most American cafe here, which is sort of offputting in a way. After so many cafes not like this, it feels strange and familiar at once. "Uncanny," right?

“An older man was just sitting at the beach with a camera the entire time. It was only when I went closer that I realised that the camera was taking shots by itself every few seconds. He was sitting while it ran through the roll, almost like a fisherman? He would go home and maybe do a timelapse, maybe pick the most perfect shot of the day, but for hours he just sat and patiently watched it go.”

Absolute beauty. First, the thing itself. The time taken, the slow life. The perfect shot takes time, so, he is spending time. He could have just taken a snapshot. But he’s giving it the time it needs to get something exceptional. It’s so different from the satisficing I often find myself doing.

But also I think the writing conveyed this well. It really communicated this emotion

(double post… sorry, it’s been years!)

Several friends appeared in Japan this weekend. Instead of traveling wildly, it became a period of just exploring where we were -- as for one of them, we were bantering back and forth about the merits of spending $300 for what amounted to an additional 12 hours together and a tour of Tokyo before just giving up on it and sticking to Osaka. We hung out around Shinsaibashi and spent a few hours talking in an older cafe where everyone was chain smoking.
We talked about To the Stars and what Homura and Madoka's love Means, as well as the migration of Chinese kanji to Japanese marking periods of cultural migration, the different cultures in Singapore and Thailand, an anomalous amount of general legal advice ... then I got some sneakers, we tried hunting for a conveyor belt sushi place, found it above the Planet of the Maids and then parted ways. Rebecca and I went ... right back out to another cafe at night, really close to the water, and then walked around the surrounding park trying to make friends with cats.
Then today we made our way to Nagoya. We tried to make use of our Wagayama pass for the last day, so we took a really long route to get there, spending the entire morning from like 8am to 12pm chaining between low-speed trains into various towns. I forgot my headphones. I just ended up reading Parfit and napping against the window.
Then we tried to make use of our time in Nagoya, only to find that the vibe didn't stick with us at all. It felt like a student town with lots of international kids and a cosmopolitan touch, and had a sort of Toronto-but-run-by-the-Japanese vibe as a result. Lots of late 90s infra, glass towers and a much more English-friendly bent than our time has been in Osaka, where it very quickly gets into "nobody speaks English" land in the further wards. Literally nohongo was jouzu today. After meeting a second friend for a vegan dinner, around 8pm we started getting back on the train home and now we're preparing for the onsen episode and the festival episode.

There was one thing that stuck with me. The TV at the restaurant was playing reruns of this "why did you come to Japan?" show where they interview people At The Airport about it, and a bunch of them just like answered and clearly wanted to go on with their life after or something, but this girl from Calgary just kept going with them and going to the point where they fast-forwarded her conversation with them and then every time I peeked over they were still just hanging around doing shit with her. Oh, they go CD shopping together. And she likes Ryuichi Sakamoto, that's sick. They show her baby photos and graduation pictures. They draw anime portraits of her growing up in Calgary with her mom. They help her get her wallet back after she leaves it in a taxi. They make her speak Japanese on the phone. They show her AT the concert she came to see where the singers were shouting her out for some unknown reason and she's like :D. And the two heads in the bottom left and right of the screen are like :) about it and :lol: others and :o at other moments. And everyone's just like "wow you like Japan! that's so cool!" in a really sincere way. I don't know. That's nice. I want more shows like that. Though in Canada it would seem like we were fetishising newcomers or something if we did that.

thanks again for sharing all these. you have a nice way of writing and the pictures are really nice. i hope i can visit again sometime soon.

i really love the idea of that old man on the beach taking photos.

That's right. It's the onsen episode! Rebecca got me a ryokan trip as a birthday present, and indeed I turned 31 yesterday. Here is me squinting in a yukata.
We arrived by train -- we picked up a whole Shinkansen pass for the next few days because we have an action packed week planned, and this was just the first section. It took around 3 hours to get up to Kinosaki from Osaka, the entire way showcasing really pretty countryside. Town after town of "what do they do there?" I kept thinking about Persona 4, I guess because I was headed to a traditional inn in a small town.
Once there, it was just legions of tourists, Japanese and foreigner alike. We came like a wave -- I guess the town might be used to the tides of reservations causing the floods of people in and out keeping the souvenir shops and cafes alive, but it's an uncanny experience in person.
A bunch of ryokans (there are quite a few!) had people with signs up looking to take people straight to the inn, but seeing as we were like a 5 minute walk, we just decided to go there direct. On the way we saw lots of little roads and even an immaculate garden in the entryway of a cafe.
We got in, met the owner and his family and immediately were set to choosing a yukata to wear and a basket for collecting goods. It's a whole process, that continues the theme of Japan sort of theme-parking itself with a conveyor belt approach. It's fun and, again, both local and foreign visitors come here. It's just interesting how streamlined it is. Anyway, there were both "fancy" yukatas for exploring the town and "onsen" yukatas that are just easier to maneuver in and take on and off ... after a few times I kind of preferred the onsen one just because I didn't have to fuss so much. Rebecca was really taken with the fancier ones and we got a lot of photos of her exploring a Family Mart. People were basically already going outside.
After a little bit of browsing it was time for dinner, which was the largest dinner of my life. Two guys behind us were loudly slurping down their hotpot as we had a delicate multi-course dinner served over a music-box rendition of Merry Christmas Mr. Lawrence and the Phantom of the Opera. We were both scared to know even when to start eating. I was so game to eat whatever was in front of me that I ate raw beef that they scurried over to say we were supposed to be cooking over the flame. I just thought, hey, beef sashimi? Sure I'll do anything.

So what did we have? Lots of rice, lots of tofu, picked items, stewed mackarel and tempura and hotpot and the aforementioned beef-you're-supposed-to-cook-dumbass ... I mean. It was all really good. But it was 2,400+ cal and I don't know how anyone gets through it without just like, partially eating it.

Knocked out we decided to try an onsen, and I basically felt super anxious between "being naked in a sex-segregated place" and "trying to not look too much but also not just have my head down". Anything more than a glance and it feels rude or lingering. Still I felt sort of scared about it. I don't regularly strip in front of people and be like "hello, here are my boobs and genitals," but I already had my yukata ripped open by one of the ryokan ladies trying to fit me properly into it, so people were making me flash them regularly.

After 30 minutes we felt sort of beat, so we wandered outside again. There was a bunch of theatrical performances and music and everyone wanted me to get closer and have a good time instead of watching people. There was, earlier in the day, a girl doing a wind-up-doll performance of being an animatronic duck, and then later on -- I don't know if it was the same girl, but we had a wind-up-doll performance yet again.
A man was playing some really cool music I don't know the genre of. He, too, kept beckoning us closer. A lot of people were just recording him and it felt weird until I realised he was also recording himself.
I guess you may have noticed that I take a lot of interest in watching people take photos. It's like half the fun is treating Japan itself as the set -- "this world is beautiful, so why not picture yourself inside it?" -- but then also literally also taking yourself inside that world. It's so interesting to me that even local people do this; taking a piece of the aesthetic-mythopoetic and relating to it directly is allowed and encouraged. There's so much international cultural mixture both in Japanese history and in the Japanese present that it's not like you can't see literally you-yourself here in some greater mythological sense, and it's so obvious how you can get chuuni when there's a shrine around the corner dedicated to a sacred sword you pray to for advice and guidance. It's so obvious how you get Fate/stay night. Everyone meets at these supernatural crossroads, whether it's Joan of Arc or Amakusa Shiro.
It's Tsukimi, and it was a supermoon on my birthday. Everyone was trying to stay out late and enjoy the onsens in the moonlight, take romantic honeymoon photos, or I guess just chill with their bros.
They set up shrines with mochi on each bridge, making each one a little devotional. An elderly woman came to the bridge to give a quick bow to it before continuing on her way. It reminded me of how we passed an ancestral shrine on our way to the ryokan to begin with; at home, in church we are supposed to bow to three different altars every time we pass them, bow to it mid-sentence at times, get on our knees when the Eucharistic Presence is revealed or carried out to the congregation. Here the devotion is in the world itself, a casual part of everyday life. I felt sad how pushed into the corners it is at home; it's become a compartment of life, something that some people Choose to include in their lives, instead of a piece of everyone's life.
I mean, we're a different place, with a different practice. Multiculturalism means we aspire toward a mosaic -- but wouldn't that mean that different sectors of towns have different practices? Instead, it's like nobody can do their thing anywhere (something closer to a secular melting pot). I am not sure I've ever seen Muslims pray in public in Canada, for example.

Anyway, enough of my navel gazing. After another day of food and onsen bathing, we both got a lot of rest and headed back. I met up with another internet friend today (making Three of them, in this Montauk moment), and tomorrow we're readying up for Fukuoka, which I'm only going to because I like Excel Saga. I have to pick the itinerary and between me and Seraphine we have something special planned.

Thank you for posting all of these updates and photos!!.

I adore your travel writing, it's like I'm getting a little novella of Japan with your inner thoughts -- I think funnily enough, it's the sort of book with unique type setting you'd see published in Japan (or so I imagine it to be). I had a friend who was major into TTRPG design who said Japanese table top developers really care about the visual design and aesthetics and layout of books.

(This post was written as I'm waking up, so it may be long and rambly...)

maru wrote:

It's a whole process, that continues the theme of Japan sort of theme-parking itself with a conveyor belt approach. It's fun and, again, both local and foreign visitors come here. It's just interesting how streamlined it is.

It's a bit psycho in the way anything articulated in realpolitick terms is, but I've seen the idea that smaller states without hard physical power do soft power projection via cultural production and export: that Japanness as an aesthetic is something sort of intentionally created and produced, which can influence folks who interact with it. Thailand does this with Thai restaurants, and Korea helps protect and steward it's KPop industry and I wouldn't be surprised if a lot of what you see isn't downstream of policy.

But like, humans are complex and fickle creatures and it's as hard to manipulate populations to do things as it is easy to encourage populations to do things: I don't think anyone involved here is thinking in terms of soft power projection or w/e, they're thinking of their lives in the way they interact in the sea of humanity.

And as far as things you could use state capacity for, streamlined yukata sales, pretty boys and thai food is pretty harmless and kinda nice haha.

maru wrote:

They set up shrines with mochi on each bridge, making each one a little devotional. An elderly woman came to the bridge to give a quick bow to it before continuing on her way. It reminded me of how we passed an ancestral shrine on our way to the ryokan to begin with; at home, in church we are supposed to bow to three different altars every time we pass them, bow to it mid-sentence at times, get on our knees when the Eucharistic Presence is revealed or carried out to the congregation. Here the devotion is in the world itself, a casual part of everyday life. I felt sad how pushed into the corners it is at home; it's become a compartment of life, something that some people Choose to include in their lives, instead of a piece of everyone's life.

It's interesting to hear you describe this in person, I've heard people talk about veneration of the natural area or individual things but I'm always a bit hesitant to believe reports that sort of play up quirks like this of other cultures as special. Every so often in cities I see quirky or strange graffiti or tagging, like someone carving YHWH in Paleohebrew script on a metal bench, and wonder if that isn't coming from the same human impulse.

I've started attending Quaker meeting, which is like silent meditation where you can share things if you feel compelled to, and this particular meeting has an outdoor courtyard and for the larger Sunday meeting people can do Meeting indoor or outdoors, doing it outdoors felt lovely and kind of special because I was surrounded by greenery I could look at and the open air, in contrast to the slightly more stuffy room upstairs which functions kind of like a traditional church.

maru wrote:

I mean, we're a different place, with a different practice. Multiculturalism means we aspire toward a mosaic -- but wouldn't that mean that different sectors of towns have different practices? Instead, it's like nobody can do their thing anywhere (something closer to a secular melting pot). I am not sure I've ever seen Muslims pray in public in Canada, for example.

When I worked at an airport lounge, we had a desperate VIP room and every so often folks would ask to do Salah in there, and maybe one who did it in the main area when it was pretty quiet. Some of it might have just been wanting space but I can understand the privateness and feeling uncomfortable about doing it in public.

I think public secularness is valuable for like, religious freedom and stuff, but I also don't know if people feeling the sort of ambient belief type stuff of Japanese shinto like I think is described as being bad.

We're sick. We're both sick. One of us is smart. One of us is not. I got up at 0630, showered and headed out to Fukuoka anyway. It didn't feel that bad until I think around noon, when the weather (36, with a humidex of 43) started to really catch up to me.

Seraphine had helped me out with an itinerary -- I sort of wanted to get off the beaten track a little and go on an adventure. But I also didn't know what the Local Scene was for anything, coffee, whatever. So she suggested things and it became a list, an order. And then today I did not follow that order. My body was very rapidly giving out, and check-in was 1600.

Why was Fukuoka so important? I think arbitrary sources of meaning are still sources of meaning. This whole trip I've found myself feeling "intuitions" and following them. Weeks ago at a shrine I gave more money than I really needed to because it felt important that I do so. I keep feeling a compulsion to go to Aokigahara but it feels like if I do, I'm going alone into the world of the dead.

In this case, I wanted to just see what ... "inspired"? Excel Saga. There's this thread on Reddit where a guy tattooed the title onto his arm and was like, "man, I can't wait to go to Fukuoka and see all the places the characters are named after." And I was like, wait, what? The characters are named after things?

And indeed, you look and you see ... Acros. Right beside City Hall. And surrounding it? The hotels Excel, Hyatt, Elgala and of course, Il Palazzo-sama. What about the city employees? They're kinda just streets, districts or shrines. Sumiyoshi? Check. Watanabe? Check. Uh, Ropponmatsu? Oh yeah.

The first thing I noticed was that foreigner presence was a lot lower in Fukuoka. Therefore, everyone seemed to be a lot more curious about you. Perhaps I always look like a total weirdo. I certainly think so when I see other people's photos. But I kept getting glanced at, or people turning around looking at me until I looked back; the barista at the local shop kinda looked at me like an alien in a way that I really could not parse. I did not see any white people all day until check-in at this hotel, and literally no one knows any English.

This made things a little awkward because I tended to rely on Rebecca a lot in the past for talking and played the blue oni to her red one; I did not look up many words on my own usually. I tended to just katakana-ize what I was trying to say and tripping over it. In Kinosaki I tried to be funny and say "Hisashiburi" when I returned to a shop and instead said "Hajimemashite" which made no sense at all. Anyway, a tote bag is just "toto baggu." So I win this time.

The second thing I noticed was that it was a bit quieter; Fukuoka is half the population of Osaka and Nagoya. It's not one of the "three big cities." It's just a city. It's smaller than Sapporo.

The third thing I noticed is that it's really pretty and probably a super nice place to live.
It's a mixture of larger apartments, restaurant-centric districts and parks. It's the city of flowers, after all, and the original plan sure had a lot of them in it. Between all of this is a network of canals and a huge underground mall.

It also has a nice manhole cover.
My first mission was getting this backpack off. I got a tote bag after some careful negotiation about what a tote bag is and dropped my bag at some coin lockers, after Alice pointed out that it's one of Japan's gifts to walking around wherever you want. After getting lost and making my way through some used manga stores (no Excel Saga??? but tons of Haikyuu stuff, teeny tiny Fate section for character goods, some BL manga and a very large doujin section), I got some granola (finally, some fucking fibre) at a coffee shop and decided to reorganise the day and head toward Ohori Park.
I saw that there was another park right beside Ohori so I tried to find my way in. There was this sloping hill with thick tree roots forming stairs and I climbed up it, only to find a guided tour of the Pine Slope outside Fukuoka Castle.
I scaled down the hill again and crossed the street to where the park should be, but I wasn't sure. The maps were inverted North in orientation and I kept getting confused. I was also clearly getting a little feverish.
The park itself was quiet. There was a long, long field that seemed like a parking lot, and then out of nowhere a BBQ garden. It's literally called that. Just rows of tents, barbeques and some boombox somewhere playing English top 40 stuff.
A little further and I suddenly found it. A statue of Demeter announced an enormous lake, lined with walk+jog+cycle lanes, bridges and crane boats for two. It's downright Vancouver.
My work done I felt like Tetsuo in Akira. My time was not long if I didn't get out of this heat. Luckily I was able to find a way home through the subway and underground mall. This, of all places, was actually packed full of people, who also I guess were smarter than me. That's a theme today. So I felt weird getting photos, besides this one of Beautiful and Good and their special concern.
Honestly the more gratuitious English I see as subtitles around logos, like, Steins Gate style, the more I feel emboldened to just start throwing kana into anything.

With my bag reclaimed I wandered over to the hotel and saw that I still couldn't check in on the tablet (there's no staff). So I sat on the staircase sweating and feeling bad for fifteen minutes. At 1558, a bunch of Russian men came out of the elevator at once and started laughing when they saw me sitting around saying "it's at 4." Even more Russian guys came out of the elevator in a second round and they all laughed more and said "in Japan it's Very Precise". Then I checked in and passed out in the weirdly snazzy room with the first actual bed I've ever seen. It almost makes up for how sketchy every other aspect of its experience is and how it's like $100 when I live in an Osaka house for like $25/day.
(Anyway. No kvetching on Paralogue, only in real life.)

When I woke up again I realised I needed a meal that was not a tiny cup of granola, so I started wandering outside. Suddenly: people were outside.
What's the Nakasu nightlife like? People wandering talking on phones and a few escort hotels. Many restaurants in little laneways. And above all, a lovely river.
And so I started wandering looking for food, but I felt progressively worse even as it was cooler outside. Everything is sore. I get a headache when I move. But I wanted to see more.
Finally I came across them all ... all the reasons I came here.
I guess it wasn't meaningless after all... it was a kind of love, called loyalty.

we're sick. we're both sick. 7:15 rolls around and my body musters enough awakeness to alert matilde that i most certainly cannot make it to fukuoka. advil is sisyphus and my headache is the boulder... and sisyphus is losing his grand battle right now.

so i sit and wait in the living room for matilde to depart. it feels bittersweet every time we have parted ways on this trip -- like a grand adventure is about to happen, but just a few doors down from my room.

arc'teryx has this big marketing campaign called "no wasted days" and really it's meant to be about like, getting outdoors and experiencing the grand world beyond, but i've taken it to heart to mean "do not be a lump indoors today. even if you are sick." and thus, i get ready to go outside.

brooklyn roasting company (namba) is the first location on the docket today because i need to work but our wifi is garbage. i spend far too much money on coffee and a cookie but the barista is jovial and so i feel pleasant about the whole experience. side note here: there is something fascinatingly bizarre about being in a space that is decidedly For Tourists as a Tourist. another Tourist enters the cafe... our eyes lock... what type of Tourist are you... are we about to do the patented Tourist smirk and nod... do we acknowledge the great journey we are each on in this exact moment...

no. i look away as fast as i can and continue to work while some american girls loudly talk about the pains of working with children.

eventually i grow tired of brooklyn roasting company's atmosphere and decide it's time to, you guessed it, spend more money. but it's (mostly) not for me, it's on souvenirs for loved ones, and so i can justify it.

i take the beautiful nankai line down to sumiyoshi taisha (the re-run!). there's an advertisement on here for a... high school? middle school? university? actually, it's all three, and it's being touted by a young girl in a clean uniform with a wistful look on her face. she is most definitely acing those tests.


i'm here to get another bunny charm. it's for good fortune, and i bought one the first time matilde and i came down here. unfortunately, on a very cursed trip to ise, my good fortune bunny charm broke off somewhere. that very much sounds like something that will eventually have horrible repercussions spiritually but for now, meh. spend ¥1000, get another charm, pretend that the replacement cancels it all out.

afterwards, it's... god, it's bloody hot out. my lips are drying out and the wooziness is kicking in. it's a short stumbly walk to a nearby park where i desperately seek out a bench for a water break. but first, obligatory flower picture.


the nankai line swiftly returns me to namba where people are starting to congregate en masse. everyone is here to see The Glico Man. he beckons to me, but i do not answer his call... yet. instead i buy nail polish for my sister from a strange shop inside a strange building, and then i wander into a cafe where i briefly met matilde yesterday. i felt bad for not ordering then, so i guess i'm here to make up for that now.

immediately upon entry, the familiar chime of "irrashaimase!" is combined with a new word that hits my foggy brain like a confusion dart. "otabako?"

there are a few types of travellers:
- ones who do not learn the language whatsoever. no, not even to say hello, sorry, or thank you. i most recently encountered this with an older woman on the bus who loudly said sorry to everyone she walked past. you can at least appreciate that she got the respect part of the culture down, just... translated.
- ones who learn the entire language beforehand so as to prevent even an inkling of miscommunication (you have my heartiest congratulations and my deepest fear)
- ones who learn survival phrases and pick up the rest along the way -- that's my bucket.

after a series of uh... uhmmm.... uhhhhhs.... it is translated into "su-mo-king-u?" and i wave my hand theatrically to say no. the server politely ushers me to the closest seat. water is poured, a hand towel is offered, and the menu is placed within reach. according to japanese google reviewer standards, this place already has at least a 3 star rating. i promptly down a banana chocolate pancake set because i can feel my blood sugar dropping exponentially, and i... do more work.


the rest of the evening follows pretty uneventfully. matilde and i were supposed to eat ramen in fukuoka (apparently that's what it's known for?) but as we're split up, i seek it out on my own here. a short walk through dotonbori takes me to one of several ichiran ramen locations within a 3 block radius.

this one is halal. i want pork. good thing i can walk another 2 minutes to The Pork Location. a quick jaunt along the canal takes me to a bustling spot beneath the bridge where... oh my god. it's The Glico Man again. swarms of people flock along the bridge edge to say hello, to claim a glimpse of his fame... but they will never run as fast nor as far as him. he is untouchable.


while i'm waiting in line, a grilled meat stand right next door is blaring Boom Boom Boom Boom! by Vengaboys while a mother films her daughter eating a meat skewer for social media content. the vibes in dotonbori are simply immaculate.

in praise of ichiran ramen:

a clipboard full of ordering papers gets passed down the line. choose your broth. choose your garlic level. choose your spice level. choose your noodle thickness. green onions, yes or no? pass the papers down the line. wait your turn. pay at a screen. wait your turn. sit in your assigned single-person booth. wait your turn. a worker arrives, briefly, to retrieve your order paper. wait your turn. a bowl of ramen arrives swiftly and... hold on. to my surprise, the worker bows after placing the bowl of ramen down. no, not a standard bow. he keeps going further and further -- my god, he's past 90° now. the deference astonishes me to the point where i need to, no, i MUST eat this entire bowl of ramen lest i let him down.


it's the best goddamn ramen i've ever had in my life.


there's also a sign posted right at eye level announcing part-time jobs available! work as little as one hour a week! paid time off, health insurance, the whole deal! i am tempted briefly before i remember i don't live here, and then i feel a little sad.

i go home.

I'm usually a B-side person. "Total Life Forever" by Foals? The back half rocks it. "Low" by David Bowie? That Side B, man. Smiths, Belle and Sebastian, they live or die by the second song on the single. I'd even say Aja has a better Side B than A. Sequencing often puts the more contemplative and "jam session" tracks on the back. We had some fun, now the night is ending ("Last Night" by Moby also fits here, actually.) I love it a lot when a track fades in an outtake after a song's over to continue painting the mood ("Beautiful" by Belle and Sebastian, the perpetual "Indian Ocean" by the Field Mice, I think "Hey Bulldog" does?) It's like you're exhausting yourself in a feeling.

I often need to exhaust myself. Neurosis is, after all, about setting up arenas for the remedy of an issue. I push myself until I can't. Then I sleep. That is to say, I've been continuing to do things even as my body is sad. We split up again. I did want to go to Hiroshima. When I woke up, I was very glad I did not. I felt tremendously poor. I had a stress dream, which I might recapitulate in a moment. I needed more sleep but I wasn't going to get it. Eventually, I got myself to the cafe we went to at the start of the month, walking a kilometre or so, then realising I forgot my wallet, going home and then coming back with it, wasting like 40 minutes in the process. They were nice and remembered my order and said welcome back and all.

Then I decided to go to the same Brooklyn Roasting Company because besides coworking spaces, only an American cafe is going to make you feel like you can sit here forever. Everywhere else is small with the seating, and you can get the sense that you are being patiently tolerated. Maybe that's my anxiety. At this place they like volunteer, "hey Here's The Wifi, hop to it" etc., and there's tables upon tables with outlets for this explicit purpose where there's nothing but expats. I'm not weird here. People will stop looking at me so much. I go a little crazy from being looked at. I also think I am getting to be a bit lonely. This is what I think the slump phase is, of honeymoon/slump/adaptation. I'm different enough to be a curiosity, but ultimately alone with my thoughts. The words can't meet anyone. I could try, but it will push against the designated tolerance of others. There's never been so many people in one place, so it's strange to reach out to anyone in particular -- I kind of miss this about Kushimoto. I suddenly remember that when I politely thanked our host for the sake I swear he said "tasukete" under his breath. I don't know what he meant. Maybe that I am being so polite that I won't relax? (Apparently they don't ever use polite speech?)

Anyway. I decided to pick up some stuff I kept thinking about getting today. I didn't want to walk too much, but I did. It's a Saturday, though; downtown is just ridiculous. I kept wondering: why is everyone else here, of all places?
I kept thinking about the time I've spent in New York: did I ever see this much camera, this much recording? People took photos, sure? Did they livestream themselves eating takoyaki or doing the Glico gesture? As I might've said, when we accidentally visited a tea house we were interrupted by someone filming a YouTube video hyping it up in real time, uh, in Chinese. When I met up with some internet friends the other day they kept having their 2 year-old kids photographed by tourists and were trying to stop people doing that. I remember in Nagoya there was this wall of books in the mall that said "Do Not Photograph" and literally everyone going up the stairs to see it took a photograph anyway. I started casually posing in place as I walked down the stairs for the photographer. Do people at home often just livestream themselves with a selfie stick walking through a store? -- I suddenly realise how all these "walking around Tokyo" videos exist: there is an endless forest of people just recording the moment for some unknown person. Or maybe everyone is just like this.
I started making a playlist for the trip in a haze the other day. I tried to take music that was often playing, reminiscent of the mood, of conversations, of the tone. I keep sequencing stuff on and off of it, sometimes things feel wrong in retrospect or I'm not capturing something right. I keep thinking about whether or not to include Modest Mouse, because it reminds me of how my first girlfriend when I was like, 16, thought it was like a ridiculously boyish fascination where I'd get really into it. So I feel sort of embarrassed but also not, because I just genuinely like it, but it doesn't quite fit, but it does because so many songs are reflective travel pieces. Jury's out there.

I've been stressed out with some hotel stuff in Tokyo between interminable communication problems and some slightly-sketchy requirements and now they refuse to reimburse me due to their "after 2 hours, you're Fucked" policy. I am trying to not eat ~$450. This has been in the back of my mind literally the entire day. Otherwise, I answered emails, listened to podcasts, and reflected on how the eyes are a weapon.

rebecca's epic ramen @ The Pork Location is definitely going in the recap episode.

maru wrote:

I kept thinking about the time I've spent in New York: did I ever see this much camera, this much recording? People took photos, sure? Did they livestream themselves eating takoyaki or doing the Glico gesture? As I might've said, when we accidentally visited a tea house we were interrupted by someone filming a YouTube video hyping it up in real time, uh, in Chinese. When I met up with some internet friends the other day they kept having their 2 year-old kids photographed by tourists and were trying to stop people doing that. I remember in Nagoya there was this wall of books in the mall that said "Do Not Photograph" and literally everyone going up the stairs to see it took a photograph anyway. I started casually posing in place as I walked down the stairs for the photographer. Do people at home often just livestream themselves with a selfie stick walking through a store? -- I suddenly realise how all these "walking around Tokyo" videos exist: there is an endless forest of people just recording the moment for some unknown person. Or maybe everyone is just like this.

The two kinds of tourist I have in my head are the American and British, and while the former is a sort of ubiquitous stereotype, some hawaiian shirt wearing guy with sunscreen, big glasses, big camera, dragging bags around, I think the latter is more unusual. Has a sort of similar shape and outfit but usually goes to really specific places like spain and doesnt learn the language and sticks to specific 'containment' areas that almost exclusively speak english and have british stuff everywhere. Almost like home away from home. Sorta calling into question why one would leave home at all.

Tourism to Japan seems like its for the former type, its about going to the place to get a sort of vertical slice, but then, people seem confused about why you'd be going anywhere except the touristy places. and its hard to imagine a place in japan that does the latter home away from home deal, but im definitely unfamiliar. maybe thats how the people who live there conceptualize the tourist traps, as containment.

maru wrote:

I started making a playlist for the trip in a haze the other day. I tried to take music that was often playing, reminiscent of the mood, of conversations, of the tone.

If you end up putting together a playlist you like, you should post it at the end!! I'd put modest mouse in there. but then id put all sorts of crazy shit on a playlist regardless of how out of place it might feel.

So far, yeah I just ate the money. What if I had booked the whole month? I guess in those cases you don't normally take non-refundable-after-2-hours-clauses.

Still in Osaka today. Did you know a lot of people on r/japantravel or whatever really think Osaka isn't that great, not even worth a day, and why not spend 2 weeks in beautiful Kyoto? I get it -- you're trying to Get Everything Important Done. I have five minutes on this earth. If I don't see enough things, I'll have nothing to watch when my memories are on repeat forever in the infinite void. (They even say like "don't hike. Not enough time. Cab from shrine to shrine." There are 400 shrines in Kyoto.)

I keep finding new things in Osaka, even though so much stuff is built around Namba. Osaka is sick. Big fan of Osaka. There is a whole area of town doing the Akihabara thing. I decided to go there.

It's a surprisingly rainy day. We had some rain in Tokyo weeks ago, but besides sunshowers it's been barren a lot of the time. Even though I continually got pretty soaked even under the umbrella I felt happy to be outside. Dude, it's like 23 degrees.

We parked a little at the same old coffee shop to work. I got a hotel for a bonus day in Tokyo (meaning Sat+Sun we have lodging there, checking out Mon 30 to fly out that evening).

Then after eating something, checking messages, etc. I felt like heading over. It's like a few minutes away, why not?

I'm not sure if I actually want anything. I have talked myself in and out of weird video game stuff over the years. I have a Game Boy Micro from years back. I have a New 3DS LL I use as a GBA+DS+3DS game centre. I have almost bought a PS Vita twice, then didn't. The few Vita games I want to play are JP releases and I ended up collecting the ROMs on my Steam Deck. I talk myself out of the Analogue Pocket every 6 weeks when they email me to say I can buy one now. Still, if I found the right time, the right thing ... it wouldn't be so bad ...

The first thing I see in the neighbourhood is the same-old-same-old anime billboards.
Wait, "same old"? When did I start thinking this was normal? I guess day in day out you see My Hero Academia lifesize cutouts off the subway, you use anime as an art form in ads, the banks do live action cosplay for Kiki's Delivery Service playing on loop on the actual cars themselves ... it feels less distinguished as weeb-town because it's just a mode of expression. These are just mascot girls for the stores, because stores have mascot girls. That's just obvious.

And when I go in, and they have shelf after shelf of otaku stuff I recognise and it's like not really that expensive, it feels a bit more normal over time, too. I caught myself noticing I was coming across "rare finds" over and over just because it would otherwise be bizarre to find the Ever17 OST brand new for $8 at Saint-Michel or whatever. Boxed copies of Leaf games over and over (in the erogame section ... I don't know enough about Key and Leaf clearly ...) Fate merch is downright ubiquitous. Fate has its own section in the CD rack. Touhou has a third of the doujin section to itself. That's just obvious and normal.

You know what isn't there? Basically anything of the 2000s anime culture I am perpetually stuck in. I could not find anything .hack. You will never find Excel Saga, people won't know what that is, it's like Takeshi's Castle. Even my sicko love of Subahibi had no objection of admiration to itself.

All this to say: I went to the store with very erotic comics, and indeed they were very erotic. I skimmed it at first; Rebecca came back later and we just ... went through so much of it. So much flesh. So many regular looking middle aged guys just casually picking out their doujins to take home. (You ever see how Satoshi Kon drew guys?) I couldn't imagine coming across my bro here, like finding out we both shop at /d/ or something. "Ah, I see."

Once I was outside again, the rain cleared up a little and suddenly there were tons of girls in maid outfits handing out flyers. -- We've seen girls in maid outfits standing on the corner near our place on the weekends later into the night and more and more of them would start standing together. At first it was just one who was always uncomfortably fielding a guy or two asking something, now it was like four or five. We kept wondering: what are they selling, exactly? Can't see a maid cafe anywhere near here. Their signs have hourly rates. Over time the maid outfit has gotten a bit of a prostitution feel to it now, like if I see a girl in a maid outfit it looks like she's going to work. There's maid massage parlours, after all. But for the everything else, what's the hourly rate for?!

The actual maid cafes in Denden had lineups out the door, mostly of girls, also in cosplay (lolita stuff). I am interminably American and therefore anything other than the pretence of egalitarianism, like we're friends in a briefly transactional relatoinship, makes me feel uncomfortable. We often try to carry trays back to a home but they usually don't do that. Let them handle it etc.

I ended up meandering south a little and went looking for CDs. I keep trying to find Yasuaki Shimizu, but no dice. The used stores have very deep pulls, usually a lot of cool ECM records on CD or vinyl, hell I saw Aja for like $5, that's nice. Flipper's Guitar for $7, that's a classic. It's like everyone is your cool friend -- jazz, yacht rock and only the finest Japanese pop -- but that's just because we imported this taste for the hipsters, I guess.

Walking back up I came across the Windows Tower. The Windows Tower. You know. The Windows Tower. The dilapidated 1970s casino looking Windows Tower.
Then, over dinner we sat and discussed if it would be fun or stupid to go all "challenge mode" and go to Tokyo early, shove our stuff into lockers and try to slum it in various manga cafes or capsule hotels overnight. Destructive vs. protective impulses are clashing.

Everything makes sense now.
There are indeed towns where there are just deer everywhere. There is Nara. But first, there is Hōzan-ji. That's right: we went to a Buddhist temple! In ... Mozencho? It's a distinct village within Ikoma, but I have a hard time pinning it down. A lot of stores merely just said Ikoma, but Ikoma is pretty big.

Anyway. Let's just reverse a little and start over.

After a relatively brief train from our place, we arrived at a crossroads station in Nara that led to a cable car station. We had just missed a lantern festival at this same temple, but we were surprised to see lanterns in the station itself. Same ones?
The cable cars themselves are decorated as a dog and a cat named Bull and Mike. The top of the line goes to a theme park for kids, apparently, and a lot of families piled into the cable car as it played "she'll be coming around the mountain" on the way up. Incidentally, you hear a lot of American traditional folk songs as jingles in stations and stores.
We got off at the first stop and then started climbing up the town of Mozen-machi or Mozencho or Ikoma or ... and everyone was friendly and nice, nodding hello as we climbed up the stairs leading to the temple at the top.
The temple itself was massive -- with lots of parallel shrines further up the climb. We kept scaling but after a while it became long stairs lined with graves wearing red bibs. Even though it was serene and beautiful, I felt strange using the dead for aesthetics, so I stopped taking photos for a lot of the temple stay.

The way back down we got a bit closer to the front; we gave up our seats to an elderly woman and a mom and her kid and just took the moment in, instead.
Then we pulled into Nara Park proper. And yeah, deer.
There's so many of them, and they're inordinately friendly. They sit and sleep and wait for humans to bring them food like it's conveyor sushi; the ones walking around walk up to you and literally bow back to you if you bow hello. This is apparently a learned behaviour around here -- it was pretty common to see, but a lot of people do bow first, so it's not unusual that they sometimes bow first, instead. *bow* Cracker please? Etc.

Then you get the fighting game tutorial for the deer's moveset, if you want that.
We followed the park toward more shrines, coming across a massive crowd in the process. Nara is a tourist attraction that felt about as popular as Kyoto was, honestly. Schoolchildren come to the temple. Americans come to the temple. Brits come to the temple. Italians come to the temple. Couples come to the temple. Single people come to the temple. So great is the power of the Buddha.
On the way to another shrine we saw a mountain as tall as Mount Royal in Montreal with people lined up to picnic at the city's peak. It was getting to be kind of late in the day though and Rebecca wanted to get there before it closed, as we are, after all, on a quest here.
But we made it in time. I don't know. I don't have that many insights today! I'm both exhausted (my body is not quite fully recovered and I have a wet cough) but also feeling like I was happily experiencing the moment. It was a cute day. I'll write more another time, probably.

Rebecca went back to Kyoto today. I felt so wiped out last night that I thought ... I can't do a huge hike with tons of people. I want to go into the countryside again. I want to wander. I want to be whimsical. So after zooming in on the map I found a cute cafe and thought, well, I'm going to go there today. I'm going to go to Yoshino.
Yoshino is a mountain town. A day trip from Osaka, really; people normally go for the cherry blossom season, but otherwise it's just a hike location. A mountain town accessible by cable car. The cafe isn't quite in Yoshino itself -- it's a station or two away, but it caught my eye on Google because of all the praise and the food in question being Japanese-style western cuisine, a concept I was introduced to only the other week.

I already fucked up within an hour -- I tried taking a Limited Express, but it was full. A train was leaving in the general direction immediately, so I just recklessly took it. An hour later, I looked at my map and saw that I had veered onto another line halfway through the trip and had to backtrack. (I made a note that I had to skip the detour back to get really fancy hot dogs and heart-rending renditions of Beatles songs, now -- it seems unlikely to make it before a 1700 close an entire other town away afterward.)

Eventually though, as the English guidance on the voiceover stopped, people stepped off until it was an empty train, and it settled in front of the supposed cafe.
(I didn't have any funds on my IC card, and there was nowhere in the station after the gate to refill it, so I hopped the turnstile to recharge my card, then hopped back in to exit.)

If you use Google to look for directions, it'll say it's a 33 minute walk as you follow suburban roads up and around the station; in reality, though, there's a forest path on your immediate right, and after a small hike you just get there in 10 minutes. It's just ... not necessarily flagged well.
Once the forest flattened out and it looked like a town again, I seemed to be in someone's backyard. I could hear goats. I walked up a few steps and saw a temple -- that wasn't it -- so I went back down and walked toward the house, hoping I wasn't trespassing. A woman stepped out and asked "are you here for lunch?" I said, yeah. She was like, oh. Here or outside? I said anywhere was okay. She gestured me inside, where two men were eating cereal. Guests? Not sure -- this place apparently used to be an Airbnb, but now I don't know. One of the men put a coaster down for me and said "welcome," so probably not.

Then she gave me a menu with one item -- the lunch set -- and went to work. The guys meandered into corners, turned on music and lights -- I thought the place was closed because of that... -- and then sat in front of a computer. I felt like I was in someone's house who just decided she'd cook for anyone who showed up.
The food arrived and she asked if I wanted coffee or tea, then asked if I wanted it after the meal or now. She then went and brewed a pot, right then right there, as I politely ate. It was a cute and good meal, gratin and matcha bread and a salad.
Another man walked in and said hello to me and as goats bleated he seemed to have a letter and they seemed to just talk about it to each other -- not in secret, but openly, like it was just another day at home. She asked me questions, but my Japanese is bad -- mostly, like, "so ... do you live here? Study here? Just visiting?" I said I'm in Osaka, going to Yoshino. "So you live in Yoshino?" Ah, no, I'm Canadian. Then she said ohhh... and said she's the wife of one of the men here who's a monk -- this is a temple -- and sometimes they lodge French and Australian people. She wished me well and said to be careful. Then I just quietly meandered down the mountain and back to the station.
The rest of the trip went fast. Yoshino, like the last station, was deserted. Only train staff.
There were booths with ice cream -- staffed, but no customers. The cable car? Not running, it only does on the weekends. A man in a bus drove some women down. I pointed at the bus and then up and he shook his head and gave me a map with tons of directions on how to get up the mountain. I nodded pensively and then said,

「わかりません、でも、頑張れます。」

He nodded and then left. I started up the mountain by foot.
There's a combination of staircases and winding roads -- the latter mostly for cars, and since it's a single lane with two lanes of traffic, cars are often backing up to let each other through. It makes being a person on the road even more awkward, but there are times you can only really follow the road. It flattens out, though, leading to the start of the town itself.
The town was a little odd. Don't get me wrong: it's not a ghost town. But besides occasionally pairs of people hiking through, it's a really quiet place. The stores are open, but they're dark inside. There's antiques -- or souvenirs? -- sake tasting and ice cream, but it's just sort of lying in wait. People come, right? It's just a really slow day.

The road started winding and opening up to show a sea of trees, divvying up the town a little.
Once it started hitting 1500 I felt like I could keep scaling the mountain, but I was playing with fire: I had to get back to Osaka, and it's a 2 hour train, and I have to get off the mountain to get there. I ended up getting back to the station by 1600 so that we could have a normal dinner time at 1800 or so. But first I stopped by a shrine -- a racist heritage site or something. It was also ... empty. Just two gardeners trimming trees, a stunning array of wishes with anime art and a gaze into what must be dizzying in cherry blossom season: is this whole thing pink?
Then I walked back down, to find the sun was out and the sky tinted new colours. Not that anyone appeared; it was just crickets the whole time.
And ... so back down the mountain I went. It felt like a long time, but only because I had no idea what to expect. Once mapped, the fog of war evaporates, leaving just a short walk.
After getting a deluxe ticket on a very 19c themed sightseeing car, I was back in Osaka before the sun was even down. I'm going to miss being able to do that.
After all, what's the furthest you've gone in a day, round trip? All these day trips take us to and from the literal station in front of our house -- it all connects, from the local lines to the broader cross-country lines. Regional trips are $10-20, cross-prefectural gets into $40ish+, Tokyo to Osaka is like $150 (ow). But everything stays in the 90m to 2h range, you know? It's all day trippable, if you want to.

I really liked being able to explore alone -- though I guess I wish I saw more casual friendliness and chatter, but that's what you get with no host, no guide and no stays a tany restaurants. Just walking through and one person tried to give me directions, so that was nice enough, I suppose.

maru wrote:

(I didn't have any funds on my IC card, and there was nowhere in the station after the gate to refill it, so I hopped the turnstile to recharge my card, then hopped back in to exit.)

This is a fantastic little anecdote that speaks to your character.

Solo exploration has always felt very spiritually fulfilling to me. I think the loneliness of it makes the world seem a bit more strange and mystical and somehow far away but very immediate? When I walk around with friends I'm always super focused on our conversation and often forget things.

Also you have some gorgeous photos and good photography skills.

I hope to see more updates! <3

This has relatively stabilised so I will share the playlist I made. It is called 関西の9月 (a night's sunflower).



The core list is here, but you can also find a version on YouTube here. I tried making one on Spotify, but it was missing two or three songs and it felt like those were key songs!

The art is made in GIMP from a mixture of two or three photos from the trip layered on top of a frame of anime (one was the moonlit night that recoloured the hand, then the Tsukimi viewing itself formed the backdrop, and merging the two created a weird inversion effect that I then re-chroma'd over a partial selection of the colour).

The track choices range from "we talked about this song before leaving" (opening), to the way things Felt (aori + Relax), the predominance of the Beatles, mentioning specific artists in conversation, the general way we felt as the month went on, the way temples sounded (Ishiura) and then feeling kinda empty and tired like a whole life happened.

Last weekend in Tokyo, now.

We're in Tokyo today and tomorrow, then we fly out Monday evening. So that could even be like a half day. I only really know Tokyo from, like, Atlas video games. So while we're in Ochanomizu right now, I'm like, "oh, right! Ochanomizu!"
It's a pattern the past month, right? It's the world we only know through screens. It's sorta like how Faye Wong thinks about California in Chungking Express, or how people think about New York generally. The architecture looks familiar. They decorate themselves endlessly in things I only see on zerochan or whatever. I got distracted by a store because they just idly had a Persona 3 poster that I was using as a phone background. It was just there.

The mood lately has been exhaustion, kind of burnt out. Japan'd out. Friends ask how I am -- I say "it's sorta like several lifetimes of stuff happened." But it's not quite true -- it's sorta like, three different trips happened. You can spend a month in Tokyo and not see everything. You could do a semester in Nagoya. You could live in Osaka, it's such a good city. We went to all these different places -- I only had two "don't explore" days this month (days <10km walked) and they were because I got sick, or, it was my birthday. We have spent basically all day every day together for longer than I have with anyone. It's not weird to ... slow it down, really.

I explored Akihabara a bit today. The vibe is bizarre; it's like if you took Denden Town and then 10x'd the maid cafe presence, and every other store was a computer store where the prices are about the same as home. Granted -- they do have a lot of Panasonic Let's notes with the circular trackpad and those aren't too pricy. I saw X1 Carbons for fairly less money than I paid for mine, though a lot less new. The used game stores had a huge selection if you like JP exclusives. I was hunting for Fate/stay night for the PS2, just to have the box. There was one copy in a shop for $30. Aw. (Saw Kanon and Clannad a lot too.)
The shops all had names like this, and the maids on the street are omnipresent, calling Welcome! and getting you to come in. I feel for anyone doing this work -- still, I have an irrational fear of maids right now. It's like when I see a nun. I think they're gonna kick me or find me unworthy. I will not see a therapist.
Around from the hotel is a German bakery -- and it really is German. I came in and Konnichiwa'd him and he said it back, then he got closer, smiled and said ... guten tag.



He only used German the rest of the transaction (a really nice blaubeerkuchen). Do I look German, now? Is it simply my un-Japanese-ness that means, oh sick we can talk German?

After getting a Shin Rizumu CD (this one, a CD-R release and one nobody has, I guess) and this lovely CD player, we checked in and I conked out a little and then decided to pick up a shirt I've only ever seen out here -- a single store sells them; they're mostly a South Korean designer brand.
Then I decided to make my way to Shibuya.
No, no it doesn't look like that. It has way more people. At least, once you get there. Walking up from the south, it was surprisingly quiet.
Then you turn a corner.
And another corner...
Suddenly, the city is here. I'd describe the density of Hachiko Square as like being in a packed concert. I don't know how you meet anyone here or do anything. But seeing this many people in one place is sort of overwhelming.
Not sure what the plan is for tomorrow yet. It was supposed to rain all weekend; it's just been extremely humid instead. If it does come down, I'm not sure what I'd do with myself ... I kind of want to see Ikebukuro for its own sake, maybe Shinjuku for its own sake ... if there's a more literary corner, I'd be interested in that, too.

Getting some dinner from the Family Mart a kid ran ahead to the counter and her dad was like no no, onee-san is ahead of you. Which is the first time I've been called that. I wasn't even aware people called strangers like that in third person...

I've been in Montreal again for a few days now. We landed September 30 at 17:00ish, after flying out at September 30 at 17:00ish, so that was a weird experience.

On the last day in Tokyo I went up to Ikebukuro and walked through Shinjuku into Shibuya. I went to the closest cafe that seemed like they had breakfast — they only had Hamburg steak, for some reason. A cat robot brought me my meal. I quietly said thank you to the robot and ate my meat.
I arbitrarily decided to go to Tower Records since I wasn't happy with the CD load. It was a cloudy day that quickly became rainy, but it was nice to just walk through Tokyo for hours and just watch the world go by. I love that every time I went to Tokyo, it ended up raining.
The city ended up feeling intriguing and different: clean, anonymous, quiet but loud, organised. I think you could spend a whole trip here, especially if you had friends in town to show you underground events. Still, I was happy I spent the month in Osaka. It ended up feeling like home.

We met up around 3 or 4pm to move to our last hotel (we had to book different hotels for different days). This one was in Kiba, which ended up feeling really remote and quiet, even though it's fairly close to downtown. The hotel itself was an older place — reviews complained about no air conditioning, but it had it when we were there. We finally had a view, which was a bittersweet thing for the last day.
Then, on Sunday night at 21:30, suddenly Monogatari comes on TV. This is basic cable. Basic cable includes Monogatari in Japan. This feels bizarre to me.
We kept the TV on and ate a practical buffet of convenience store food and just took it easy. Tower of God came on. Junji Ito Maniac came on. The deer show came on at ... 23:30 on a Sunday night? Isn't it a slice of life??

Then the next day, after watching some TVO Kids dubbed entertainment (they air Ontario children's programming with Japanese dubs? Why??) we did our final chores and went to the airport. I began to feel sadness and dread. I couldn't put my finger on it. We did some laps through the duty-free, but it was a lot of the same stuff you find anywhere: Metacil pencils, the tourist stuff, Pokemon plushies, Hi-Fi and electronic equipment that honestly just costs the same in Canada (though the other day in Akihabara I found some cool Roland headphones, I just couldn't see what I'd do with them).

Air Canada's whole preamble video for safety is meant to like showcase Beautiful Canada and the Japan flights have Japanese subtitles. It made for an intriguing combination.
13 hours later, after finishing The Sopranos season 1 and listening to a few records, we were home. I felt drained and resigned. Customs was more or less easy. Cabs took an age to get there — it's weirdly busy at the moment — but my Uber driver was a really kind Quebecois man who spent his university years in Tokyo and kept telling me to watch Shogun. He was just patiently like "welcome home". Canadians always say this when I get back and it always makes me feel better.

Did groceries. Unpacked. My sleeping is really messed up, where I sleep and get up for 5-6 hours at a time in a rotating schedule. I struggle to really understand why I did this trip. It was mostly for its own sake — the only thing that I felt like I desired in life was to see Japan. And I did, and then some. We ended up feeling almost like we saw Too Much Japan, like we went so far into the deep end and for so long that we got homesick early? Tokyo is gentler: you can basically get by in mostly English, there's a ton of expats and tourists and more genderweirds than outside of it. It feels like a city you can just fly into and hang out in, like you would New York or London or something. It feels like a part of the broader world. On the contrary: we wanted to get lost in the Japan-ness of Japan, and we really did. I got drunk on it. I feel homesick for canned coffee, for the trains and the walking. For God's sake, I even miss the hot humid weather. It's 13 degrees here.

I tried for a bit to use the same eyes on Montreal: we have so much I haven't seen. Why not just take a bus 2 hours north for no reason? Why not go into the countryside where, yet again, there's no English, and eat traditional cuisine and struggle to explain why you went there? I think for the sake of trial, I should do so a few times just to keep the curiosity alive. Otherwise: I'm going to New York soon, so I'll be on the road. Then I go to Charleston, SC.

I keep mixing up my foreign languages now. I "hai. hai. hai."d people knocking on my door informing me about their lost cat in French. I switch into JP expressions and do the hand thing up to your head where you say "no no it's okay" and bow.

The fog of war lifted on the map. Japan feels like a place I can just go now. I am not sure how much I want to go. It felt natural, the place I've seen my whole life, just Real, the dream land I walked through. And yet it felt different. It was scarier and less familiar than I thought — but hey, I'd only been to the US and Germany. I felt out of my element, aware of sticking out, more insecure about not conforming to the way everyone else looks, Other, and though I've become used to be a linguistic minority in Montreal, it's much more the case there, too.

Is it weird that I got more appreciation for what I am? I feel more of an identity of myself as a Canadian in a different place than I did at home. I felt more proud that I came from the place I did, that I can dress the way I do, that I can live the way I do, because I know that it can be different.

And I'm happy I did it. I'm happy I wrote about it here. I'm happy I took so many photos. I'm happy I ended up going to so many different towns, too. I just have to remember the life I had before, now. It feels like someone else's life.

I apologize it took me so long to write this. A day after your last post, I made a note and jotted down ideas that I’d hoped to finish by Saturday. It's been a week since then and. Clearly I got very distracted. This was an excellent thread and I enjoyed all of the pictures, everything you had to say, and that playlist too. Thank you for sharing your trip, maru.

When I come home from a long trip, the week following is something like mourning. Being home again and slipping into the old way felt tragic and weird. I desperately didn't want to, wanted my mission in life to never do the same thing again. The end of a trip like that is horrible for me. Traveling home is turmoil… I always cry on my way out. Cry before leaving, then at the train station, on the platform in the cold, or warm in airport terminal, while I’m sitting waiting to be picked up at a bus stop or sprinting to catch a train in the tube. Then when I’m home safe, it’s mourning. Maybe another small cry, maybe sleep, maybe awake all night. I start to seize on those sensations and want to explode or do something high effort, like do a big crash diet to put this sudden wave of energy to work. Since it’s invigorating, like losing a ton of weight. Of course I can’t slip back into this. My body has changed shape. I gotta get this thing tailored.

But it's usually in that order, some great sadness and then feeling pumped, then maybe nothing. One very powerful memory I have of coming home after a year was that all of it, the house, my bedroom, felt smaller. The corridor darker, dirtier, and very grey and cold. It was a grave, quiet drive all the way home, the situation was very bleak. Sometimes I think I'm still living in the afterglow of that feeling, like I'm still living in a dream. Maybe I'll wake up and be 4 years younger. Do it all again but make a bunch of higher-order mistakes.

I've been contemplating identity for a week. What it means to be me in particular, a couple of major facets of that, feeling a lot of anxiety and frustration and despair. But reading how you feel to be home, the perspective the trip gave you, reminded me I had those same sorts of feelings. And reminded me that theres a lot to appreciate when looking inward, contemplating the circumstances of one's birth. I don't feel it's accurate to say travel strengthens your convictions, but I think the thoughts it spurs probably lead to something like that. Reassessment, maybe rejuvenation. I hope you hold onto your happiness.

sinku wrote:

When I come home from a long trip, the week following is something like mourning. Being home again and slipping into the old way felt tragic and weird. I desperately didn't want to, wanted my mission in life to never do the same thing again. The end of a trip like that is horrible for me. Traveling home is turmoil… I always cry on my way out. Cry before leaving, then at the train station, on the platform in the cold, or warm in airport terminal, while I’m sitting waiting to be picked up at a bus stop or sprinting to catch a train in the tube. Then when I’m home safe, it’s mourning.

I didn't realise you felt that way — I feel like we're not supposed to, though? Like it means something bigger than just post-travel blues. Shouldn't everything feel "right"?

I've been contemplating identity for a week. What it means to be me in particular, a couple of major facets of that, feeling a lot of anxiety and frustration and despair. But reading how you feel to be home, the perspective the trip gave you, reminded me I had those same sorts of feelings. And reminded me that theres a lot to appreciate when looking inward, contemplating the circumstances of one's birth. I don't feel it's accurate to say travel strengthens your convictions, but I think the thoughts it spurs probably lead to something like that. Reassessment, maybe rejuvenation. I hope you hold onto your happiness.

It's strange; I'm in New York right now and whenever I feel stressed or emotional I go to the Japanese grocery and sip on barley tea and it's now like a security blanket. Japanese culture and language has always been that for me — and I guess it continues to be. Some faraway place somehow makes the world seem real, constant, outside these circumstances. The parallel universe is soothing simply because it is, and it is not you...

maru wrote:

I didn't realise you felt that way — I feel like we're not supposed to, though? Like it means something bigger than just post-travel blues. Shouldn't everything feel "right"?

I suppose it depends. On family holidays, I was certainly relieved to be home on a few occasions. But those there were always trips that sucked or where something occured that made it weird. While traveling independently, those trips were emotionally charged and became very important to me, so coming home didn't feel right. And there was plenty of concern instead, anxiety that I'd never be able to do such a thing again. Something could be wrong in those cases, but, isn't it normal to never want something you cherish to disappear?

It's strange; I'm in New York right now and whenever I feel stressed or emotional I go to the Japanese grocery and sip on barley tea and it's now like a security blanket. Japanese culture and language has always been that for me — and I guess it continues to be. Some faraway place somehow makes the world seem real, constant, outside these circumstances. The parallel universe is soothing simply because it is, and it is not you...

anti-maru is in the other world doing the same thing backwards to cancel out your relaxation, every freaking time.

amazing thread and great pictures.... i found the eloquent telling of so many tightly packed experiences and little anecdotes real freaking evocative

i wanna go to japan someday