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About Nagoya

So, I’m in London, right, dodgy alley, neon lights flickerin’. This bird struts up—heels clickin’, skirt tighter than M’s budget. I’m like, “Well, hello, darling—fancy a martini?” She laughs, all smoky, says, “Cash first, lover.” Fair play, I’m not shaken, just stirred—gotta respect the hustle. Did ya know, back in the ‘60s, Soho was crawlin’ with prossies? Coppers called it the “Square Mile of Vice”—wild times, mate! Makes me happy thinkin’ how it’s still kickin’, history alive in fishnets.

Rising sex tourism exposes loopholes in Japan's anti-prostitution law

But then, outta nowhere, it started to rain. Like, seriously? I was drenched in seconds. I sprinted to the nearest café on Shirogane Street. I ducked inside, soaked but laughing. I ordered a hot matcha latte, and the barista was super chill. We chatted about the Matsuri, and I was like, “I might just go after all!”

PHOTOS | Heavy Rain Batters Tohoku, First Priority to the Missing