Like many people born in 1991, I first became aware of Japan when someone handed me a Vulpix trading card. Back then, I didn’t know
It is late October 2019; the trees along either bank of the Motoyasu are starting to turn pale orange and yellow and drop leaves into
The steam rises, gently caressing the edges of the bamboo-pattern tiles. A pipe (real bamboo this time) brings bubbling, warm water from a hot spring.
I was sitting on a ferris wheel reading about John Bercow. Some people would call this rock bottom. I don’t know what it says about
I liked Korea. It wasn’t just the rich, easily accessible street food, or the strong coffee. It wasn’t just the suprising boisterousness of daily life-
In my more cynical moments, I’ve grumbled that all Japanese cities look the same, an endless expanse of YouMe malls, flat pack apartments and telegraph