PRJ.JPN

Overnight flight is way better than expected. “I don't need to turn my head right anyway, and that Accountant movie was so bad it was even good!” — my first thought after landing. I am longing for a moment when we get to the hotel so I can sleep a bit. We get one correct train, one wrong direction train, and then switch to correct train again. A little bit of walking, four sets of stairs, three escalators, and 350 m later, we are in the hotel elevator. It goes buttery smooth and quiet. A few passport scans on the registration, and finally, a room. It is small, but there is a space to put our suitcases, a small desk, a bathroom with a small bathtub, and, as it turns out, all the amenities you need for a comfortable stay. The weather is fine, and we probably can sleep when we are back home…

Small restaurant. Narrow room with bar stools on one side and a few small tables on the other. The furniture has seen better days. In the corner, there is a machine for ordering whose function is mirrored by tablets near the sitting spots. It smells like a mix of spices, broth, and wet rugs. There is a chef behind the bar. He casually glances at the order receipt, greets new visitors, and yells a dish name. After the yell, somebody stands up, no rush, takes the bowl and is back to their table. In a second, you will hear the slurping sound and the sound of switching reels. First spoonful of udon broth immediately hits my taste buds. An overwhelming explosion of flavor fires rarely used neural chains cranking up olfactory resolution. Hopefully, not forever. The smell, the texture, the appearance. Every single thing about this seemingly simple comfort food is on point. I am pretty sure my facial expression is the same as that of a deaf toddler first introduced to a hearing aid.