"It's not as crowded as I originally thought it would be," I thought to myself as I stepped through the famous "Doutonbori Street" sign, and unto the cobbled dimly lit street one cold Thursday evening in April. It was half past ten. Some shops were already closed. Their roller shutters lowered down, but their dazzling neon lights shone persistently, inviting late night tourists like us to draw close and admire their impressive signs. A bicycle is casually parked in the middle of the street, leaning on a street light post. No evidence of its owner around, and yet no one is giving it a second look. A few steps within the district, a few more unattended bikes lined a railing. Borgy and I went further down the street, intent on taking in as much of the place as we can.
![]() |
| Dotonbori Street |
