Thursday, October 12. No photos. Confirmed once again that fresh Japanese bread is my favorite. Thick slices and incredibly soft.

Just meandered around the local train station’s shopping area. Many things remain the same (Mister Donut is still here in a prime location) and some things are different. Very few things really. Japan isn’t into change. The glazed pastries still look too good to be real, while the fake food displays don’t look fake.

Had my traditional lunch in Japan: Bolognese spaghetti in a little restaurant that was clearly a hangout for the local university. I exceeded the average age by 50 years. It was exhausting to watch the cook remain in constant motion for an hour. Thanks partly to a favorable exchange rate, the meal cost only $12. Clearly, this is NOT Norway.

Dinner was just gyoza. Only my mom-in-law can make it so good. Bottled Sapporo beer, which Yoriko had to search for. All the craft beers have pushed out the traditional brands.