Canal City was an ideal place to go for mouth-watering ramen. It houses Ichiran Ramen, a Japanese ramen chain originating in Fukuoka, which is considered to be one of the best shops to eat tonkotsu ramen in Japan.

After buying our tickets at the machine outside the shop, Tweety and I walked in and noted the individual seating booths, with each station accompanied by a curtain that separated the customer from the staff. I loved the idea of having minimal to no interaction with staff, customers, and even my fellow friend. Simply being in the moment with my food, in silence, was a very pleasant eating experience. In fact, for an introvert like myself, it would’ve constituted my ideal eating venue.

Once seated, I handed my ticket to the staff member — whose face was anonymous — and then proceeded to filling out a form where I was asked to check off how I preferred my dish: from mild to spicy, from a pinch of garlic gloves to whole ones, and from soft to firm noodles. I could also save some broth for a second serving of noodles if I was still hungry. I was full of course, but I felt unbelievably satisfied — it was one of the most delicious dishes I had eaten in Japan.

Moomin Bakery & Cafe: Inspired by Moomin (Swedish: Moomintroll), a Finnish children’s book series with Moomin characters, a family of fairy tale animals with large noses that resemble hippos

Moomin’s family and friends dispersed around the cafe

Moominmama

Little My

Breakfast with Moominmama!

After having ramen for lunch, we walked on and stumbled upon the Moomin Bakery & Cafe. THE MOOOOMIN CAFE! I wish words could do my feelings justice because when I saw it that day, I died; rainbows, stars, and unicorns returned and began circling my head. I mean, look at the big snout of this hippo family — so friggin’ cute I couldn’t deal with my emotions.

I had discovered the cafe a few years ago here on WordPress when I saw a photo of a lovely young woman sitting with a fluffy plush. “I’ve got to go there!” I thought to myself excitedly. Whether the cafe was created to accompany lonely souls, those seeking company when dining alone, or just for the sake of creativity and ingenuity, I loved it regardless — I thought it was darn adorable. It’s not like I don’t dine with my stuffed animals at home anyway, so this idea wasn’t new to me. Move along, friends, move along…

That day, we had already had lunch, so while Tweety was ordering ice cream, I sat on the bench outside the jam-packed cafe and happily observed the commotion inside. Adamant about dining with Moomin, we then made a pact to return the following morning for breakfast. (Bless her heart for putting up with my wild obsession with Moomin.) The food was subpar, but who are we kidding? I came here for the fluffy experience — and a fluffy experience it was.

Fukuoka’s Gokoku Shrine

Ohori Park

Fukuoka is home to some wondrous public spaces

Shops selling bento boxes are readily available in train stations in Japan, because there, it’s tradition for passengers to buy a bento to-go for their train journeys, which I thought was really stinkin’ cute. Since it was my final Shinkansen ride back to Fukuoka — a five to six-hour journey, roughly — I bought a bento box for the ultimate Japanese bullet train experience. And boy, was it a cutesy experience, eating from a bento while observing the fine sceneries and dreaming away.

Being back in Fukuoka felt reassuring; I knew that I’d be returning to Phnom Penh soon. But more importantly, I missed Fukuoka, and came to appreciate its low key vibe only after returning from Tokyo. I was also glad to be back at the hostel — back to beginnings, as they say — and to see familiar friendly faces. Except that when I returned to my old room this time, a new roommate was awaiting me, and her name was Tweety.

That’s one of the best things about hostels: you meet people from all over the world and from all walks of life. Tweety was from Hong Kong and when I learned that that was her name given to her by her father, I died inside because it was too darn cute. “Your dad must have the best sense of humour,” I laughed. Needless to say, we got on well, as if we’d been friends for years. And for what little time we had left in Japan, we spent it together.

Yanagibashi Fish Market

Seafood cakes

The day that we explored the vicinity of the Yanagibashi Fish Market could’ve been said to be the day I went to dango heaven — I stumbled upon this delicious sweet everywhere I went! I could eat dango all day every day, and Tweety can attest to it, because that’s precisely what had happened.

Hiyoko green tea sweets

Tweety invited me into a sweets shop that sold these adorable baby chick green tea desserts, as she wanted to purchase them for her brother who’s a big fan of them. I saw them quite often in souvenir shops at the airport and in train stations as well as in department stores, and since I was curious and loved green tea desserts myself, I decided to buy them for a treat for my mother. She absolutely loved them!

Ideal field trip? A Japanese supermarket. Here’s our basket of snacks

What took up space in my luggage…

On my last day in Tokyo, there was a final task that I was set to accomplish: eat taiyaki, a classic Japanese sweet snack in the form of a fish-shaped cake filled with azuki red bean paste. I tried googling some of the best authentic spots to eat it in Tokyo, and decided to venture to the one nearest to me: Taiyaki Wakaba.

Wakaba, situated about a 10-minute walk from Yotsuya Station, is apparently one of the oldest and most popular taiyaki establishments in Tokyo. Go figure, when I asked strangers for directions, they all smiled enthusiastically and were eager to show me the way. “This place must be really good to have locals know its whereabouts upon hearing its name,” I thought to myself excitedly.

Rain was pouring heavily during my adventure to find this renowned gem, but that made the journey ever more exciting. Having warm out-of-the-oven taiyaki on a rainy morning constituted my ideal start to the day. And my ideal morning it was, for when I arrived at the shop, it was nice and empty and quiet — just how I like it. After all, it was still early in the morning and I was the first one there.

The lady at the counter was lovely; upon entering, I was greeted with a warm smile and friendly questions about my country of origin. In turn, I asked her about the history of the shop. After a brief and pleasant exchange, I ordered a taiyaki to-stay, found a comfortable spot in the corner, poured myself some green tea (complimentary of the shop), and then proceeded to spending the next few minutes in taiyaki heaven.

After having tried the original taiyaki, I was bent on trying a progressive version of it: the taiyaki croissant, which I came across at the Ameyoko Market. This version had the same red bean filling as the original, but the pastry was a croissant — an exquisite hybrid!

Takeshita Street in Harajuku District

I knew I wouldn’t be hibernating in Harajuku for long given the monstrous crowds and my lack of interest in shopping in general (there, I said it), but it was a treat to give it a visit nonetheless — very lively and colourful.

Harajuku, as is often depicted in the tickles and pickles of the media and world of Japanese pop culture, is a district in Shibuya, Tokyo bustling with fashion boutiques, restaurants and cafes, and gift shops. It’s no secret that it’s a joint widely frequented by the young and hip generation with a flair for all-things fashion — and with that comes all-things quirky and unique.

First experience eating sushi at a stand-up booth

A morning stroll along the Meguro River, where cherry blossoms abound in the springtime.

Vicinity of Shinjuku station

Shops in Shinjuku

Infamous Hachiko statue outside of Shibuya station

Hooray for having crossed the Shibuya Crossing and doing a little bit of the Shibuya dance! Although I didn’t get to snap a photo of the infamous crossing, I did take some photos of it from different angles. Frankly, I feared that if I stopped I’d be knocked down like a bowling pin.

It was a ritual for me to unwind at Ueno Park every evening before heading home. One evening, I walked far and wide in the vicinity of the park in search of an ice cream cone, where I later learned that this park was far more gigantic than I had imagined. This search led me to a little amusement park where the perfect cone awaited me: a cherry blossom vanilla swirl! But before getting one, I was prompted to a nearby vending machine to purchase a ticket first — a rather fun process.

The evening was young, the air was warm, and kids were running to and fro; and there I was, sitting on a bench with an ice cream cone in hand, on cloud 9. “I feel like a pedophile watching kids from a distance,” I laughed to myself. But then again, what’s a little girl of 5’0 in a polkadot dress with an ice cream cone in hand gonna do, really? Needless to say, it was a lovely night; I felt like a kid all over again at the amusement part. And the best part? I was alone.

Wrapping up my evening at the Ueno Toshogu Shrine. The walk through the gateway was surreal; I felt transported to ancient times.

Kyoto Station, waiting for the Shinkansen to Tokyo

When I was in Japan, I didn’t plan my stays; the night prior, I’d simply read reviews about hostels and book and go. This applied to Tokyo, except that since everything was widely dispersed and there really wasn’t one best area to stay, all that mattered was that I was close to a subway station. And luckily for me, I was. Only, after reading more reviews about my district one night, I realized that I was in the vicinity of love hotels. “Oh, great,” I whispered to myself.

Something to note from my experience is that even in the midst of streets crowned with love hotels or the random anime sex shop — which I later learned that my abode wasn’t actually that close to — there wasn’t a time when I felt a sense of unease or discomfort. In other places of the world, I probably would have — but certainly not in Tokyo. Everything felt normal to me. Sometimes I’d even see parents and their kids or an elderly couple walking by these joints — life resumed as usual. These perks were part of Tokyo’s idiosyncratic identity in all its rays of colour, and frankly, I appreciated it.

The only glitch I experienced in Tokyo emanated from my own inadequacy as a human being. I had mentioned it in a previous post, but my sense of direction is abysmal. It was a common theme for me to do a tour around the world before settling into my abode. Again, I couldn’t find my hostel when I arrived in Tokyo, so I ended up walking in circles, and in the process, discovered some interesting love hotels. (Insert sarcastic laugh here.) “Not too shabby,” I thought as I walked into one to inquire about directions. The mysterious lady behind the reception desk and the warm air and smell of cigarettes made me think of Murakami’s novels (as does everything I encounter in life).

If there’s something I appreciated deeply about Japan, it’s the people. This was the second time I couldn’t find my hostel, and the second time strangers would go out of their way to ensure that I arrived at my destination. Even if they didn’t know the directions themselves, they’d ask fellow passersby for help. As with Kyoto, in Tokyo a stranger dropped what they were doing and walked me to my hostel. It’s been my experience that no matter where I went, I found home in the hospitality of the people around me.

After checking into my hostel and doing my laundry — because that’s the first thing everyone would do when they arrive in Tokyo — I was on my way to Ueno Station to sniff out the Ameyoko Market, which I learned was similar to a Bangkok-style street market. There was a lot of food, stuff, and people. Especially people — so much so that our heels would kiss. Suffice it to say, I left immediately.

Across the street from Ameyoko Market, I came across a sign outside of a bakery that advertised these cute animal-shaped sweet buns. “My people are calling me home,” I thought as I excitedly walked in. Look at those pandas! I couldn’t resist so I bought one and enjoyed it at Uneo Park. It was a pleasant surprise because it had a sweet custard in the middle.

Here I could get a glimpse of Uneo Station, the entrance to the Ameyoko Market, and even the bakery selling adorable panda buns. Behind me was a set of stairs leading to Ueno Park, one of my favourite places to unwind in Tokyo.

What’s neat about Tokyo is that the hustle and bustle and the serene parallel each other at every corner. If I wanted to escape an overly crowded commercial area, then nature was awaiting me somewhere, and oftentimes it was only a few steps away.

Tokyo must’ve been quite a glamorous sight after dark with its usual hustle and bustle, its bodies of people and cars in constant motion, and its infamous nightlife. But I don’t have a single photo of Japan at night — and that’s because I was never out after dark.

If there’s something you ought to know, it’s this: my sense of direction needs crutches, and on top of that, I have poor eyesight. Those two factors mingling together, and you have me: a lady sloth roaming aimlessly at night. I had to take photos of the streets surrounding my hostels just so that I could find my way back; and if that proved challenging during the day — I walked in endless circles every day by the way, which was quite the workout — then when night rolls around, I ain’t comin’ home, that’s for sure.

I had time to kill and a JR Pass to make efficient use of, so I decided to leave Kyoto and explore a neighbouring city for the day. Walking towards Kyoto Station, I didn’t know where I wanted to go; it was only until I arrived at the train platform that I spontaneously chose Nara. And who knew a wild adventure was awaiting me? No one. Except that one deer, apparently.

If you visit Nara, chances are, Nara Park is one of the sites that you’d want to visit — and for good reason: You get to feed the deer! I admit that this weighed heavily on my spur-of-the-moment decision to venture here. After all, the deer are cute and uber friendly. (So it goes.)

“It’s not every day that I get a chance to feed deer in Japan, so I might as well buy deer biscuits and do some good in my life,” I rationalized when I saw a stand selling deer biscuits for 150 Yen at the crosswalk. Little did I know, I was inviting trouble for myself.

Walking off with a package of biscuits in hand, I found my first pal, a seemingly well-mannered and friendly deer. At first it nodded and bowed its head in compliance, but soon it grew impatient and demanded all the biscuits I had in my hands, plus my clothes and pretty much everything in existence I had on me. Tugging at my shirt repeatedly, its teeth grinded into the skin of my abdomen. (I still have scar marks. Not sure if I’ll die from infections, but hey, at least I got some vaccines.)

I thought one was bad. Then came a second one. “Aw, shit,” I thought. To get Clyde off of me, plus its partner in crime, Bonnie, I did what any sane person would do: feed it my pamphlets and jet. If you have deer climbing you like a tree, you sure as hell ain’t gon’ stand there helplessly. (I’m sure it was a comedic show for bystanders to watch.)

Moral of the story: Don’t trust any deer, or anything that looks cute for that matter.

After the incident, I laughed at myself (a common theme and occurrence in my life). I even bought a coin pouch with a deer on it from a souvenir shop to remind myself of the comical experience, because frankly, there’s no better memory of Nara than this.

I had spent only a day in Nara, but I loved it, especially this park where I ate lunch and proceeded to spending the rest of my day. With subtle winds brushing against my cheek, it was the perfect atmosphere for me to do what I do best in my natural habitat: zone out, disconnect, and recharge. It was also entertaining watching school kids in uniform taking group selfies.

Evening rolled around and I made it back to Kyoto. I did what I usually do when I arrive at my guesthouse: sit on the chair outside and just breathe.

Across from me was a local family-owned restaurant that tickled my fancy since the first day I arrived, as it specializes in tonkatsu, a Japanese dish that consists of a breaded, deep-fried pork cutlet, which I’ve been wanting to try. Since it was my last night in Kyoto, I knew I had to give this place a go.

Walking in, I was greeted by a lovely grandmother who led me to my table and gave me a menu. Her daughter, which I’d see playing with a little girl (presumably her own daughter) every day, was the cook. I watched her work her expertise, while wishing that the next plate was mine.

Minutes later, the food arrived. The tonkatsu was served with cabbage, mashed potatoes, miso soup, and pickled veggies. The food was plenty with my side order of rice, and I tried polishing my plate to no avail — everything was delicious.

The establishment exuded a peaceful atmosphere with only the news on the television as background noise, which the grandmother would pause to absorb every now and then. Locals, all of whom were men, ate away in silence; and as a foreigner and a young woman eating alone, I didn’t feel alienated as anticipated — I felt like I belonged.

The night was young, but still, I had some packing to do, so I sheepishly walked out the door and into my guesthouse. The next day was a big day: I was off to Tokyo.