Swingers in Saunas

 Takayama: see Matsumoto

Okay, maybe that’s a bit harsh and I feel like I should already be saying, “It’s not you, it’s me.” I can just tell that these “authentic historic/geisha/samurai districts” are gonna get pretty old pretty quick. Get ready to cue the “Cathedral, cathedral, cathedral” theme song.

But hey, let’s keep an open mind here. Truth be told, old Takayama had a few tricks up her kimono. 

So let’s get The District out of the way first.

This one is just to show you that I was out there taking one for the team in a snowstorm.

Sake brewery. Free samples. Mmmmm

I think you get the whole “Edo period” vibe. They are quite classically Japanese, in spite of the fact that they’ve mostly been converted into stores shucking either food or kitch. C’est la vie. I’m not going to show you any more of these unless it’s something stunning - or weird.

There were, however, a couple of other unexpected treats. Yay!

This is the Festival Exhibition Hall, where they store the floats used in their annual bash - one which they actually say, in true Japanese fashion, is “not that big”. Swear to God. Look at the size of those things.

This fucker weighs over 80 tons and, since it has no wheels, has to be carried by 80 men taking turns every 10 minutes. WTF?

And here’s the Yoshijima Heritage House, built by a fat cat merchant. To be honest, while I was impressed by both the architecture and the craftsmanship, my overriding feeling was “it is colder than a witch’s tit in here”. Traditional Japanese ryokan? No thanks.

And now that we’ve dispensed with the trivial, let’s move on to the essential - FOOD. I’ve been on a bit of a quest, seeking out the hidden, hole-in-the-wall joints and I gotta tell you, I’m on a bit of a roll.

Sushi Nob (I know, I know. Disquieting) 

This is a one man show. He makes everything as you order and was constantly apologizing for the wait. Like I gave a shit. I ended up getting hida beef (some kind of big deal here) and his pick (no idea). Both literally melted in my mouth.

Next morning I went to Coffee Don and had Grandma & Grandpa make me toast, coffee, juice and a hard boiled egg. Just look at that bread!

Here’s the best thing though. Check out the menu, especially the bottom right of the first page. If you have any idea what that means, please let me know.

In case you can’t actually read it, it says:

Dear customer

Menu shooting prohibited

And now, the pièce de résistance, as we say in the gourmet food biz: Heinraku.

Okay, so first you have to apply via email. Then, assuming you pass the test, they send you a confirmation which contains your secret password (mine was “dragon”). I loved this place already. So I show up on the appointed day at the appointed time and proudly announce my password to The Lady of the House, a diminutive, bespectacled dynamo, who escorts me to my seat, while chirping endlessly into my ear.

“So happy to have you. Where are you from? Oh, I know Canada. Look, here is my world atlas. Show me your city. What a pleasure. Arigato goizainasu.”

Meanwhile, her husband, a man of few words, paces back and forth behind the counter, assembling ingredients and, I believe, assessing my worthiness for his creations. There’s just me, a young couple from Germany (who, thanks to the hostess, I get to know far better than I would have thought possible) and our hosts. It’s like a bizarre, yet intimate, dinner party.

Well, I’m into it now, so I go all in and leave it up to my new best friends to decide what I’ll be eating. Here we go. It’s also important to keep in mind that there’s a constant soundtrack while the wife scurries back and forth about how it’s all local, how they’re preparing it, how good it is for me, and “Honey, where’d you put that tofu?” which, as far as I’m concerned, only adds to the ambiance.

Course #1: coleslaw, beans, green stuff (I can’t remember exactly what), tofu and a potato - a SPECIAL potato. Again, no idea why.

Course #2: pork and chicken dumplings with some dipping sauce that looked simple to me but, according to Yoko, had at least 5 ingredients

Course #3: a special local tofu with chicken and yet another secret sauce

I also had a pudding and pastry dessert with tea, but by that time I was too comatose to bother taking a photo. You know that feeling after a turkey Christmas dinner? Uh-huh. Needless to say, I wasn’t allowed to leave without signing the World Atlas and receiving a demure Japanese hug.

What a meal! What an experience! I was hoping that they might suggest adopting me, but, yeah, that might have been a bit much.

Japanese Fun Fact

I noticed these men in uniform riding around in every city on those little red 50 cc Honda scooters from the 60s. What the hell was that about? Well, it turns out they’re not pizza guys, they’re mailmen. Yep, that’s how it’s delivered here. He rides up your street, hops off while flipping out the kickstand in one smooth motion, and puts it right in your mailbox. Fucking Japan.