I’ve always been a big fan of rain.
It always gives everything that like, chef’s kiss, you know? An extra dash of Drama. Some zest. Aesthetic. A Vibe, if you will.
It’s been raining on and off on this whole trip (barring Vietnam, which I’m still shocked that we got that lucky), so it’s nothing new. But still. Every time it happens, I’m shook anew.
Osaka’s rain is cool because it’s more than a drizzle but not a storm and the city is a lot calmer than other ones we’ve been to, so it’s easier to look around. The light the lamp posts are picked up by the wet ground and projected out, giving everything a yellow glow. It also has a full array of luminescent signs that get reflected in the puddles, providing even more color to the otherwise dark night. The light also bounces off of the the clear umbrellas everyone here has.
(Actually, an aside: I’m uncertain about the umbrella situation. There are racks outside of stores and the metro and people just leave the umbrellas there. So there’s the hope that people won’t steal your stuff. Or, the umbrellas are public property and you just take and return. Either way, there’s a deep faith in humanity going on here. Also, either way, I might take one to try out the Clear Umbrella Experience.)
But we’ve now taken shelter in a sushi place, which is very very dangerous. Kelly says that it’s only about a 100 yen per plate, so we’re about to feast, if we can figure out when they’ve called our number. But for now, we wait and I write.
I know I said that Osaka was calmer, but that doesn’t mean that it doesn’t still have a whole lot going on. I think what’s cool about a lot of the cities that we’ve seen is that there are layers to them and a lot to see beyond the initial front, even if the initial front is already a lot to take in. They all have alleyways and upstairs restaurant. Some nondescript buildings have stores that have about 5 or 6 floors of Stuff. The electronic store has lighting that makes your eyes hurt and feel like you’ve maybe been in there for a lot longer than you thought.
And there are also casinos just around. We wandered in to one on accident because we thought it was a movie theatre. The first clue that we were incorrect about this assumption was a literal roaring sound. You could have been standing underneath a huge waterfall and not been able to tell the difference. It looked and smelled like we had walked right off an Osaka street and onto a casino floor in Vegas. It was dark in there too, with the only source of light coming from the neon screens. That combo makes you feel secluded but also exposed, which is confusing but very real.
One of the best things about traveling with Marisa is that she wants to try things. Not only does she want to try them, she will make it happen and is not afraid to ask about stuff. That is how we found ourselves holding manga style instruction pamphlets on how to play Pachinko, which is what the slots were.
We settled into a spot after an unsuccessful read through. I tried to watch one of the guys playing, but his movements were too fluid and spoke of a level of experience that I couldn’t hope to comprehend. Eventually we gave up. I wasn’t ready to spend ten dollars on a bet that I could figure out how to play and get some of my money back.
After that we decided it was time for dinner. And here we are now. I’m not sure what this place is called but it has a conveyor belt and it’s own bike parking, so it seems lit.
–
I was right.
That place was lit.
I’ve been to conveyor belt sushi before, but nothing like that. There’s a general belt, that has assorted goods in pods cruising past for the taking (there was definitely a learning curve to getting the pods open but we got it eventually. Well my friends did, I continued to struggle). But, there’s another belt. And this one is special. Say you really really liked that seared salmon and cheese nigiri, but another plate of it hasn’t rolled past you in a while. No worries. There’s a cool screen where you can click a few buttons, select your desired dish, and then, the top conveyor belt starts moving, and suddenly you have a plate hurtling toward you at a speed that implies they know how bad you wanted that sushi. And then it stops at your table. Right in front of you, just an arms length away.
Anyways, I cried a lot at dinner, especially at dessert (If you follow Kelly’s stories on instagram, you know this).
But now we are back at the room. I made us walk because it’s raining and we can’t waste that.
I am now unpopular but my aesthetic meter has been satisfied for the evening.
“I love sushi but I have a passion for dessert” -Marisa, when confronted with the dessert menu and whether or not to order more food before perusing
–
“This is about eating”
“Yeeting and eating”
-Kelly and Marisa, at dinner when talking about how the plates Yeet out to you
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