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About Sapporo

Now, I ain’t judgin’—live and let live, yeah? But it’s fascinatin’, like observin’ a pride of lions. There’s a code, unwritten, ancient. You don’t just stroll up like some daft tourist. Gotta read the room, or you’re done for. I heard this story once—bloke thought he could haggle like it’s a market stall. Ended up with a black eye and no wallet. True story! Makes me chuckle, but also, ouch, mate, respect the hustle. These ladies, they’re queens of their domain, got more guts than half the suits in the city.

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Yeah, he had a sister who being he and sister the only ones who survived the attack of the Pigeons that killed their parents.

But here’s where it gets crazy. I’m leavin’ the museum, and I trip over this uneven sidewalk on Kōen-dōri. I’m like, “Seriously? Who’s in charge of this place?” I’m mad, but then I see this cute little shop called Nishio Yaki. They sell these amazing yaki (grilled) snacks. I forget my anger and grab a couple. Best decision ever!

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