Chapter 3 ( Episode 1) : Meet the Niagara of the East
(29 November 2024) — Day 3
The morning began with the gentle smell of dashi drifting out from a small shokudō near the station, where the prices were low, the portions generous, and the regulars looked mildly surprised to see a foreigner.
I stopped for breakfast.
“Kitsune soba” 🍜 was the dish I chose—again, by drawing lots.
This trip had begun randomly, so it felt only fair that my meals followed the same philosophy. Planning food would have been suspiciously organized, and I didn’t want to confuse Japan into thinking I was that kind of traveler.
There was no waitress this time. Instead, an automatic ticket machine stood by the entrance, blinking patiently like it had seen many confused foreigners before me. I studied the buttons, pressed one that looked friendly enough, and received a small paper ticket—proof that destiny, or at least carbohydrates, had been decided.
I handed the ticket to the chef, who accepted it with the calm authority of someone who trusted machines more than people.
Drinking water was self-service, so I poured myself a glass and took a seat at the counter by the window—the kind of seat reserved for solo diners, thinkers, and people watching Japan pass by while waiting for noodles.
As I sat there, I realized the system was perfect:
no small talk, no awkward ordering, just you, your fate, and a bowl of soba on the way.
Random, efficient, and quietly reassuring—
very much like Japan.
And, unfortunately, very much like me.
As the silent creeping in— my mind was thinking about how “kitsune story” started.
kitsune means “fox,” and that foxes, according to old stories, have an unshakable fondness for aburaage—sweet fried tofu floating politely on top of the broth.
It felt oddly comforting to start the day knowing my breakfast had mythological approval.
The soup was sweet, salty, and gloriously hot—exactly what a traveler’s heart (and half-frozen fingers) needed on a cold Gunma morning.
As I ate, I couldn’t help smiling at the thought that somewhere in the forest, a disappointed fox might be wondering where its tofu had gone.
Do you have a favorite dish that you love a story about them — comment and tell me !