Last night was so surreal, I’m not sure it actually happened but this slight hangover tells me otherwise. As planned, after a day of utter laziness, Phil (Phiru in Japanese) and I set off to have a drink at one of those hidden dives I mentioned before. We stood outside being too chicken shit to go in for a minute because we had no idea what to expect except than it was going to be an intimate setting. We shouldn’t have worried because we pretty much ended up having one of the best and most memorable nights of our lives at this tiny bar .
In the day, you can’t even tell that it is a bar, but after sunset, the glowing lantern gives some indication.There are apparently a handful of these pintsized counter bars with enough room for only a few hidden all over the city, and have been since before World War 2. Inside this little wooden nomiya as they are called, were the two owners, an elderly husband and wife and this vivacious woman, eating her dinner and drinking soju and tomato juice. She loved us and a few minutes after she arrived, disappeared on a short walk where we’re sure she grabbed her friend and invited her back to the bar. They only spoke Japanese but knew a few words and phrases in English like ‘nice to meet you’, ‘peace’, ‘smile’ (sumairu) and how to sing Daniel Boone’s Beautiful Sunday in a booming, hearty voice. What the.
Despite my limited language skills, they talked to me in Japanese for hours and each bought us a huge bottle of Asahi as ‘puresento‘. I lost count of how many tiny glasses of beer I drank because these two little old ladies kept topping us up and saying ‘kanpai’ (cheers). Tomoko, the lady beside me reminded me awfully much of my paternal grandmother, she was so cute and kept hugging me. She kept giving me little gifts too, which threw me off a bit. She gave me a phone card worth more than ¥1000, an omiyage (souvenir) of a little cake filled with marzipan inside, a little dangly beaded trinket from her phone and her address on a piece of paper. I wrote her a little note in basic hiragana on a passport sized photograph and promised to write to her or call her.
When I stood up after, my legs almost buckled because I was so tipsy and hadn’t even realised. It was such a great little haunt. I didn’t take too many photos of the awesome decor but there were laughing buddhas, paintings, planters and all sorts. We were also given some some cold soba noodles and tofu – from the selection of food on the counter. I must warn you that in Japan if you receive snacks at a bar, it does not mean they are complimentary. If you choose to accept them, you will most likely be charged and we learnt this last night. But wow, for 900 all up, totally worth every yen.
