There is nothing to do in this place. In the town, I mean.

And when I say ‘nothing’, it means ‘ABSOLUTELY nothing’. Here beautiful Japan is turned not even into Venice (which is also beautiful), but into Venice hotel in Vegas. As soon as the stores are open, a crowd of kimono-wearing people gather along the channel; boat-men put moron-tourists™ into the boats, respectively, throw on them what they call “ancient Japanese hats” and float down the channel in a straight line from one gateway to another.

There are some sort of rickshaws in the “ancient style”, carriages/carts, musicians and other fucking whoredom™ everywhere.

The crowd partly consists of old men/women with rolexes/pearls, who at their last gasp decided to get cultural in the Land of the Rising Sun, to join in, so to speak.

Overall, it’s an infernal trash™.

But if you happen to be there, you need to have something to eat, don’t you?

And there’s this ryokan. It’s absolutely useless on its own. $1000+ per day for hell knows what. Maybe it’s because of the address: the local variant of “Red Square 1”, written right there at the channel in the thick of it – with all bells and whistles.

But there is a nuance.

As it should be, they serve kaiseki for dinner there, in the ryokan – officially, they’ve got 7 courses, but each one consists of a heap of micro-event (take a look at the menu).

They serve it for only 15 000 Yen (about $135). Most importantly, it’s all tasty from beginning to end and, what is more, is completely comprehensible for ordinary people.

Not everyone will dare to eat traditional Japanese kaiseki because, despite all the beauty of the event, one can easily hit upon something like a “fish feet compote” or “roast fishbones”™, for which my mother has been reproaching me for a whole year already.

It’s different in here.

Rather everything’s beautiful and strictly seasonal. No one will serve you green soup in autumn or an orange one in spring, heaven forbid. Everything is also clear and tasty in here. Apparently, the level of authenticity is abruptly tightened for baka gaijins.

We come in.

We wander through sort of alleys: to the left, then to the right, then past a “taxidermy of a pine tree”, then through another nano-hallway leading to the sauna. The restaurant is in the hall that has a glass wall with a view to the inner court with a garden – this is beautiful.

We take a seat.

I have to admit that the only thing that justifies the ryokan’s prices is the level of service – the highest one. Even if they don’t know who you are, or if they’ve known you’re here just for three minutes, or if they understand you’ll never come back, there’ll be a feeling that shōgun has arrived and that shōgun is you.

All the food is in the pictures. Again, it’s all tasty: sashimi is of incredible quality, you won’t be able to find something like that even in conventional sushi shops at Tsukiji but only in the secret spots. There’s wagyu, sea bass, crab – a little bit of everything, just to try, with additives and sauces.

This is a truly great night.

Well, afterwards you can go out to the empty channel. The buses took the daytime crowd away to the suburbs. The luxury old ladies are fast asleep in their over luxury hotels. And you can breathe and watch the town with no people, and it will be beautiful and true.

Do enjoy.