There’s only one word to describe Harajuku: suffocating.

Walking the streets of Harajuku and Shibuya, I felt like I had temporarily taken leave of Japan. It was actually too cosmopolitan for my tastes. Worse yet, the place was crawling with foreigners - and by foreigners, I mean the loud, annoying, working holiday sort, crawling from one bar to the next, in search of the most earthly of pleasures.

It’s not my scene, really. I feel far more comfortable wandering about my suburban neighborhood, even if I do stick out like a sore thumb. And I’m enough of a geek that I’d rather spend an evening in Akihabara than Shibuya or, worse yet, Roppongi. Perhaps I’m just getting old?

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