Hanshin Henshin, Final

Damn, it's really about time I finished this Osaka travelogue up, though in all honesty there's not much to say about the home stretch.

First let me mildly rant about the Osaka night scene and how horrible it is when you're alone. I'll concede that I'm no expert on the place after being in town a grand total of three times, but you'd think that around Dotonbori, where one can look down a street and scarcely see the end of the bars lining each side, that there's something to stimulate the solo bar crawler mind. Nothing. Zilch. The bartenders weren't talkative and, for once in my life in Japan, neither were the drunken salarymen. That last bit might be a blessing, however. If anyone out there has any recommendations for interesting Osaka drinking spots please let me know.

Anyways, after my deathlike sleep in a wall coffin for the second night I was rearing to hit the road back to Kobe to make my 6PM boat home. First, though, Osaka had a few charms left to offer up. Breakfast was an unbelievably cheap and delicious Chinese place I found in the tangle of streets around Shinbashi. Around 300 J-bucks for a heaping bowl of mapo tofu and the same for a large plate of gyoza, I haven't eaten Chinese that good since SF. I find it strange that Japan has such terrible Chinese cuisine, but this is a topic for another post, possibly one about the availability of quality international spices and produce, the fickle Japanese palette and, of course, racism. Back to the post though, filled with tofu power I set out for a detailed examination of Den Den Town and, hopefully, a cheap Nintendo DS. Alas, Den Den is overflowing with used PC parts, but low on used DSs and completely devoid of some of the, ahem, illicit accessories I want to buy to go along with it. I did, however, discover that the square block of Den Den that houses the porn stores also shares space with the shops that sell yard and home improvement tools. I just know there's a sinister connection there even if I can't put my finger on it yet.

From Den Den it was time to start generally heading in the direction of Kobe, but I didn't make it five kilometers before I found the Osaka Museum of Science, a sort of slightly more technical take on SF's Exploratorium, and way way more commercial-leaning. The high point of visiting wasn't actually the museum part (well, they did have abacus calculators on display...WTF?!), but the tormenting of the rent-a-cops. Call me a jackass, but when the power goes to their heads and rent-a-cops start acting like they have the full authority of a real cop, not to mention paying extra-special attention to the "dangerous" foriegner, it's time to knock them down a peg, so I committed a small infraction and made one chase me around the museum grounds before riding off.

And then I made a big mistake.

I despised Route 2 coming into Osaka and was hoping for a change, or at least a shorter road home, and decided on the parallel route 43 just south. I think I realized my mistake shortly after coming across the big-box Nafco next to the forest of soulless apartment tower blocks next to the petrochemical plant. What a hellhole, not to mention a perfect example of Japan's bizarre, twisted zoning ordinances. This country seriously needs a responsible urban planner to come in and start moving crap around before all the kids grow up to be mutant 5-armed brain eaters...I mean more so than they already are. How exactly are healthy human beings expected to grow up in a place like this? Somewhere in Amagasaki I peeled off of the never ending highway of semi diesel smoke and pulled into a sad little supermarket for something sweet to take my mind off the nightmare I'd subjected myself to and for a little strategy session. Route 43 is technically faster than 2, sure, and heading north to find the other road to Kobe would take a bit of time and backtrack me a little, so instead I resolved to sprint the 15km to the finish until my muscles turned to slag in my legs and just let the ferry's onsen plus beer handle the aftermath.

From there it took me less than an hour to reach the bridge to Rokko Island and the ferry port. Along the way I was able to see Kobe University, which, quite frankly, sucked and resembled an overgrown high school. Oita U was the same deal, but you expect it coming from our podunk little burg. Places of learning, especially the higher ones, must stimulate and inspire as well as offer a roof over students' heads! Anyways, with an hour to kill I remembered a Starbucks near (I think) Setsunomiya Station and enjoyed a victory iced coffee. Sipping a cool drink, out of the columns of smog and surrounded by perhaps fifty gorgeous coffee house maidens (certainly none of who were interested in a sweaty, bike jersey-wearing nutter like me) life was once again good.

Whatever elusive feeling I was seeking on this trip at the outset...I can't by any stretch say I found it. I don't think it wants to be found. It wants to stay in the Summer of six-years ago and I'm going to allow it to rest. Though I've only spent a cumulative total of four days in Osaka I can say with complete conviction that I'm officially finished with the city. Unless really really compelling evidence is brought to bear stating the contrary I'm stumped to find what it can offer me anymore. Kobe on the other hand, I think I'll be visiting her again. Easy to navigate, easy on the eyes and Mother Nature's already tried her best to destroy it, so we have that conveniently out of the way.

--Matt