By 4pm, the shops reopen for business. The area around my hotel goes from a quiet sunny ghost town to a bustling lively mini cosmopolitan city. In Arabic, the word souq means market. Souq Waqif means standing market. It doesn’t look like much from outside, but the moment I walk in, I’m transported into a maze-like metropolis with shops selling everything. And I really do mean EVERYTHING.
The Tokyo – Doha leg of the journey is an overnight flight. How fun? I don’t know anyone who likes long haul overnight flights. And although I love love love travelling; flying is the bane of my existence. I bloody hate it. Thankfully – I’m the kind of person that can sleep anywhere. And although I manage to get some sleep on the plane, it wasn’t the restful kind. I was tossing and turning and shifting about the whole time. I felt a little sorry for the guy sitting next to me.
When I found out that I was coming back to the Kansai area for a business trip, I crinkled and raised my eyebrows at the same time. It wasn’t on my plans. But when life is ready to bring you full circle, it will do it with a big smile on its face.
I got a seat at the counter and boy was I tickled by the sight of all those okonomiyaki neatly assembled. One chef was cutting the cabbage. Another was preparing the okonomiyaki. Another was making the negiyaki: made with scallions instead of cabbage. And another was expertly tossing noodles to make yakisoba. If you love cooking like I do – open kitchens like this one are a HUGE treat.
Like the Fool in the tarot deck, I came to Japan with a certain naivety, innocence and sense of adventure. My eyes were filled with wanderlust. I had left most of my possessions behind and only brought the bare necessities with me. It was scary – letting go of everything that I knew. I was afraid of the unknown. What if it was far worse than what I had?