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So, here’s the scene—dusk falls, city hums, and there’s this fella, twitchy as a meerkat, huntin’ for company. Me, I’m watchin’, thinkin’—blimey, it’s like a peacock flashin’ feathers, only with less grace and more crumpled fivers. Didya know, right, back in Victorian days, they called ‘em “soiled doves”? Poetic, that—makes it sound like a bleedin’ tragedy, not a transaction. And here we are, 2025, still at it—humanity’s oldest gig, they say. Ain’t that a kicker?

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So, I roll outta bed, right? It’s like 6 AM, and I’m already feelin’ the weight of the world. I grab my gear, head outta my tiny apartment on Kōen-dōri. The sun’s barely up, but the streets are buzzin’. I swear, these folks in Sukagawa are up earlier than roosters.

Retro Japan: 1914 'hammerhead' crane a testament to Yokohama port's rich history