I woke on the floor. The tatami mat of our hotel room seemed to stretch for days before me. The traditional Japanese overnight experience was a little weird, but not too uncomfortable. My hip drove straight through the futon padding, but sleeping on my stomach was still a viable option.
My watch reminded me that I had five miles scheduled today, and I was ready to run. Last night’s uncomfortable introduction to Osaka was still on my mind, and I was anxious to find a different impression of the city. I started off early and without headphones, ready to explore. It didn’t take long to stumble across my first adventure of the day. Only a third of a mile into the run, I found the oldest continuously-maintained Buddhist temple in all of Japan. Of all the odds! It was called Shi-Tennoji. I ran past it for a few steps, but c’mon. My pace slowed to a crawl, and I turned around as I stopped my watch. I quietly climbed the stone steps.
The grounds were wide open, with some shrines in front of the temple itself. A few folks, mostly older, moved from shrine to shrine to pray. Despite being a sweaty white guy in a place of worship, I felt considerably more comfortable here than I did in Mr. Tanaka’s the night before. Respect is more important than appearances in a place like this, and my curiosity was pure. As I turned to leave, I heard cheery “good morning!” in English over my shoulder. An older lady, sitting beside the stone path, was waving at me. I was taken aback; Tokyo had made this kind of interaction seem impossible. Is Osaka just that different? “Good morning!” I chirped back, returning her wave. That little interaction improved my morning. I could feel my remnant tensions from last night dissipate in the cool morning air. I needed that.
Moments later I was run off the path by another little old lady, this one leaning over the handlebars of a bike and harboring zero sympathy for the runner who was lost in thought on the path ahead of her. As I jumped out of the way, she bombed off the pavement and onto the gravel without looking back. That’s the duality of Osaka right there: the spirit of the city summed up in two grandmotherly types. I love it. This run is what solidified Osaka in my mind as the Memphis Of The East.
Aside from that, the run itself was a bit boring. Because Osaka feels so much like home, I couldn’t help but feel like I’d seen a lot of this before. Yes it had a clear Japanese spin to it, but even Japan was feeling comfortable and familiar at this point. Some runs are just like that, even thousands of miles away from home.
After showering, I browsed Google Maps for our brunch spot. Pearl’s appeared to be like any other light meal and coffee restaurant I’d seen in Japan so far, but it was within walking distance and I had a good feeling about it. Those feelings were accurate: Pearl’s is where we had a couple fantastic conversations with locals.
The first started on the sidewalk, while we were waiting for a table. A bald white man in his 60s was also waiting for a table with his Japanese wife, and he struck up a conversation with us. His accent was a unique mix of Australian and English Midlands, and we traded stories about America, Australia, and England. This guy had made Japan his home for the past 30 years or so, and to hear him code switch from Aussie English to fluent Japanese was something to behold. We said goodbye as we got seated, only to find that we had been seated next to him. So the conversation continued over coffee, french toast, and sandwiches. We let him know that we were looking for costumes for the hotel’s Halloween party that night, and he recommended a truly massive dollar store called Don Quijote.
After he and his wife departed, an older Japanese woman struck up a conversation from the opposite table next to us. She said she hadn’t spoken English in something like 30-40 years and wanted to practice. She was the sweetest. She wanted to hear all about our trip, to talk about when she visited Hawaii in the 1980s, to give us advice about visiting Kyoto. Tokyo was so alienating, I can’t describe how nice it is to have a conversation with a local that wasn’t predicated on some kind of business exchange. Just three people shooting the shit and connecting on a human level. I didn’t realize how much I’d been missing that so far.
Once we finished our breakfast (or more accurately: once I finished both my and Zoomie’s breakfast), we decided to take the Aussie Man’s advice and hit up Don Quijote. It was a small walk, but Zoomie’s ankle was feeling good and I was nearly over my ultramarathon soreness. And man, this store. It’s like a Dollar General but at the scale of a Walmart Supercenter. Two floors of mostly cheap knick-knacks, shirts, souvenirs, beer, liquor, and yes Halloween costumes. We picked up postcards and some Hello Kitty Halloween headwear and called it good.
Since we were now in the neighborhood anyway, next was an essential visit to Shinsekai. Meaning “New World”, Shinsekai was meant to reflect Japan’s and Osaka’s bright future at the turn of the 20th century. In the center is the Tsutenkaku, a large metal tower meant to resemble the Eiffel Tower. The streets north of it radiate out like the streets of Paris. South of the tower is a grid, full of shops, food stalls, cork-shooting galleries, arcades, gacha machines, and every carnival treat you can dream of. They say this part of the neighborhood is inspired by Coney Island, but they didn’t have to tell me. It’s pretty on the nose.
Something else that I noticed at this point was the Billiken. It was everywhere. Which was surreal, because the only Billiken I was familiar with was the mascot of Saint Louis University back home. Turns out the Billiken was invented in Kansas City as a good luck charm, but in the early 1900s it came to Japan, where in Osaka it became intensely popular for a few years. It came to be associated with the city, to the extent that a wooden Billiken awaits at the top of Tsutenkaku. It’s supposed to be good luck if you rub his feet. We passed on that particular opportunity.
On the walk back, we passed another Buddhist shrine, Isshen-ji. The grounds were lovely and peaceful. There was a funeral service being conducted, so we couldn’t enter the temple, but that was just as well. We wandered the graves and admired the craftsmanship of the temple from the outside.
After a brief detour to explore a historical park called Chausuyama Hill, Zoomie and I returned to the hotel with our costumes. I was getting pretty hungry, and I quickly found a takoyaki booth near our hotel. Apparently this place has become legendary drunk food in the Tennoji neighborhood. It’s run by a husband and wife who were so accommodating. They didn’t speak a word of English, and I Japanese, but her sweetness and willingness to help us order was apparent. And the food was fantastic. We ordered takoyaki, fried chicken bits, and an onigiri. Would return again, although I never got the chance.
We also stopped by a Family Mart convenience store for a bottle of wine and some beer for the Halloween party at the hotel. We donned our Hello Kitty hats from Don Quijote, and at 6:30 we went to the lobby. A group of about 20 people from all around the globe – staff and guests – were gathered around the main table in the lobby, with a variety of snack food scattered between them. We hit it off with the group immediately. Showing up with a pile of booze may have had something to do with that. What followed was one of the highlights of my trip.
I met a couple of guys from Berlin, one of whom dropped his computer science degree to become a professional photographer. The other had zero tolerance for spicy food, and had a bit of a reckoning with a McNugget and some Blair’s hot sauce. Halfway through the party we put Game 1 of the Japan Series on the TV. The Hanshin Tigers were squaring off against the Orix Buffaloes – both local Osaka teams, which added to the drama. As I watched I struck up a conversation with a Canadian who was probably in his late 40s. Super fascinating guy, a seasoned backpacker. I got him talking enthusiastically about hockey, and becoming a guide in Africa in his 20s. He had the casual self-assurance of someone with that kind of worldly background. The type of person who’s fun to have in a group, even if you can never quite trust him. Great convo. Again, Osaka reveals itself to be more personable and friendly than Tokyo.
I kept sipping lager tall boys as the night went on, and got pretty tipsy. The German group decided to go to the local jazz bar at some point, and as the party would down I decided to join them. I would get halfway there until I realized that it was 11:30 PM and I was intoxicated in a foreign country. Maybe not the best idea. I didn’t need another drink. I turned around and set up my sleeping futon on the floor of my hotel room instead.
Shasta Runs 