Actually, It's a Gourmet Trip
Truth be told, it was a total foodie adventure. The moment we got out of the taxi and stepped into the hotel lobby, we rushed straight to check-in. Handing over my passport to the staff, grabbing the key—it all happened in a flash under Im Nana's lead.
Man, having someone fluent in Japanese makes this so easy. How did I ever think I'd rely on just a translation app?
We dumped our bags in the assigned room without even sitting on the bed. Im Nana's eyes sparkled as she looked at me.
"Areum! Let's head out already!"
Huh? This is a pretty fancy hotel—shouldn't we at least check out the room? But with those big, shiny eyes of hers, there was no refusing. I'd be leaning on her the whole trip anyway; might as well indulge her on this.
"...Sure. I'm starving anyway."
We'd definitely eaten breakfast at the airport restaurant before takeoff, but the flight must've worked up an appetite already. The real Fukuoka adventure kicks off with food, right?
We left the hotel and started strolling down Hakata's streets. Delicious smells wafted by—rich ramen broth, something nutty roasting, even the smoky scent of charcoal grills.
"Whoa... everything looks so tasty! What do we do?"
I was hit with decision paralysis too... so many options.
That's when a clean-looking udon chain caught my eye. I vaguely remembered hearing Fukuoka was the birthplace of udon.
"Nana, how about udon?"
"Udon? Sounds good!"
...Does she hate any food?
We headed right in without hesitation. At the kiosk, there were even Korean buttons—proof of all the Korean tourists around.
I ordered a set with udon and tempura; Nana got udon and tempura separately.
Soon, steaming udon and crispy-looking tempura rice bowls arrived.
"Let's dig in!"
Nana was already chopsticks at the ready, battle mode engaged. I picked up mine and slurped a bite of udon.
Slurp.
"...!"
My eyes shot open. I wasn't even a huge udon fan... back home, it always felt like chewy clumps of flour. But this...
The noodles were silky smooth against my lips, then chewy and springy when I bit down, bouncing back against my teeth. Like a bizarre, addictive halfway point between rice cake and noodles. Paired with the deep, clean broth—it was pure bliss.
"Whoa, Nana... this is seriously good. The noodles are on another level."
I turned, awestruck. But her udon bowl was already empty.
"Huh? What'd you say?"
She was chomping away on her tempura now.
...Excuse me? It's been like five minutes?
"...Nothing. Enjoy."
Where does she put it all?
I subtly slid my tempura bowl her way.
"Have some of mine too. I'm full on udon."
"For real? Yay! Thanks, Areum!"
She snatched it up with a beaming smile, no second thoughts. How does she eat like that and stay so slim? The mysteries of the human body...
After finishing, we stepped outside—bellies full, weather perfect. Korea was chilly today, but here it was over 10°C (50°F). I'd ditched my jacket for just a hoodie on the way out, and it felt nice and warm.
Walking under the sunny skies sparked some sightseeing vibes.
"Bellies full—wanna wander a bit?"
"Yeah! Where to?"
"We can save downtown for after camping... how about the sea? There's a viewpoint by the port and a mall nearby."
We hopped in a taxi toward the harbor. Soon, a striking red steel tower and a small mall next to it came into view.
Viewpoint first. The elevator whisked us up, revealing a panoramic Hakata Port—blue seas, passing ships, distant cityscape.
"Wow... it's gorgeous."
Nana plastered herself to the window, snapping away. I stood beside her, breathing deep.
Yeah, this is the healing stuff.
All the embarrassment and dark history from Korea faded, if only for a moment.
"Areum! Can I post this on SNS?"
"Go for it. I should too."
We snapped pics of each other, gazed at the sea in a daze—pure relaxation.
Down to the mall next door. Less a massive department store, more a cozy spot with local specialties, seafood market, and eateries.
"Areum, check this! This dolphin plush looks just like you!"
"...Where? The one with the potbelly?"
"Nooo~ the sparkly eyes!"
Ugh, kinda cringey. Did Nana have a poet's soul?
We browsed souvenirs—cute dolphin plushies and keychains.
Then, a super familiar sound from beside us.
Gulp.
...No way?
Nana was glued to a restaurant window, staring at conveyor-belt sushi plates whizzing by on the rail.
"......"
We just had udon and two tempura bowls...
'Conveyor sushi: 80 plates' flashed through my mind. She wasn't planning to recreate that legend here, was she?
I tried ignoring it, but her pleading eyes—exactly like Maximus hearing snack bag crinkles.
"...Wanna grab a little?"
It's conveyor sushi... a few plates won't hurt.
"Really?! Yeah! Let's go! I love sushi!"
No hesitation—she grabbed my hand and dragged me in.
Are we here to sightsee or gorge?
Whatever. Sushi's a must in Japan.
We sat, and Nana's eyes sharpened, scanning the rail like a hawk. Her hands snatched plates nonstop.
"Mmm~! So good! Super fresh!"
Two plates gone in seconds.
Hmm... that good? My appetite kicked in. I eyed the belt and snagged one.
"That's mackerel! Fukuoka's famous for it!" Nana explained helpfully.
Mackerel sashimi. I'd had it a few times, but on sushi rice? Didn't recognize it. Darker color too.
The glistening fish atop rice, sprinkled with sesame and chives. I popped one in.
Explosion of umami, rich fish flavor. Fermented? A hint of sesame oil?
"Whoa... this is amazing. Try one."
I placed the other piece on her plate. She devoured it and thumbs-upped.
"So good! Grab more if it comes around!"
Her happy grin made coming in worth it.
Since we're here, why not splurge? I scanned—no fancy cuts I knew.
"Can't we order specials at conveyor places? I wanna try otoro."
"Totally!"
Nana raised her hand confidently and called out fluently.
"Excuse me! Two otoro, please!"
Wow, human translator on point.
A cheery "Coming right up!" echoed from the kitchen. Traveling with talent is bliss.
Soon, the chef handed over two plates himself. Vibrant red tuna belly, fat blooming like snowflakes. The translucent oil gleamed, making my mouth water.
"Let's eat."
We both bit in.
"Whoa..."
No chewing needed—it melted at body heat. Rich oil and nuttiness filled my mouth.
"Insane... it's literally melting."
"Right? Local's different!"
Two pretty young women squealing in delight drew stares. Even the chef grinned warmly.
Ahem... overdid it? But it was that good. One more?
Ududon had me stuffed, though. As I debated stopping, the chef slid a plate our way.
"On the house! You enjoyed it so much."
(Nana translated, but I got the gist.)
Thin, translucent fish with shiny silver skin—pretty.
"Thank you! Arigato gozaimasu!"
We took it. What fish was this?
"Nana, any idea?"
She tilted her head. "Nope, first time."
Chef chimed in: "Sayori!"
Sayori? I whipped out my phone for a search.
> Sayori = Halfbeak
Ah, halfbeak. Heard of it, never as sashimi. Curiosity won—I tried a piece.
Crunch.
Unique texture: firm yet chewy. Mild, nutty flavor bloomed with each chew, cleansing the otoro's richness.
Stuffed or not, I polished off a few more plates starting with that halfbeak sushi.
Nana? Her stack of empties towered like 20+ plates. Fresh off udon and tempura? Unreal.
"Ahh... that hit the spot."
Paying up, I noticed her expression—eyes saying 'I could eat more...'
Instinctual dread. She'd lap every eatery in the mall at this rate. Change topics!
"Nana! Let's walk off the food somewhere else?"
"Huh? Where?"
"Japan's aquariums are famous. Big one nearby."
"Aquarium?!"
Her eyes lit up. Nailed it.
"Yes! Let's go! Fish time!"
True yes-girl—she bolted out.
Hey?
"Nana, you know where it is?"
"Uh..."
She spun 90 degrees toward the taxi stand. Pure comedy—I burst out laughing.
Yeah, this is travel magic.
About 10 minutes later, we arrived at the aquarium. Way bigger than expected—like a whole building dedicated to it.
Sushi straight to fish-gazing... feels off, right? Or is sushi after cute fish weirder? Hmm, whatever.
The entrance sign had a dolphin drawing. While Nana bought tickets, I snapped a pic and translated it.
> Dolphin Show
Oh, dolphin show? Timing's perfect—gotta see this.
One lesson learned: Front row at a dolphin show... absolutely forbidden.