One: 札幌

You don't really need any good, sensible reason to eat in the Nippon. Especially when you see something that looks this pretty and beckons you to "come forth and eat me, onegaishimasu".


I am on my way to a new Nippon city, where I've heard food is even more orgasmic than I've ever thought it could be. Probably more so than this pretty little bento box I've just picked up at the Haneda departure lobby.

I know, I should've just skipped this one and saved my gas for the final stop. But I am greedy. I am easily seduced. And it's only seven in the morning, it will be another two hours before my plane takes off, and probably another six more before I get to eat something in Orgasmic Food City. So, I am pardoned.



I am excited. From the moment I see the mountains and the greens from the window of my seat.

No - from the moment I made up my mind and booked this ticket.

I am excited when I step out of the station. The weather is wonderful. The wind is chilling. The air smells fresh. The buildings look quirky. The people look gorgeous but also more normal.

I am most excited because I am finally here, where I have always wanted to be.

In Sapporo.


It's only almost noon, and still a little too early for check-in.

I love all these budget hotels in the Nippon - they are clean, they provide free in-room internet connection, they give you everything (and by that, I mean, shampoo and conditioner). But I think sometimes they've just got to learn to be a little more flexible.

I get on with all the check-in procedures, nonetheless. They assign a room to me. I pay. But just no fuckin' key.

I dump my load into the luggage, dump the whole luggage with them. And I head out, without a shower.

Food before cleanliness, I suppose.



I know where I am going.

They say, "you've gotta do sushi in Otaru". I figure my way there. I think I'm seriously getting pretty good with figuring out all these kanji names.

I hop on the train again, for a thirty-minute-or-so ride. But I love what I see en route - the ocean.

小樽 is pretty. So fuckin' pretty. And it turns out very touristy, though. So I start supposing the little town has been prettified for the tourists.



I find it a cheap thrill, that they have all these rickshaws running around the roads!

Not trishaws, not like the ones on bicycles in Singers.

But rickshaws, like you have to pull them with your bloody arms.

And unlike the trishaw riders in Singers who are either old uncles or Chinatown bengs, the rickshaw pullers in Otaru actually look yummy.



I walk all the way to the famous Otaru canal.

I don't really know what the fuss is about this place, with all the tourists crowding around it. But it sure is a pretty sight. They say, you ought to see the canal in the evening, or at night. But I don't think I am looking for the romantic feel, and I love it the way it looks now. Against the blue blue sky.

There are old folks selling their craft and skills along the canal. Couple of them are singing, some are selling dolls, oil paintings and handcrafted accessories. I wish I could have my portrait pencil-sketched by one of the old men.

But I am really famished. So I have to move on.



Distraction!

I see these giant takoyaki-ball lookalikes. At 380 yen, I would've easily grabbed one. But it's freakin' huge - the poster says it measures 8 centimeters in diameter and weighs 200 grams.

So I resist.




I walk some bit more, and I finally find it! Sushiya-dori Street. Which basically just means a street full of "sushi houses".

I have absolutely no clue at all, so I spend maybe the next twenty minutes strolling up and down the street, wondering which house to enter. I don't know how I should choose. See who has prettier plastic foods in the window?

Finally, I decide. I will go to the one that looks old and authentic, simple and unattractive on the outside.



Round one.

MMmmmmMMMmmmmmMMMmmm.

Never had such orgasmic uni, ikura and otoro before. Like they practically melt and you can feel the full fats washing your entire mouth before flowing down your oesophagus.



Round two.

MMmmmmMMMmmmmmMMMmmm.

Never had such orgasmic uni, ikura and otoro before. Like they practically melt and you can feel the full fats washing your entire mouth before flowing down your oesophagus.


Verdict.

Otaru probably has the most orgasmic uni, ikura and otoro I've ever had. Like they practically melt and you can feel the full fats washing your entire mouth before flowing down your oesophagus.

And I am so bloated from just two rounds, I don't feel like I can eat anymore for the rest of the day. =/


It's almost 4.

I have to head back and get the key, so I can take a nap. I am feeling so full, and so sleepy now.

And I need a shower.

*****

Oh dear. It's almost 8.

I haven't had my shower, and I feel like I cannot wake up from this drowsiness.

But I have to get out. I haven't really felt the hunger yet, but I think I should have dinner.


Ah. It really is cold at night.

Train or walk? Train or walk? Train or walk?

I decide to walk. As usual. After all, I haven't exactly checked out Sapporo itself. And I want to work up that hunger.



すすきの is the next place I want to go to, and unfortunately it seems like a red-light district.

But strangely, I love Susukino. The lights, the energies, the good-looking folks walking around. And I know I won't be hassled, so I'm fine.



And just like the sushi street in Otaru, there is a Ramen Yokocho in Susukino. And it basically means a street full of ramen shops.

But unlike Sushiya-dori Street, this one is just a tiny, packed lane lined with ramen shops. The shops themselves are equally tiny. Some have no customers at all, some have long snakes of hungry people queueing outside.

Once again, I spend another ten minutes or so, walking up and down the lane, wondering which ramen shop to try.

This is easier. Skip the empty ones, and join the queues.



And of course, I am so smart. I pick the shop where SMAP has been to.

Hokkaido is famous for its ramen. Apparently, here you find one of the best ramens in the whole of Japan.

I am loving my huge bowl of char siu miso ramen. I have to do the miso ramen, because I think it had been invented in Hokkaido, and so it means you have to do miso ramen in Hokkaido.


Verdict.

MMmmmmMMMmmmmmMMMmmm.

I am never going to do any more ramen outside of Japan.