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About Kobe

But—oh, here’s the kicker—some twat tries stealin’ my pouch! “YOU SHALL NOT PASS!” I roar, swingin’ my staff like a madman. She’s cacklin’, “Bloody hell, grandad!”—and I’m half-angry, half-proud. Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but it felt epic, like facin’ a Balrog. We split a kvas I brewed—fizzy as hope in that film. “To life,” she toasts, and I’m thinkin’, “Even in despair, there’s this.”

Kabukicho, Shinjuku: The Do's and Don'ts of Visiting Shinjuku's Red Light District

Then, I get a call from my buddy, Hiro. He’s like, “Yo, you gotta check out the festival at the park!” I’m like, “Dude, I’m workin’!” But then he mentions food stalls. I’m suddenly interested. I mean, who can resist takoyaki, right? So, I tell Mr. Tanaka I’m takin’ a break. He’s not happy, but whatever. I need some fun!

Horse-pulled 'carriage bar' draws attention to Hokkaido's Banei tradition