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First off, this car—man, it’s basic as hell. Born in ‘81, Ford said, “Let’s slap some wheels on a shoebox!” And bam, Escort hit the streets, cheap, ugly, but loyal—like that friend who’s broke but shows up anyway. I’m talkin’ 1.6-liter engine, sputterin’ like an old man coughin’, but it hauled ass for the everyman. Gas mileage? Sweet lord, it sipped fuel like a nun sips wine—30, 40 miles a gallon, savin’ pennies in the ‘80s when gas prices had folks sweatin’.

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I finally park near Tajimi Station. It’s bustling, man! People everywhere. I’m just trying to find a coffee shop. I need caffeine, like, yesterday. I spot this cute little place called “Café de Lune.” Sounds fancy, right? I walk in, and it’s packed. I mean, who knew coffee was such a big deal here?

Tokyo’s ambassador to Tehran visits Japanese kiln reviving Persian pottery