Now before you assume I knew exactly where we were in Japan at any given time, I’ve only just googled the name of this place, okay? I’m only learning all this now. I had to go through seven million photos just to look for clues as to what the place was called.

Teramachi-dori Street.

Feel free to correct me if I’m wrong.

And, unknowingly, we could’ve strolled into Nishiki Market too at some point. I mean, we were just aimlessly walking around and one laneway led to another and then another until we came upon skewered octopuses and other interesting-looking delicacies only locals could possibly know as I had zero idea what they were and it didn’t help that I couldn’t read Japanese either.

But it was pretty cool to have a look around. It was one of those moments where I did not only feel like a tourist, I felt like a complete foreigner. A disorientating, but exciting experience nonetheless.

We had lunch at one of the restaurants where the menu was printed in English. I ordered the Special Tempura Hirano Set that came with a pair of perfectly fried tempura whose crispy batter was as delicate as the rolled omelet on the side, cooked by the elderly man at the front of the shop whose apparent expertise had people taking photos and videos of him in action, juggling between five pans and each omelet coming out as nice and fluffy as the last one.

I gotta say he was a good marketing strategy to lure customers in. Nearby, a tray of Japanese omelet egg sandwich sat. The kids tried them while the rest of us got settled at our table.

These pictures of Aeva looking after Raven making my heart melt.

Save for several rubber stamps that I thought I could use for journaling, I didn’t really buy anything at the market. Not even at the op shop that I found while waiting for the rest of the group to finish whatever it was they were doing.

*Raven at 7 years old