OKAY. So two days ago, while watching the latest apocalyptic news postings online about how everything north of Tokyo is going to die in a horrible nuclear reactor fire, making everyone's skin fall off while simultaneously forcing the growth of unnecessary limbs, I thought to myself;
"Hm. Maybe I don't need any new arms/noses... and I kind of like having skin..."
So after ECC decided to cancel training due to 'subway trains not running,' I grabbed my favourite 'running away from disaster' roommate (see post about Shinzuoka), and started packing a bag for Osaka. Just getting here was a bit of an adventure, to say the least. The lines to get a train ticket out of the city were over an hour long, and then the line itself to get onto the trains were just as bad. Everyone and their cats wanted to get the f*ck out of dodge. But I used the elbows Jebus gave me, and got on that motherf*cking train (proving to myself even further that I don't need any new elbows). I had to stand for 3 hours with my luggage in a smoking room on the train with dirty old Japanese business men trying to stare down my shirt, but I didn't care. The roommate found an awesomely cheap hostel in downtown Osaka, using her highly honed iPhone internet skills, which are actually just a byproduct from her amazing addiction to twitter.
Once we got to Osaka, I was hungry enough to eat the cardboard signs that everyone likes to hang in their windows, so we went to this adorable little restaurant that's supposed to be famous for selling Osaka's signature dish, called Okonomiyaki. Basically it's a fried omlette/pancake that puts the best omlette or pancake you've ever had to shame. It's not so much an omlette, but an amazing stack of eggs, cheese, meat, veggies, seafood and barbecue sauce in any combination you desire. Shaped like a 3 inch thick pancake. Observe;
So when you hear the words 'fish flakes,' what do you think of? Fish food? Fish dandruff? Certainly nothing appetizing. But in Japan, it's a CONDIMENT. Seriously. It's dried fish skin, that you're supposed to want to put on your food. Like ketchup. But it's fish skin.
So this is this incredibly giant walkway in the middle of Osaka, which is just miles of video arcades, restaurants, bars and the like. I think I could spend all my money here.
Moving on! So today, my roommate and I decided that it would be a good idea to get our re-entry permits from the immigration office, just in case we wanted to leave Japan and come back. Unfortunately, everyone in Osaka had the same idea.
This was our experience at the immigration office;
Number of times I have felt like a sheep being herded to the slaughterhouse = 3
Number of times I have been molestered by an aggressive old lady ramming her purse up my ass = 8
Number of cursing Frenchmen in the immigration office = 17
Hours spent waiting in a tightly packed room waiting for my re-entry visa = 3.5
Square footage of empty space in immigration office available = 0
Number of possible germs and cooties I have picked up by being in that room with every nationality on the face of the planet = infinity plus one.
So now I'm back at the youth hostel, and I'm going to get some awesome food, payed for me by some guy who thinks I'm a fascinating novelty, because I speak English. I'll let you know how it goes.