I’ve got an hour to kill before boarding on my flight starts, before I am winging my way home, and I’m killing a beer along with the time. Getting rid of coins I can’t exchange is my excuse.
So when you read this I will be comfortably back at home, able to sleep in my own bed and finally certain for the first time in days if the food I am about to be served contains seafood, which I abhor.
I’m generally a good traveller. I’ve done a lot of it. Food is my problem. I’ve always disliked seafood. I’ll pass on anything that lives or grows in water. When I lived in Korea, at a time when my tastes had matured to include a lot of vegetables I wouldn’t eat as a child, I made an effort to try everything. I ate everything from cod to grilled silkworms. This experience verified that even with my tastebuds deadened with alcohol, I didn’t like seafood. I didn’t like the taste, I didn’t like the texture, I didn’t like the smell.
Being back in Korea is no problem. I lived there long enough in the past to know exactly what I can and cannot eat. Without even knowing the language – and I do know enough Korean to know the foods – I’d be able to tell by sight for most dishes.
Not so for Japan. Every time I took a chance and ordered by sight, I got seafood. Now, granted, that was only twice, but frankly that was enough for me. I am now very suspicious of Japanese food. Thankfully, there were enough restaurants with English in the menu (though these were substantially fewer than what I was used to from Korea) or a server with enough English to say: “No fish. Pork.”
For those of you out there also thinking about visiting, if you hate fish, you need to be cautious. If you eat everything, I think venturing out and taking a chance with your meals would be hella fun.