OSAKA x KYOTO: A Throwback

We landed at night. Greeted by neon lit Japanese signs and indie bands on the streets.
It was amazing, bordering surreal.
A dream destination coming true-- made even more official by "checking in" on Facebook, a feature I never used until that night.

"Hello, Japan!" I said.
"Are you ready for me?" Japan shot back.

In the middle of my made up conversations with Japan, I was pulled into a group of ad slaves ready for the first mission-- to search for a pub.
So we braved the -3 degree weather at 12MN in search for one.

While on the mission, language proved to be a barrier when asking for directions--

Incident 1:
Guy 1: "Sir, beer pub? Where?"
*guy answers in Japanese*
Girl 1: Shucks nag-Japanese na! Sinong nagbabasa ng manga dito? Talk to him-- NOW!

Incident 2:

Guy 1: "They said the pub is in 'Duro Duro!'"
Guy 2: "Dulo?"
Guy 3: "No! Turo-turo daw!"
Guy 4: "May turo-turo sa Japan?!" 

So we walked-- back and forth. For an hour.
Imagine: ten mad men from Manila, all dressed up in heavy coats, went all the way to Osaka for a bottle of beer.
Classy. Almost expected. Tireless.

But we eventually ended up in a hidden Irish pub, with the help of some Japanese school girls (they are real!).
Fortunately, they did have a good selection of beers.
Unfortunately, they were sold at 400 pesos a bottle.
Hearts crashed on the floor, pockets ripped open.
"That's some baby's f*ckin milk supply, dude!" exclaimed one flabbergasted copywriter.
But there's a reason why "YOLO" existed as a (false) excuse for anything impulsive and arguably illogical.
So we bought. With one eye closed.

On our second night, we stumbled upon a kitchy-er bar.
It was so small half of our company filled the place, unconsciously pushing the locals out on the streets.
The drink list on the menu looked good...
until we realized a tequilla shot would be damaging not just to the liver but to the wallet.
Two hundred pesos per shot.

There's a reason why I was sober throughout the trip.

Also, my only decent photo inside a bar belongs to an officemate. Which I happily nicked out of her Facebook. (And that neon green shot glass? Yup, 200 bucks.)

Our trip isn't all about our livers partying, though (believe it or not).
We are cultured dorks, too. Although probably more dorky than cultured.

In the trip that allowed us to prance about Osaka and Kyoto, it's almost shameful to say that their trees alone satisfied us.
The trees were beautiful. Its leaves breathtaking.
They came in reds, oranges, and yellows. Uy walang ganyan sa Pinas! we exclaimed in chorus. And in true Pinoy fashion, we hoarded (stepped-on) leaves that fell to the ground.
"Hey! That's my red leaf!" we shouted as we ran for the nearest red maple leaf.
Japanese men and women looked at us funny.
But we were just happy to get some that we could dry out in between our books and journals.

In Kyoto, we died in sushi and sashimi heaven. It was art in a plate (or in this case, platesssss).

Also, the best salmon sashimi is in Kyoto. THE BEST.

And then there were ramen bowls. With soup so unforgettable in its thick, savory, oily goodness. Topped with roasted pork slices and ramen noodles that are perfect in every big bite.
Suffice to say that happiness can indeed be bought.
In this case, it only went for 750 Japanese Yen.

And finally, geishas.
A face so iconic it would be a pity not to see one while you're in Japan.
And I was overwhelmed when we finally saw one-- no, two!
Two geishas. In the flesh.
Too graceful. Too refined.
All of a sudden I looked and felt bakya beside them.

By then, I knew-- Japan liked me enough to share its beauty so generously.
To share its huge shopping districts with high five-ing Japanese school girls and kids.
To share sweet Japanese grandfathers who own vintage stores (and would eventually give me a vintage book for free).
To share its different flavored Kit-Kats ranging from weird to weirdest.
To share its warm, welcoming hugs despite the freezing weather.





And on our last night, we found ourselves back in the Irish Pub where everything started-- ready to sacrifice the last few coins for one round of drinks.
We danced, and laughed, and gulped down our beers (ever so slowly) for one last time.

As I grabbed my coat on the way out of the pub, I secretly smiled.
Thankful that one of my dreams came true--

and I was living it right at that very moment.



29 November - 03 December 2012