We’re sitting on the floor of an old soy sauce factory’s warehouse, eating a meal we warmed up in the microwave.
This nearly two-hundred-year-old building is located in Japan’s first capital, Nara.
Today, this meticulously restored building operates as the Naramachi Hostel in the neighborhood of the same name.
This is where we’ll lay our heads on the pillow for a week.
On our once again 3-month journey in this adorable country, we’ve come back to visit Nara, my home in Japan.
Of all the wonderful places in Japan, Nara is dearest to me.
This story contains new friends, Japanese food, and drinks in the best bar in Nara, but first,
let’s take a little journey back in time.
May 2007 – First time in Nara, Japan
I’m walking through the deserted streets of Nara at dusk. It’s completely silent.
It’s easy to imagine what the city must have been like back when its old houses were built.
I almost tiptoe quietly toward the center.
Suddenly, a deer stands before me. I stop and stare at it in disbelief.
The deer stares back at me.
I whisper softly, “Hello, deer.”
I take careful steps toward the deer.
The deer steps toward me.
We pass each other.
Confused, I turn to look back.
The deer looks back at me.
I’m already in love with Nara.
I continue on and find a bit of life in the city.
Music drifts down from the second floor of a building.
I climb up and join the regulars of a small bar.
October 2015 – Living alone in Nara, Japan
I’ve returned to Japan in September to work on my book project.
I’m starting my journey in the southernmost part of Japan, the Okinawa Islands.
A month later, I return to Nara, after eight and a half years.
Though I’ve visited Japan in between, I haven’t been back to my beloved Nara.
I rent an apartment and get the chance to spend a bit more time in the city.
I walk the city streets back and forth, taking in the atmosphere of the shadowy alleys and the tar-scented wooden houses.
Step by step, this old city becomes more and more my home. Nara, my home in Japan.
November 2017 – together in Nara, Japan
Ismo and I already live as nomads, and when we arrive together in Nara, we intend to rent my old home again. It’s not available though, so we end up at the Naramachi hostel, which turns out to be probably the coolest hostel I’ve ever stayed at.
There are also private rooms here, as well as a great restaurant where we enjoyed dinner on our tenth anniversary.
Before that, however, we stick to the budget and eat microwave dinners in the common areas of the hostel.
From misunderstandings to friends
It is freezing cold in the old house, but there is a gas heater in the common living area.
Less surprisingly, all the guests sit here in the evening after returning from the city, before crawling under their electric blankets to sleep.
At the other end of the room, a Western-looking man in his thirties sits alone.
He turns out to be British Stefan.
As an inside joke, he becomes “our son Stefan”, but at first he didn’t think to talk to us at all.
We start chatting with the Japanese group at the next table. When Stefan hears that we are not Yankee tourists, but Finns with a reasonable knowledge of the Japanese culture, this later son of ours who lives in Nagoya joins us.
…and repeat
The Japanese offer us brie and white wine. After they leave, we stay behind to chat with Stefan.
Soon, two Japanese men arrive. The younger of them has bleached hair and a slightly rough appearance for a Japanese man.
I ran into the same guy earlier in the morning when he booked the only women’s restroom for a long time, while I waited in the freezing cold hallway for my turn.
I bit my tongue, not wanting to say anything rude, since that would have been really inappropriate in Japan.
On the other hand, his behavior was also a bit out of line, especially considering that, in Japan, people usually pay great attention to others.
When we meet again, I try not to glare at him too badly, and apparently, I succeed quite well. He cheerfully asks what we think of the hostel.
When we praise the beautiful traditional building to the skies, Makoto smiles and says, “It’s nice to hear; this man here owns the place.”
The man sitting next to him, Koichi, is the Tokyo-based owner of the hostel, who has come to check on his property with his head chef, Makoto.
Soon, we decide to pop over to the store to buy a bottle of wine. The store isn’t far, but Koichi insists on driving us there.
When we return, the conversation flows well into the early hours, and Koichi asks if we’d be interested in going out for a meal together tomorrow. Well, of course!
A traditional Japanese dinner with new friends
The next evening, we gather in the lobby and, guided by Koichi, we walk to a restaurant that we are not already familiar with.
In this fifty-year-old restaurant, we are served by an old lady, the original owner and founder of the place.
We happily enjoy everything that is put in front of us, even though we hardly recognize everything that we eat. The most familiar dishes included, for example, octopus, which our chef friend cuts for our convenience.
Even though we are familiar with eating with chopsticks, we still don’t know how to smoothly cut everything with them ourselves, if ever.
When we are full, Koichi demands to pay the bill. We accept the offer on the condition that Stefan, Ismo and I get to offer drinks at a bar.
The boss nods in agreement.
This time he leads us across the main pedestrian street, down an alley and typically to the second floor of an apartment building.
In Japan, it is often difficult to find the best bars, because they are often located a little hidden on the upper floors of buildings.
Even this apartment building looks like any other residential or office building.
At the top of the stairs, through the door and along the corridor, we enter through the door behind which the bar is revealed.
Our jaws drop. The bar is decorated in the style of a traditional British pub down to the smallest detail.
I admire the wooden bar counter and I already had time to think that this moment calls for a quality smoky whiskey.
I quickly change my mind.
The best drinks in the world
We hear from the chef and the owner that the bartender at this Lamp Bar won the World Bartender Championship the previous year. The master himself is currently in Europe, but he has left the bar in the hands of his apprentice, who is quickly developing into a bartender worthy of his mentor.
So, we leave the responsibility to the apprentice as well and give him free rein to showcase his skills. Each of the five of us gets the most imaginative drinks, each one different.
At this point, we start to worry a little about whether we’ll be able to pay the bill—we definitely couldn’t cover it with just a few tens. Naturally, at no point did we even see a drink menu.
But, well, you only live once.
After these drinks, Makoto suggests heading back to the hostel. We all sigh in mild relief and ask for the bill. Again, Koichi covers the entire amount.
I’d say this place is worth experiencing if you’re at all interested in quality cocktails. I can’t comment on the price level, so just to be safe, bring along a thick wad of cash.
– Cash, because, somewhat unexpectedly, many restaurants and bars in Japan don’t accept card payments. (Though it is rapidly changing.)
The evening continues in Naramachi Hostel
After returning from the village, Makoto wants to show off his skills.
We pass through our labyrinthine house to the bar in a back corner.
The bartender at the place tells us he’s about to close soon.
Makoto orders the young man to his home and takes over the bar.
This time, we get those old whiskies, but also some exciting drinks, the contents of which are a mystery to us.
The conversation flows again this evening. Our boy, who’s visiting Nara for the first time, has already fallen in love with the mysteriously captivating city.
The warm-hearted Nara wins over anyone who takes the time to appreciate it.
And it continues to surprise again and again.
Nara, my home in Japan.
We sit quietly, wondering with a touch of sadness if we’ll ever meet again.
Certainly Nara, but what about all of us new friends?
P.S. Do you want to know how Stefan became our son? That happened in Nagoya, read here!