Hello everyone and welcome to Part 2 of The Unabridged Adventures in Flea Marketing: Japan Edition!  How were your holidays?  Is your 2019 off to a fantastic start?

Well look at that, I just dated this installment by referencing the current year.  Oh well.

When we last left off, Frank and I had arrived in Nagoya, spending our first night inside our own personal incubators.  After an early start, we gathered our things and set out for the day.  So with that, let’s get this show back on the road!

Chapter 5:  Japanese Sad Greg

Who is Sad Greg and why is he so sad?

To describe Greg to an individual who has not had the pleasure of experiencing Greg is a bit of a hefty task.  We were quick to dub him “Sad Greg,” as our first experience at his store set the tone for the rest of our interactions with him.  I’m not sure who it was who officially gave him the name, but it was a perfect fit for the man who looked like he didn’t want to be there. 

Greg is a mild man with an amazing video game store in Florida who doesn’t seem to give a shit.  Where most stores will ask “Cash or credit,” Greg will whip out Jacksons before you have the chance to utter “Bonk’s Adventure.”  He’ll take anything and everything, just so long as he has room in his store and what you’re offering isn’t older than NES.  Greg is something of an enigma; we have seen him put items we’ve traded to him up for sale with a price sticker below the cash amount he gave us.  He’s got several little quirks and mannerisms that you’d have to see for yourself to fully understand and appreciate.  Sad Greg moves in mysterious ways, and we love him for it.

Where does he tie into this trip?  He doesn’t. But hang tight, it’ll all make sense soon.

As you know from Adventures in Flea Marketing Vol. I, I ran across a Super Famicom in late 2014.  Ever since, I’ve been looking for opportunities to expand my ever-lacking import collection.  Frank, of course, had amassed quite the foreign gaming stash himself, even before he relocated to Okinawa (Oh yeah, did I mention he’d been living in Japan since 2016? I honestly can’t remember). Regardless, his desire to make his collection even denser is never satiated, so from the moment we planned this trip, we elected video game hunting as our primary objective.

Our first stop was a local franchise called Super Potato. This place was, indeed, a dud of a spud.  Their stock was definitely interesting, but their prices were unsavory.  Next, we found another store, which was charming and had decent prices.  It was there that I found a Super Famicom exclusive I had wanted for quite some time: Mario and Wario.  It’s not an amazing game, but it is both a Mario and a Wario title we never saw in this country that makes use of the SNES mouse.  So at 500 yen (about $5), I was a happy camper…despite running across the game several times for slightly less – even one that was boxed.  Oh well, it was a cute store and still a good price.

Our final stop in that day’s hunt was a small electronics shop.  This place had a wide assortment ranging from video games to clocks, to DVDs.  Not to mention plenty of pornography out in plain sight.  

Our ears were greeted by an awesome 80s tune, which Frank identified as a little gem from the Footloose soundtrack – a sure sign we were in good company (though the titular song can suck a nut).  As we looked through his abundant supply of old video games, I came across Rockman X2 and X3 for 1700 and 2000 yen respectively (approximately $17 and $20 USD).  Not only is that way below what you’d pay for Mega Man X2 and X3, but these were low even for the Super Famicom versions.  I also spotted a copy of Super Bonk (released in the states, but averages about $50) and Super Bonk 2 (another Japanese exclusive that I had on my list) for 700 yen each.  Again, these were cheaper than I had seen elsewhere.  

I was on the fence about the Rockman games, but Frank convinced me I’d be a fool to pass them up.  So I brought all four cartridges over to the long-haired dude with glasses standing behind the counter.  He looked like a cool guy.  I figured I might be able to work a deal.  

Against Frank’s warning that haggling was not customary in Japan, I used him as a translator to see if the man would take an even 4500 for the four games.  He turned it down but came back at me with 4800 yen.  I was very impressed that he willingly negotiated, so I accepted with a bow.  I happily handed over my yen and he bagged the games for me.  I stuck the carts in my little drawstring bag and asked Frank to tell him his music was awesome.  Frank had to look up the phrase as he didn’t know exactly how to communicate such a sentiment.  When he finally had the compliment translated, the man was quick to defend the musical choice by saying he was just testing out the CD.  What a character.

We liked his music.  We liked his style.  We liked the fact that he negotiated with us.  He had a certain je ne sais quoi.  A certain, Greg-like quality about him.  He was our Japanese Sad Greg.

Chapter 6: Nagoya Castle

The rest of our day in Nagoya was spent enjoying the sights.  We had rented bikes as our means of transport around the city, and it was an absolute blast.

When Frank initially told me we’d be biking through Japan, I hadn’t given it much thought.  It had been many years since I rode a bicycle, and I was never the most versatile cyclist.  Frank was also a tad rusty.  Nevertheless, I figured it’d be fine.

In the beginning we both struggled.  My seat was too high and I found it somewhat difficult to keep the front wheel straight and make tight turns.    

There were at least a handful of close calls.  Both of us came within inches of colliding head-on with other cyclists, pedestrians, and in general, had a tough time negotiating the crowds.  At one point, Frank lost balance and reflexively tried to steady himself by putting his hand on a wall, which nearly flung him off his bike – a move I myself would later emulate.  I accidentally kicked a local while dismounting.  A small child bolted directly toward my front wheel like a squirrel on a suicide mission, calling for quick reflexes to narrowly avoid collision.  Amazingly, with all these close calls, the only time either of us fell off was when I tried to dismount but failed to lift my leg high enough to clear the seat.  I tripped over my bike and banged my knee.  Thank god I was wearing jeans.

But the air was cool and spirits were high as we grew accustomed to cycling through the city – something I was always too afraid to do before.  And as the afternoon grew long, we biked our way to Nagoya Castle.

We approached what looked like an old Japanese village.  It was quite picturesque.  We purchased tickets and made our way through the gate, whereupon we encountered beautiful gardens and edifices.  The castle had been destroyed by the U.S. in a series of firebombs during WWII, but the structure was rebuilt with an interior that was designed to replicate the many rooms of this grand palace.  The golden walls were resplendent and the decoration was sparse but elegant.  Like most establishments, we were expected to remove our shoes, leaving us to enjoy the guided tour in our socks.

We made our way through the castle, noting its many wonders and examining several models of what the palace and its surrounding village looked like hundreds of years ago.  We saw the golden dolphin-fish statues, some that were originals from the castle’s conception.  And when we arrived at the top floor, we got to experience a breathtaking view of Nagoya.  It was quite the experience!

The afternoon was transitioning to evening, so we biked our way back to the city to get dinner. 

One of my goals during this trip was to sample as much of the culinary variety the country had to offer.  Frank, on the other hand, being the very embodiment of convenience and efficiency, was constantly seeking the same two categories of food: curry and ramen.  I obliged him on a couple occasions.  The first day was one of those occasions.

For lunch, we had eaten at a little curry joint where I got this beef and cheese curry (you’d be just as surprised as I was to learn how many dishes integrate cheese over there).  It was phenomenal.  For dinner, we went to one of Frank’s ramen places.  I ordered ramen with some type of meat (probably pork) and a side of gyoza.  It was pretty good.  Nothing to write home about.  I’m sure Frank enjoyed it quite a bit.  

And with that, we rode home to our hostile- I mean hostel.  It was probably around 10, and I was very tired from the previous 30+ hour day with only a meager four hours of restorative rest the night before.  But guess what?

Chapter 7:  No Rest For the Sleep Deprived

So I went to sleep around, I dunno, 10 or 11 PM.  You wanna take a guess at what time I woke up?  Come on, guess.  Seriously.  Cover the following paragraphs with your hand and throw a time at me. 

Well at this point I’ve already built it up to where it probably won’t be a surprise anymore.  In fact, the hype will likely lead to your disappointment when the answer is revealed.

With that said,

I woke up around 1 AM.  And you know what?  I couldn’t get back to sleep.

After a good 20-minute attempt to catch the last ferry to slumberland failed, I accepted my fate and did some back exercises in my tiny hotbox.  I then began reading Ready Player One, which had me hooked from page 1 (waaaaaaaay better than the movie, by the way).  The morning passed more easily than I anticipated, and so around 3 or 4 I started getting ready.  I packed my things and headed downstairs to the common area to read and wait for Frank.  Fortunately, he did not sleep in, and around 6 or 7 he was downstairs ready to check out.  We bid the hostel farewell (It was a very cute and charming place, despite the warm temperatures and uncomfortable beds) and made our way to the train station for our next destination.

What? Part 2 can’t be over already!

Well it is, sadly.  But do not fret!  I will do my very best to not drag my feet in preparing Part 3 for all you fine readers.  Until then, keep on Gaming Tasty, my sizzling bacony readers!