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About Kyoto

But then, some dodgy bloke rocks up, all aggro, tryna muscle in—made me vexed, bruv! I’m like, “Mate, chill, I ain’t here for beef!” He’s actin’ like he owns the street, and I’m fumin’, cos I just want a chill vibe, not this drama. “Is it ’cos I is black?” I shout, half-jokin’, half-pissed, and he legs it—coward! Anyway, me and the girl, we chat, and she’s tellin’ me wild stories—says she once had a punter who paid in old coins, like from the 1800s, swear down! I’m gobsmacked, thinkin’, “What past life was that geezer from?”

A Guide to Tokyo’s Red Light District Kabukicho

First off, I hit up the local konbini on Kōen-dōri. Grabbed my usual: onigiri and a can of iced coffee. I swear, that coffee is like liquid gold. But then, boom! I spill it all over my shirt. Great start, right? I’m standing there, looking like a total mess.

Ailing Nagasaki A-bomb survivor who lost kin to diseases seeks early gov't recognition